Chapter Thirty-Three
Parker
I find Sabrina mid-freak-out, on the floor under an antique coffee table, ass up. “Uhhh… baby?”
She hits her head on the top of the table with an “Oof!” and crawls backwards from beneath it, sitting on her heels, blonde topknot a mess and eyes red-rimmed again.
I grimace and bend to help her, taking both hands in mine, and pull her up. "What's got you so blue, baby?”
Sabrina wipes at her eyes, then reaches for a tissue on the table to wipe at her nose. “I can’t find my ring. I had it on a necklace while I was at the Ainsworth estate and now… Oh god, I think I lost it. I think it’s still there. Can you take me?”
I feel my brows shoot up. “Ahhh, it’s close to midnight. I don’t think we’ll find it. Especially not under all that rubble.”
“I-I-I have to try, Parker, please.”
The sadness and mild madness in her eyes tell me she won’t give up and we won’t leave this country until she gets her way. I dip my chin. “Alright. Just… suit up. It’s freezing out there.”
Her entire face brightens, and she tips on her toes to kiss me.
It’s soft, barely there, but it’s one of the first and only kisses she’s placed on me since we got Maks back.
Even crying, she’s so goddamn beautiful it makes my heart weak.
She grabs my hand and I let her tug me to the coat closet, where I help her get into her winter gear, then I get into mine.
After making our way through the back door and to the side lodgings where the staff stays during the week, we step out into the frozen tundra, the moon our only source of light, minus the little solar ones along the pathway.
We decided to keep the lights off in case any remaining Syndicate members get smart and try to find us; they’ll see an unlit manor.
Snow crunches beneath our boots as we get to the garage built on the side of the manor in the late sixties.
I open the door to the little red luxurious sports car Tildy was driving a few days ago like a madwoman on steroids, help Sabrina in, close the door behind her, and walk over to the driver’s side and get in.
It's quiet in the car, and I can feel Sabrina’s mind racing a mile a minute, but she doesn’t say anything, just stares out the windshield, leg bouncing the closer we get to the Ainsworth ruins. Which is exactly as I said—ruined.
After passing the broken wrought iron gates and driving down the undisturbed driveway blanketed with snow, I shift gears as we come to a slow halt, sliding the gear into neutral and pulling the e-brake to park.
Without waiting for me, she opens the door and steps out, staring up at the sooty, ghastly reminder of what happened here.
Except the last time we were here, smoke was billowing from the left side into the snow-heavy clouds.
Gray against gray. Rubble and ash. No burning embers.
No bodies. If there weren’t a gaping hole on the left side of the damn thing, you would never know what happened here.
The bitter breeze gently lifts her hair while I stare at her, but she’s too busy staring at the void to notice me.
Sabrina folds her arms over her chest and lets out a huff, breath fogging only to disappear.
Another huff escapes her, but I realize it’s a hollow chuckle.
“This place took away a lot more than just a ring, didn’t it? ”
“I don’t think it’s safe to go in there,” I provide when she takes her first few steps toward the mess.
She pauses while I catch up, removes her glove, and peeks down at her naked finger, then back up at the home that looks ready to collapse.
She shivers beside me and nods her head in defeat, biting her lower lip.
Silent tears cascade down her rosy cheeks.
She inhales sharply then mutters a squeaky “Damnit” under her breath. The sound is heart wrenching.
“What is it?”
Sabrina puts her glove back on and turns toward the car. “I’m just trying really hard not to believe the universe is sending me some kind of omen.”
I open the door for her. “Losing your ring is an omen?”
She waits for me to get in the car before she replies, “I lost my ring while trying to bring my husband back… and now he’s as silent as my ring was heavy.”
“It’s gonna be okay, baby. He just—”
“Needs time? Patience? I have it all in spades. For him. For you… maybe I’m dramatic,” she lets out a bitter huff of a laugh, “but it feels as though the man I brought back is not our husband.”
I don’t know how to reply to that. So I don't. Instead, I stare out the windshield, same as her, as more snow begins to fall, that deafening silence lingering like a heavy presence between us, threatening catastrophe.
December