8. Pasha
8
For probably the first time in my life, when I hear sirens and see the flashing red, white, and blue lights strobing through the windows, I’m grateful.
Police officers rush through the building, doubling the search in progress spearheaded by my vors and their men. Doors burst open on every floor, and medical teams drop whatever they’re doing that isn’t life-threatening to help check the occupied rooms.
It’s been fifteen minutes of this fucking bullshit and I am on my very last frayed nerve.
And then?—
“Vlad just called.” Sofi nudges me to take a right instead of left at a corridor intersection. “He found them.”
I damn near kick the cafeteria doors in.
Right on cue, Stewart fucking Hamish leaps to his feet in the center of the crowded dining hall and points a bony finger at me.
“You couldn’t keep your own daughter safe!” His screeching only spurs me on, and no one wants to be in my path. When he sees the crowd isn’t stopping me, he scrambles backward against the table. “How can I trust you to keep my daughter safe?! You just?—”
My fist connects with his face. Stewart falls back on the table with a groan, blood trickling from his nose. He shuts the fuck up, and he’ll stay that way if he knows what’s good for him.
The sight makes Ophelia scream. I whip around to see her cowering at a different table, hugging the bag to her chest.
I’ve never hit a woman before. I swore I never would.
This might be an exception.
“Give me the bag.” My fingers flex, torn between wanting to grab the bag from her and wanting to throttle her unconscious.
For once, Ophelia does the right thing and hands me the bag. I’m careful not to grab too hard, but I’m also quick to take it away from her and far out of her reach.
I set the bag down on one of the tables and carefully pull the zipper open. My heart pounds in my ears, deafening all other sounds save for the tiny murmurs of my baby girl.
“There you are.” My voice cracks. I’m trying to be gentle with my daughter and a force to be reckoned with to everyone else, but honestly—I’m just so fucking relieved she’s alive. Alive, safe, and seemingly unaware of the adventure she’s been on.
Taty yawns as I gingerly pick her up out of the bag. When she blinks up at me, all the stress and worry and anxiety flooding my system dissolves.
I slump onto one of the bench seats just to regain feeling in my legs. The relief is overwhelming. I hold her as close to my chest as I can without crushing her, whispering promises that I’m never, ever letting her out of my sight ever again.
Police officers swarm the cafeteria, guns drawn and gazes scanning the area. When they see me holding my baby, they beeline in my direction until Sofi and a bunch of surrounding witnesses point out Stewart and Ophelia and explain everything that went down.
“Since your daughter didn’t leave the premises, this doesn’t qualify as a full-blown kidnapping,” one of the officers eventually explains while his colleagues put the Hamishes in cuffs. “But if you want to press charges?—”
“Yes.” It’s not even a question of “if.” Simply, “when.” “Attempted kidnapping. Bribery. Assault. My lawyer is already drafting the paperwork for a civil suit. We are happy to provide evidence for a criminal case.”
The cop nods. “Very well. We can escort you back up to the room, or…”
I shake my head. “No. Thank you.” He seems like a decent man; I just don’t want to deal with anything more today.
As the Hamishes are hoisted onto their feet and led away, something nags inside my mind to the point that I can’t let it go.
“Why?”
Stewart pulls against his restraint so he can look at me. “‘Why’? You really need to ask?”
I nod. I don’t trust myself to not scream in his face.
“She thinks you’re some goddamned hero come to save the day,” he spits. “We know better. I know better. We just wanted our daughter and granddaughter home with us. Where it’s safe. From you.”
The maternity ward is eerily quiet when we return. The staff won’t look at me, and there’s a lone janitor sweeping up debris from “some guy who shot the ceiling.”
“Do you know anything about that?” the lead officer asked me before they left.
Sofi and I looked at each other. Then, in unison, we both shrugged. “You’ll have to check with the head of security.”
Though they’ll have to wait on that until I’m done with him. For now, he’s safely tucked away in a locked bunker where he can ponder the days he has left on this earth.
When we reach the door to the room, Mama greets us with a finger to her lips. “Softly,” she whispers. “They had to give her a little something to calm her down. She’s awake, but…”
Mama’s voice trails off, and then her eyes light up when she sees Taty snug and swaddled in my arms.
“Go to her.” She rubs my arm and nudges me inside.
The room is dark, the blinds drawn, the lights low. Daphne sits upright on the bed, pale and listless as she stares at the sheets. Tracks of tears are now dry on her face, but her body still hiccups.
“I can’t… I can’t find…” Her mumblings drift. She curls her arms around her waist and hunches over. “I’m sorry… I can’t find…”
“Hey, hey.” I try to calm her with a gentle hand to her head, sitting down on the bed next to her. “It’s okay. Look.”
I ease Tatyanna onto her lap, careful to support her little head while Daphne’s eyes struggle to focus on the bundle wriggling and babbling at her.
It takes a while for realization to dawn.
“Taty…? Tatyanna! My baby!” Daphne bursts into tears and cradles our daughter to her breast, rocking back and forth to soothe both of them. Taty seems to sense her mother’s distress, because she goes from calm and quiet into a squealing force of nature.
I shift from the bed to the chair next to them and slump into the cushions with a heavy sigh. I never realized how fucking tense my entire body has been until right now. Now, I’m a limp puddle of relief and exhaustion.
No one asks me to move from this spot. No one needs me or at least, no one comes to me needing anything for the rest of the day. Mama pokes her head in now and then to make sure we have food and drinks, but otherwise, she leaves us alone to recover. Mak stands guard outside the door, but doesn’t enter unless he’s grabbing some of the food. Sofi stops by once to let me know everything pertinent will be emailed, but that I’m not allowed to check my inbox for the rest of the day.
She’ll hear no argument from me. I’m in no mood to deal with any more bullshit. I just want to sit here and watch my two beautiful girls sleep.
“We just wanted our daughter and granddaughter home with us.”
That must have been what the nursery in their home was for. The unfinished crib, the stuffed toys and pale pink blankets…
They’ve been planning this.
Knowing them, they won’t stop. Not until Taty is in their clutches, Daphne be damned.
The sun is down and has been for a while. I don’t know what time it is. All I know is I need sleep, and I’m not going to get any unless I can feel Daphne and Tatyanna safe in my arms. So I kick off my shoes and crawl into the bed next to my woman, my beautiful woman, and wrap my arm around her waist. My hand rests on Tatyanna where she sleeps soundly in her attached bassinet.
I don’t want to give any weight to Hamish’s words at all—they’re the ravings of a man on the edge of losing his mind. Hell, he’s already lost almost everything else.
But that’s the part that worries me: when a man has nothing to lose, he has everything to gain.
And I have everything he wants.