Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Dante, present day
“Again.” I pace the floor of the dining room where my men are gathered around the table. I’ve put every asset at my disposal on the job. They’ve been here since we got home after the attack, working relentlessly with me on finding my missing wife. “Let’s hear it.”
Ulysses looks up from his computer screen, his cautious tone matching his serious regard. “We’ve been over this ten times.”
He thinks we’re wasting our energy, but he doesn’t give voice to that thought because he knows he may lose all his teeth if I plant my fist in his face or better yet, a bullet in his brain.
He recapitulates carefully. “Our time may be better spent on chasing other leads.”
He means well. He’s raising his honest opinion, wanting me to succeed as much as the next man in the room staring somberly at me. He doesn’t deserve to end up on my bad side for that.
I need to get a grip on myself.
I need to focus.
Tatiana’s life depends on it.
I fist my hands at my sides, fighting to rein in the anger that’s been mounting with every passing minute of our fruitless search.
“We’re clearly overlooking something, or we would’ve had a clue by now.
” Instead of bashing someone’s head in, which would be nothing but taking my frustration out on one of my loyal men, I pace to the window and flick my fingers at Kent.
“Let’s hear it. Go over it from the start.
And think hard. Maybe you left out something.
I want every detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem. ”
Reino leans back in his chair and presses his thumbs on his eyelids. None of us got much sleep during the last forty-eight hours. The men work in shifts, catching a couple of hours of shut eye when they can.
Only Kent looks as cool as a cucumber. He can go for days without showing any signs of fatigue, not even the bloodshot eyes most of us are sporting.
“I was holding the line in the front, covering your back.” His gaze rests steadily on mine. “When I reloaded my empty magazine, I noticed the back door was open. That’s when I realized Mrs. Teszner had run.”
I stop dead at that, the words flooring me every time.
She ran.
Again.
At the first opportunity that arose, she escaped me.
After what happened just before the attack, can I blame her? I dragged her out of the house and forced her into the car. I told her I’d make her tell me where she hid that necklace. I didn’t elaborate on the threat, but a person’s imagination could run wild with the insinuations.
Still, something feels off. Tatiana would never leave Noah behind. Maybe she’s planning on stealing him back later.
My chest tightens at the thought of my son. He cried himself to sleep last night, asking for his mommy. Remembering the oath I’d made to never lie to him or betray his trust, I had no choice but to tell him I’d lost her. I promised him in the same breath that I’d find her, and that’s what I’ll do.
Reino takes a gulp of his coffee. “We checked other street cameras, but none of them had an angle on our position.”
Which is why our attackers had chosen that spot to hit. They opened fire but quickly scattered when we gained ground on them. My men chased them to an underground tunnel with multiple exits where they lost track of them.
When the pilot got my drone to the location, they’d been long gone. If they’re worth their salt, they would’ve changed the number plates and spray-painted the vehicles in a few minutes. Trying to find the SUVs is pointless.
Forcing myself to focus and not to give in to the violence churning inside me, I turn to Ulysses. “Have you made any leeway on the identity of the attackers?”
I haven’t eliminated the possibility that Tatiana could’ve been their target.
He crosses his arms over his sleeveless jacket. “We still don’t have a trace on those fake number plates. The combat gear is available from any tactical supply outlet. So, no. I’m afraid we don’t have any leads there.”
Motherfucker.
The motive for the attack is still unclear.
It could’ve been a rival organization, but they’d have to be damn stupid to hit on me without expecting to be crushed.
Unless they’re some clueless rookies trying their luck.
The city doesn’t lack idiots who think they can come in and steal some lucrative territory.
It wasn’t one of the drug lords running their produce through the state either.
They wouldn’t have hesitated to claim responsibility before throwing a deal at me.
That’s their modus operandi for opening negotiations.
But none of them are idiotic enough to fuck with me when they know Saverio De Luca and I work on the same side. Together, we’re too powerful.
If someone took Tatiana for ransom, I would’ve received a body part by now. The thought makes me lose all rationality, so I push it away with mental violence.
I’ll find those motherfuckers. It’s only a matter of time. When I do, I’ll make them pay. But I first have to find Tatiana and bring her home. If she ran, it’s paramount that I get to her before someone else does.
Despite my intention of keeping a level head, having lost her again is fucking with my mind. I can’t think straight. A headache hammers between my temples. My eyes burn from a lack of sleep, and I’m about to lose what little sanity I have left in a bad fucking way.
“Boss?” Reino says.
I look at the men, who’ve gone quiet. A palpable tension hangs in the air as they wait for my instructions.
I scrub a hand over my face as if that could clear the rage obscuring my reason.
“You look like shit.” Ulysses watches me with unblinking eyes. “Respectfully. Maybe you should catch a few hours of sleep. And eat something.”
I’m so fucking close to bashing his head in after all. The only thing that stops me is the way they all stare at me with fear, expecting the worst.
The stubble under my palm is long overdue for a shave. I haven’t eaten a proper meal since the attack. I can’t. I won’t be able to eat or rest until I find my wife. I’ll tear this goddamn city apart and burn the whole country to the ground if that’s what it takes.
