Chapter 81
CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
Drago
My throat tightens so hard it hurts.
“Lily,” I whisper without meaning to as I almost fall through my own front door.
No answer. The silence is deafening.
My eyes snap up. Everything inside me turns into one single, deadly point.
I step forward slowly, gun in my hand now, without even remembering drawing it. My gaze darts from the staircase to the hallway.
A low sound threatens to tear out of me, something feral and ugly, but I swallow it down.
Not yet. Not until I have her. Not until I know.
I race to the stairs. My boots hit the first step, and I take them two at a time, fast and silent, hugging the wall as I reach the landing.
Then I see him. Lev is on the floor beside the safe room doorway. Half on his side, one knee bent awkwardly, his hand pressed to his stomach, his shirt soaked red. His face is grey. Sweat beads at his hairline. His breathing is shallow, wet, wrong.
But he’s breathing. He’s still fucking breathing.
I drop to my knees beside him, keeping my weapon angled down the corridor as my other hand goes straight to his pulse.
“Finn!” I all but scream. “Get up here!”
“Lev,” I growl. “Open your eyes.”
His lashes flutter once. Nothing else.
“Lev,” I say again, sharper. “Don’t you dare die before you tell me where she is.”
His chest rises with a shuddering inhale. His mouth moves like he’s trying to swallow broken glass.
He coughs and blood stains his lip.
My jaw clenches so tight I taste it. “Stay with me,” I order, pressing hard against his wound to slow the bleeding even though I know it’s too much. I know it’s already too late. “Where’s Lily?”
His eyes finally crack open.
Barely.
But they find me.
Finn drops to his knees beside me and takes over. All I see is the blood coating my fingers, and I want to throw up.
“She…” he rasps. “Came out.”
My stomach drops.
The safe room door, open, flashes in my mind again, like a nightmare frame.
“She came out? With Maria?” I demand the words ripping out of me.
Lev’s hand twitches weakly. His fingers curl into my sleeve, gripping like he’s afraid he’ll float away if he lets go.
My ribs feel too tight, like my lungs can’t fully expand.
“Who did this? Who was with Maria?” I ask, and my voice isn’t even mine anymore. It’s something older. Something darker. Something that belongs to a man who has dragged bodies out of rivers and slept like a baby afterward.
Lev swallows, his throat bobbing painfully.
“Maria,” he whispers.
“She… is…” His voice breaks. “Preacher.”
My vision tunnels. All sound dulls. All I can hear is my own pulse and the echo of Lily’s breathing in my head like a memory I’m about to lose.
“Fuck.” Finn seethes, his grey eyes meeting mine.
Lily’s mom is the Preacher. A woman so evil is the mother of a woman so full of light.
My stomach drops. The Preacher has my girl.
“Please,” he rasps—and that word coming from him is the most devastating thing I’ve ever heard.
Lev doesn’t beg. Lev doesn’t plead. But he’s pleading now. Not for himself. For her. “Save my baby,” he whispers.
My throat tightens so hard I can’t breathe for a second. Because Lily is his baby, but she’s carrying mine, too.
And I feel every bit of his pain; the thought of someone taking them both from me is enough to make me want to throw up.
“I will,” I promise immediately. No hesitation. “I swear to you. If it’s the last thing I ever do.”
Lev shakes his head faintly as if the movement costs him everything. “No,” he whispers. “Not… like that.”
I lean closer, my eyes burning. “What do you mean?” I snap. “Lev, tell me—”
His grip finds more strength for one final second. He drags my sleeve down, forcing my attention. Forcing me to listen.
“Not like a bodyguard,” he breathes, voice ragged. “Like she’s your soul.” A cough. “Love her.”
It cracks something in my chest. The smallest fracture. The kind that spreads.
“She is my soul,” I say, the words rough and guttural. “I promise you.”
Lev exhales weakly. A ghost of something crosses his face. Approval maybe. Relief. The faintest hint of gratitude. Then his gaze sharpens suddenly, panic flashing behind his eyes.
“I’m proud of you,” he chokes out, blood bubbling again. “Boy.”
I stare at him. And my mouth twitches in something that isn’t a smile. But I can see it in Finn’s eyes instantly as I glance at him. The truth. The reality. The chances of him surviving this are low.
“You’re not leaving me,” I say, voice like stone. “Not like this.”
Lev’s eyes soften. “Don’t let my death mean nothing,” he whispers.
His hand slips from my sleeve, his fingers go slack, and my stomach drops hard.
I press my fingers to his neck again. That weak pulse is still there. Barely. But it’s there.
He’s not dead.
I drag in a breath and force my brain back into operation.
Lev needs pressure. Time. Blood. Help.
But Lily—
Lily is the only thing that matters more.
The only thing.
A slow rage rises through me, controlled at first, like a tide. “Please,” I say to Finn, my voice cracking only once before I crush it back down. “Try.”
Finn doesn’t look up, just nods, hands firm on the wound, the other already making the calls. “I’ll do what I can. You got a med kit in there?” He jerks his chin toward the safe room.
“Yes,” I bite out.
Conan jogs up the stairs, breathing hard, eyes wild. “They ain’t here, Drago. I checked everywhere.”
My jaw twitches as I stand, drawing my weapon fully now. “Get everyone looking. Maria is the Preacher. Get the word out and let’s fucking end this,” I spit.
Ignoring the guilt ripping through me. The fact that I granted access to enter.
She’s taken the only woman I’ll ever love. She’s going to pay. And so will Tatiana.
Turning my body toward the corridor. Toward the staircase. Toward the back of the property. Toward wherever she took her.
My gaze flicks down to Lev one last time. He looks small on the floor.
Not weak. Never weak. Just… human.
My hands curl into fists so tight my knuckles ache.
“I’ll bring her back,” I say softly, not to him, but to myself. To the house. To the blood. To every god that’s ever watched monsters like me crawl out of hell and call it love.
Then I move.
I will burn my way through anyone standing between her and me.
As I head to the living room, a brush of fresh air hits me. The door is open, even if it’s just a crack.
My blood turns sharp.
I rip it open. And there, pressed into the grass, faint but visible… Footprints. Two sets. One dragging slightly.
My chest tightens.
I take one step outside—
A gunshot rings out. A scream rips through the air. And my heart nearly tears from my chest.