Chapter 42
FORTY-TWO
Levi
“She should have been here by now.” I look around nervously, like maybe she’ll suddenly appear from the corner or the stairs.
We've already blown the local grid, taken the vault, with some difficulty, and packed our bags with the relics and any of the paperwork that looks relevant. Rowan is finishing up one last assessment of the shelves inside the vault to make sure there’s nothing else that’s imperative.
The delay has cost us time and ammunition as several of his security team have made their way down the staircase Bishop’s been holding.
The same staircase she should have come down five minutes ago.
My stomach turns, and the bile rises in the back of my throat.
I hate myself for letting her go in there alone, for using her like this.
I should have called off the plan the second I learned how cruel he’d been to her over the years.
There’s no telling what he’ll do to punish her if he thinks she’s a willing participant in this.
“She might be somewhere she can’t leave yet. She’ll be here.” Bishop tries to reassure me.
“We can’t wait. We’ll lose all of this and get killed in the process,” Rowan states plainly. Ever the pragmatist.
“I can’t leave her behind.” I let my tone make it crystal clear I’m not leaving without her.
“The fuck you can’t. This is a job. It’s his daughter. This is her home. They’re not going to kill her. She’ll be fine.” Rowan’s dismissal of her safety presses on a raw nerve.
“His daughter, who betrayed him to help us,” I snap back. “His daughter, who he sold off to the highest bidder in order to get more political leverage. He might not kill her, but he’ll destroy her.”
“That’s not our problem. It’s hers.” Rowan looks at me like I’ve lost my mind for even broaching this argument. “We’re fucking leaving. Like it or not. You don’t blow a whole fucking plan.” He shoves my bag into my arms.
“No fucking way. I’m not leaving her.” I stand firm. “You wouldn’t fucking leave Charlotte like this.”
“Charlotte would have been down here five minutes ago.”
“Fuck you.” I close the space between us, seeing red.
I stretch my fingers, trying to think of a reason not to slam my fist into Rowan’s face. I know it’s the adrenaline and her life on the line setting me on edge, but I’ve had enough of his carelessness when it comes to her. I’d never encourage him to leave Charlotte behind.
“Do it. Do it and see what fucking happens.” Rowan’s steel-gray eyes scan mine.
“Hey, hey. Let’s think with cooler heads. We can give it another minute or two. She’d do it for us.” Bishop tries to be the calm voice in the chaos.
Rowan blows out a breath and rolls his eyes, shaking his head and giving me a wary look that manages the slightest hint of empathy. One that lets me take a step back.
“We need to get out. If his security has her somewhere, there’s no telling where. We don’t have time to search a house this big. We don’t have enough men or enough ammunition to clear it. Your guy knows that; he just doesn’t want to tell you.” Rowan looks between Bishop and me.
I turn to Bishop, who glances back at me. It’s my plan, but he’s the head of the operation now that we’re on the ground. He knows the odds better than I do. I need his assessment.
“He’s right. I hate it, but he’s right. If your priority is getting out of here with any of this, we’re out of time. Too many things have to go perfectly for us to get out of here, and the more we go off schedule, the less likely it is.” Bishop’s tone is strained.
“This was mission fucking impossible from the beginning.” Rowan starts moving toward the window of the basement that we plan to use as egress. “So let’s fucking go. Now.”
“You two go. I’m going after her.” I shake my head and move for the stairs so Bishop can fall back. I toss him my bag as we pass each other.
There’s no way. Absolutely no way I can leave her here alone. I wouldn’t want to live with myself if I did. I couldn’t. Even if I thought he wouldn’t hurt her, the leaving alone would break her into a thousand tiny pieces. I can't do that to her. I won't.
“Are you sure?” Bishop’s eyes search mine, telling me without saying a word that I’ve absolutely lost my shit to think this is a good idea.
“I’m sure. Just get the horses ready for us. Hopefully, we’ll meet you in time; if not, we’ll catch up.”
Rowan turns back to look at me one last time, frustration in his tone and worry etched on his face. The man has a heart after all.
“You should leave with us. She knows where to find us. She knows the grounds better than anyone.” Rowan tries one last time to convince me.
“You know you wouldn’t leave Charlotte. I can’t leave Zeph. Now go.” I urge them on, and I head up the stairs.
“Wait!” Bishop calls after me, and I look back as he tosses me an extra clip of ammunition. “You’ll need it up there.”
I nod my thanks, and an unspoken goodbye passes between us.
I know as well as he does that my odds are absolutely fucking abysmal.
We were going to be lucky to get out at all, and this will seal my fate.
But at least she'll know someone came back for her. She’ll know that for once in her life, someone put her first—loved her enough not to leave her behind.
I need her to know I’m that person for her. Always.
Besides, nothing’s impossible if you want it badly enough.
I jog up the stairs, reminding myself of that fact over and over until I get to the main hallway.
It’s hard to see in the dark, even with the night-vision Bishop supplied us with.
It’s pitch fucking black, but down the hall I see a flicker of light.
There’s a kerosene lamp on in the far room. It has to be her.
I race toward it, as quickly and as quietly as I can. Hoping and praying that nothing’s happened to her in all this chaos. I'll say a million fucking rosaries a day, join a monastery, whatever I have to do, just as long as it means I can get her out of here unscathed.
I lean against the wall, taking a deep breath before I breach the door and see the last thing I’m expecting—the governor with a gun to Zephyrine’s head.