Milo
Something is wrong.
I don’t need proof or logic.
I feel it low in my gut.
And it has her name engraved into it.
Octavia.
My jaw clenches so hard I’m certain something cracks. I don’t ignore instincts like this.
The dead bastard at my feet stares up at nothing, his eyes glassy and mouth slack.
The moment Adriano pats his pockets and freezes, I know.
That damn feeling again.
“My phone,” he says, irritated. “It’s gone. Must’ve lost it in the mess.”
“No,” I snap. “You didn’t.”
I don’t know how I know, only that I do. This was a distraction.
Too easy.
We caught him too easily. As if he hadn’t even tried to hide.
As if he wanted to be caught.
He was sacrificed.
“Track it,” I bark.
Logically, he could have misplaced it. But the feeling won’t ease. It tightens in my chest, makes it hard to breathe.
Adriano’s fingers fly as I pass him my phone. The colour drains from his face.
“It’s on the island,” he says. “About nineteen miles away.”
He looks up at me. “How the fuck did it get there?”
My blood turns to ice.
I snatch the phone from his hand and punch the address into the navigation. I’m already sprinting for the car, calling Octavia as I move.
No answer.
Fuck.
Be in bed.
Be asleep.
Don’t make me be right about this.
Adriano barely makes it into the passenger seat before I floor it. I drive like a man with nothing left to lose.
Fifteen minutes later, my world ends.
I see her before the car has even stopped.
My woman.
She’s crumpled on the ground, her body still. I see the red even from here, and I fucking know what it is.
I don’t bother turning the engine off.
“Octavia!”
My voice rips out of me, raw and feral, echoing through the trees.
I’m on my knees beside her in seconds, my hands are shaking as I cradle her face gently.
“No,” I breathe. “No, no, no, no, no.”
Fear grips my chest—real fear, the kind I’ve never known, tearing me open from the inside.
My fingers move to her wrist, my body tightening with dread.
I can’t breathe, but I force air into my lungs anyway. My heart is hammering fast and wrong, each beat painful.
Seeing her like this hurts.
Trying to breathe hurts.
Existing in this moment fucking kills.
My fingertips find her pulse. It’s weak, so weak it scares the hell out of me, but it’s there.
The relief hits me hard and air rushes back into my lungs as if I’ve been held underwater.
She flinches under my touch, even unconscious, and it damn near breaks me.
Blood runs from her hairline and her nose, streaking her face, mixing with dirt and grit. Small stones cling to her clothes, bruises already starting to form beneath the grime.
Her eyes stay closed.
She doesn’t move.
I’ve never wanted to burn the world down more.
I look up at Adriano, my vision red. “Call a helicopter. Now.”
He looks at Octavia, his jaw tight.
“If it’s not here in two minutes,” I continue coldly, “someone else dies today. Make sure they understand that.”
My hands stay on her wrist, feeling for her pulse. I can’t take my eyes off her.
“Fuck!” I roar as a tear drops, falling from my cheek and landing on hers, mixing into the blood there.
“I need you,” I grind out. “Fuck, I need you more than anything on this earth. If you aren’t here, neither am I. What’s the fucking point, gorgeous, if I live for you?”