Tatiana could be in danger. I can think of a million and one horrors that can befall a woman alone out in the streets.
She has no money, phone, or weapon. Her purse with her credit card is here in the house.
Her new ID card with her married name is in the safe.
I dragged her out of the house straight after our wedding night in the sleeveless dress she was wearing for the visit to her son-of-a-bitch brother.
She doesn’t even have a jacket for when it gets cold.
Fuck.
One of her shoes is sitting like a big fat accusation on the bench at the foot end of the bed. I picked it up on the stairs when I got home after searching the streets for hours for any sign of her.
A hand falls on my shoulder.
I spin around, ready to deck the bastard who’s foolish enough to get in my way, but it’s only Jasper.
Pulling back quickly, she takes me in with wide eyes. “Have you found out anything?”
“No,” I say through gritted teeth.
To be on the safe side, I keep Jasper locked in the house. I believed her when she said Tatiana didn’t share any escape plans with her. Tatiana merely saw a chance and took it.
But leaving Noah?
That’s where the whole theory falls flat. I was so certain she’d never leave him that I gave her access to her own money. Was I wrong in doing that? Did I misjudge her affection for our child?
No.
Tatiana is inseparable from him. That kind of dedication can’t be faked.
Jasper pulls the cardigan she’s thrown over a T-shirt tighter around herself. “She’s in trouble, Dante.” Her gaze is imploring. “I know it. I have a bad feeling about this.”
I hope to God she’s wrong. Yet my hope is futile, because the worry eats its way inside me until I’m nothing but empty shadows and hollow bones.
I squeeze her shoulder. “I’ll find her.”
Nodding, she bites her lip. She glances in Reino’s direction before speaking again. “Noah is asking for you.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Nodding again, she leaves.
I drag my hands over my head, ignoring the headache that’s turned into a persistent dull ache. “What about Teszner?”
“He’s still recovering in the hospital,” Reino says. “We’re keeping eyes and ears on him.”
After I cut out his tongue and stabbed out his eyes, revenge would be a logical motive. He’d do anything to get his hands on his sister and ultimately, on that necklace.
Making my way to the door, I leave them with an order. “Let me know the minute anything comes up.”
Their, “Yes, boss,” follows me out of the room.
Noah is curled up on his bed, clutching his dinosaur in his arms. I still in the doorway, taking a moment to gather myself. Seeing him like this and not being able to fix it for him right here and now is killing me.
“Hey, buddy.” I go over and sit down next to him. “How are you doing?”
He sniffs. “I want my mommy.”
His voice is thick from crying, his small body spent from pining for his mother for two whole days, which, at his age, feels like an eternity. I know. I remember how slowly time moved when I was four years old.
I lay a hand on his narrow shoulder. “I miss her too.”
He turns onto his back, blinking up at me with eyes that are strikingly similar to mine. “Will you really find her?”
I force a smile. “Of course.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” I smooth a hand over his curls. “Do you want me to read you a story?” Maybe it will help him fall asleep.
He makes an affirmative sound.
I stand up and aim for the bookshelf, but he catches my hand and tugs on it. When I give him my attention, he points at the tattered book on the nightstand.
“You want me to read the story about the yellow plane?”
He bobs his head up and down.
Of course he’d want to read the one his mother read to him every night for as long as he can remember.
I take the book and sit down again. “Move over.”
He scoots to the middle of the bed, making space for me.
As soon as I’m sitting, shoes and all, on the bed with my back against the headboard and my ankles crossed, he cuddles up to me.
I throw an arm over his shoulders, offering him the little comfort I can, which will never make up for his mother’s absence.
He makes the dinosaur sit next to him, and then he turns his face to the illustration of the yellow plane as I open the book.
I read without registering the words coming out of my mouth. I’m too focused on Noah’s misery and on what the fuck I’m missing about Tatiana’s escape.
After a while, he dozes off. I kiss the top of his head and close the book.
I should tuck him in and go back to work. My men, as well as Sav’s, are spread out through the city, searching the airports, train and bus stations, hotels, and even shelters. Our connections on the force are pulling street camera recordings while my hacker is running face recognition programs.
I’ve circled the area where we were attacked a dozen times and combed through each alley and side street. I’ve knocked on every door, asking if anyone had seen anything. I have men widening that circle right this moment, using sniffer dogs in the hope of picking up Tatiana’s trail.
Still, it’s not enough.
I should do something.
Anything.
Yet I don’t move for fear of waking Noah.
I inhale his little boy smell of apples and soap.
He was happy in his new room with the blue curtains and airplane motive duvet cover when I brought him here.
It’s the first room he has all to himself.
His new toys and football are displayed on the matching blue shelves.
My assistant, Penelope, did the best she could to make it feel like home for him before I moved my family into my house.
Tatiana never got a chance to put her own stamp on the space, to decorate it the way she and Noah wanted.
And now Noah is no longer happy, because no matter how comfortable or big his room is, a fundamental part of what makes it home is missing.
I said I’d never lie to him. I will find his mother if it’s the last thing I do. And then I’ll lock her up and throw away the key. I’ll make sure she stays where she belongs for the rest of her days—with me.