Page 73 of Her Courage

That had been forty minutes ago.

Forty minutes of pacing Kaleb's living room while Colby tried—and failed—to get me to sit down. Forty minutes of my mind conjuring increasingly horrific scenarios.

A two-year-old. Patrice had kidnapped a two-year-old.

"Lottie, you need to breathe." Colby's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. He stood from the couch where he'd been pretending to read, crossing to where I'd worn a path in the expensive rug. "Come here, little one."

I shook my head, unable to stop moving. "I can't. What if she hurts Keeley? What if Kaleb and Andrei—" My voice cracked. "What if something happens to them?"

Colby's hands settled on my shoulders, firm and grounding. "Nothing is going to happen to them. Andrei knows what he's doing."

"That's what scares me!" The words burst out before I could stop them. "He knows what he's doing. Because he used to do things like this. Violent things. Dangerous things."

Colby's expression softened. He guided me to the couch, pulling me down beside him. "Andrei's past doesn't define him, Lottie. He left that life behind."

"Did he?" I twisted my fingers together, picking at my cuticles. "Or did he just bury it until he needed it again?"

Before Colby could answer, headlights swept across the front windows. A car door slammed.

I was on my feet in an instant, rushing to the window. Relief flooded through me as I recognized the Audi. Kaleb emerged from the back seat, followed by Andrei.

They were okay. They were here.

But their faces⁠—

Kaleb looked devastated. Andrei's expression was carved from stone, but his eyes blazed with barely contained fury.

I didn't wait for them to come inside. I flew to the front door, wrenching it open just as Kaleb reached for the handle.

"What happened?" I demanded. "Did you find her? Is she⁠—"

"She's at the Lake Oswego house," Kaleb said, his voice rough. "Patrice called. Demanded two million dollars."

My stomach dropped. "The money you don't have anymore because you put it in the trusts."

"Exactly." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "She gave us twenty-four hours."

Twenty-four hours or what? I didn't want to know. Couldn't let myself think about it.

Andrei brushed past us, already on his phone. I caught fragments of Russian—sharp, commanding. Planning something.

"Come inside," Colby said gently, his hand settling on the small of my back. "All of you. We need to figure this out."

We moved to the living room. Andrei remained standing, pacing as he continued his rapid-fire conversation. Kaleb sank onto the couch, his head in his hands.

I'd never seen him like this. So broken. So helpless.

Without thinking, I climbed into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. He pulled me close immediately, burying his face against my shoulder.

"I should have seen this coming," he muttered against my skin. "Should have known she'd go after Keeley."

"This isn't your fault," I insisted fiercely. "Patrice is a monster. That's on her, not you."

"Sierra's terrified." His arms tightened around me. "Monica's trying to hold it together, but I can see she's barely keeping it together. And I can't—I don't know how to fix this, Lottie."

Hearing him admit that—hearing the defeat in his voice—broke something in my chest.

Andrei ended his call, turning to face us. "Mikhail has eyes on the house. Thermal imaging shows three people inside—Patrice, Rupert, and Keeley."