38
Logan
It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.
I repeat the words like a prayer, sucking air in and out of my nose.
It’s my fault, all my fault.
I’m back to being fifteen years old, imagining myself on my knees before the girl I’m hopelessly in love with, blaming myself for everything she’s done wrong.
My fault.
I should have kept a better watch on her. She was miserable, she wanted freedom—my fault. I should have done a better job of making her forget her cage. I should have shown her more love. I shouldn’t have spoken about the present. Who the fuck cares about a present anyway?
She couldn’t have risked so much just to buy me a present, could she?
I lock myself in the kitchen, my heart swelling and my chest tight with pain when I take in the balloons, the cake, the painted banner. There’s a likeness of me on one side, and if I weren’t so scared right now, I would laugh. It looks terrible.
All I can hope is that the painting of Aurora is so bad it looks nothing like her. But then, why would someone have bought it? For eighty dollars, too?
I should have asked Lia if it was the price she’d requested, or if it was the price the stranger offered her. The latter would be very worrying. The latter could mean only one thing.
I almost go back to the bedroom and ask, but then I freeze, thinking of Aurora.
It doesn’t matter about the price. We’re fucked anyway. And I need to get to my daughter.
I head toward the back door, panic surging in me. Why the fuck did I let Aurora out of my sight? Where the fuck is she?
I hesitate on the doorstep, unable to make up my mind, struggling with a version of that impossible riddle: If your wife and daughter were trapped in a burning building, who would you save?
Lia’s trapped, but she’s locked in the bedroom. She’s safe, she must be safe. Meanwhile Aurora… is out somewhere in the wilderness, and if they’re hunting us…
Making a hurried, sickening decision, I leave the house and cross the lawn quickly, walking toward the forest. I’d automatically pressed Damien’s number, because in a moment like this, he’s the one I’d naturally turn to.
But of course, I can’t call him, so I go back to the home screen.
If I reached out to him, it would put him in danger, and I just can’t do that to him.
Not unless it’s a dire emergency. I need to figure shit out.
My stomach lurches when the phone vibrates in my hand, and I see him calling me.
I’m about to hear my best friend’s voice for the first time in two years, but I don’t feel any relief, because it serves as confirmation of how utterly fucked we are.
“Yeah.” My voice is tight with the effort of controlling my emotion.
“Logan.”
Fuck. So much for control. His warm voice, without a trace of the casual cruelty he directs toward everyone who isn’t me, makes me nearly bend over in pain.
“Please, Damien. Please tell me we’re not fucked.”
“It’s going to be okay. Just listen to me. Get back to the house.”
“What the fuck? How do you know where the fuck I am?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m watching the feed, and...”
“What feed?”
“Logan, it doesn’t matter,” he snaps. “Obviously there’s a feed.”
“What the fuck do you mean, obviously?”
He hisses out an impatient breath. “You think Everest would have gotten you a safe house without surveillance? I can barely trust you to tie your own shoe laces, let alone hide properly from the family. Anyway, when we heard about some mobsters in the region, a few days ago, we didn’t want to freak you out for nothing, but we did start watching religiously and... ”
“Fuck!”
“Yeah, fuck. Now shut up, and get back in the fucking house, Logan.”
I can’t.” I scan the forest for any sight of my girl. “I need to get to Aurora. She’s out in the woods with Dolores.”
“Get back to the house. We have Aurora.”
“What the fuck?” I pause, my hand stiffening around the phone. “How the hell do you have her? Who has her?”
“Everest. The minute we heard some goon of Coltello’s bought the painting—”
Fuck!
“You need to get back to the house, Logan.”
I’ve never heard him speak with such urgency. Not even when Carmelo was holding a gun to his head.
I turn around, cursing at myself when I see how far I’ve walked. I break into a sprint, still managing to gasp into the phone,” How do you know? How do you know about that? Why did no one tell me?”
“We found out just two hours ago. Carmelo called to brag about it. Everest was in Idaho and he took the first plane to you. I’ve been stuck in Astley, because we have a plan, Logan, and things are going to work out.
We’re gonna come out on top, but we need to stick together, like we always have.
They know where she is, so you’d better go back to the house now, because the cameras in the front just got turned off, and I don’t know why. Get your gun.”
“Right. Right.” I’m sweating as I reach the back door. “I’ll call you after.”
I hang up, slam the door shut behind me, cursing myself for having stood there just ten minutes ago and made the wrong decision.
I grab my gun from the cupboard up high that I keep it in, remove the safety, and rush to the bedroom…
Too late.
Too fucking late.
The door is open, and Coltello is holding a gun to her head.