Chapter 34 #2
Then I notice the computer open on the desk.
And all that misery spirals into something else when I wrench myself away from Bo’s embrace, collapsing in front of the laptop. My fingers tap manically, striking the keys until the program Dante once showed me pops up on the screen.
The red tracker flashes in sync with my increasing pulse, seeing the word ACTIVE pinned above the only functioning tracker left. “It’s active,” I breathe in disbelief.
The target is on the move, bordering the warehouses my husband owned just this morning.
An empire now back in my father’s grasp.
Bo places three documents on the keyboard. Passports. “Listen to me,” he says calmly, too calmly, as if he knows I’m one word from madness. “We need to run, Sophie. You know it’s what he’d want.”
That flashing red is my only link to salvation.
Paradise awaits across a large and vast ocean, a life with my loved ones within reach, yet those four years of freedom felt empty without his. And if he never gets it, neither will I.
That morbid conviction is suddenly all that I am.
It fills the gaps, replaces my agony and exhaustion with something so dark and so vengeful that I willingly give myself up to it rather than feel whatever this is, letting the numbness overtake whatever is broken inside of me.
Xavier’s steady resolve makes sense once I’ve reconciled myself with what’s next.
“I'm going to him,” I whisper, my words frost-bitten.
Bo chokes on his. “ What did you say?”
“This is my fight.”
He’s visibly appalled. “No, it’s not!”
“He’s my husband. He’s alive, Bo. He has to be.”
“That tracker is on his body , Sophie. He doesn’t need to be alive for it to work!”
“He’s alive.”
I’ll say it as many times as I need to for it to be true.
He seizes my shoulders, imploring me to listen. “He saved you to get Isabella to safety, Sophie.”
“That’s why you’ll take her.”
“Me?”
“She trusts you. She’s known you her whole life. Get on a plane. Get her out of here and away from us until we end this. She’s safer with you than anyone else. Even me.”
“Sophie—”
I grab him, forcing him to see the desperation that would never fail me. “I will find him.”
A look of disgust tightens in his eyes. “This is suicide .”
Maybe it is. Maybe I prefer it to a life without him.
“You said you understood,” I bite back. “You saw us. You were the one who put me on that damn plane in the first place. I didn’t fight you back then, but I will now. I will fight for that man, and I will win .”
His eyes widen as he stares into my implacable gaze. “This is insane.”
My tears have dried. That flashing red tracker has revived a hope I shouldn’t feel. “I need weapons, Bo. Clothing. Money. His passport. Can you get them?”
Stunned and struggling to grasp what I just laid at our feet, he nods slowly. “Sophie…”
Before he can argue further, I return to the bathroom for Isabella, putting an end to the discussion.
Bo deposits an arsenal onto the mattress, watching as I strap various weapons to the harness secured to my chest. There are compartments for fighting knives, ammunition that I pour into my jacket pocket, a silencer, and diverse guns that I stuff into the holster.
None of it could possibly be enough, but I keep arming myself, fighting past the strangling sensation in my chest that just wants to leave.
Every second here is one wasted.
“Did she fall asleep?” Bo asks, referring to Isabella, who I tucked into bed fifteen minutes ago.
“No, she’s quiet, though.”
After a shower and a change of clothes, I shouldn’t attract attention. I take a deep breath and shake my head. “I'm trying not to think about what they’re doing to him.”
“Sophie…”
There’s no hope in his voice. It enrages me beyond words, as I’m not willing to accept any other option. As long as he’s still breathing, I can reach him. If I’ve accomplished anything in my life, it’s that I’ve trained for this very moment.
“He’d do this for any of us,” I snap.
“I know it.”
“He deserves nothing less than this!”
For a moment, Bo regards me with pride, moved beyond words.
His eyes become wet with everything he’s holding in.
He’s clearly lost hope in many things, and I don’t blame him.
Because it’s not just our lives that have been ruined.
It’s theirs. They are all fleeing everything they’ve ever known, forced to live with a new identity in a foreign place, always looking over their shoulders.
Still, anything is better than this.
“This is the location,” he finally says, breaking the silence. “Memorize it, and when you have, burn it.”
I quietly recite the address from the note he hands me, committing it to memory as he rushes into the room to fetch Isabella, sirens wailing in the distance.
“Bo! ”
“I hear them.”
“You have the tickets?”
Back in the living room, he holds Isabella close, hugging her tightly to him. He gives me a nod and hands over the gun bag containing breakdown rifles and all the essential documents I may need if I somehow get to Xavier before they get to me. “Everything is there.”
“Let’s go.”
Bo slips out of the apartment first, and he does it without a second glance, reconciled with where our choices have led us.
Me? I’m not so sure. My limbs seize with fear.
As dawn breaks, soft sunlight starts to grace the window.
The oppressive darkness recedes, taking with it this night of unspeakable horrors.
Whatever the risks, they are worth it.
If anything, I’m convinced by the gravitational pull that draws me to him. That pull leads me to the computer, where I open the screen. The tracker is still flashing, now frozen. The location isn’t surprising. They’ve taken him back to where he last suffered for saving what he loved.
My feet race toward the front door.
I'm coming. Hold on, baby… I'm coming .
We’re nearly sprinting through the airport to catch the flight on time.
To speed things up, Bo hauls Isabella into his arms, maneuvering around slow travelers and airport personnel to reach the gate before the doors close.
There’s so many people. Eyes. I'm searching every room we rush through, terrified by the sight of anyone in a suit.
Any man with olive skin and a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
They must be monitoring the airports; I'm sure of it. But I need to be here to see her plane take off. Only then can I leave.
“I can’t go any further,” I gasp, gripping Bo by the shirt as we slow near the gate.
He doesn’t push me away as I throw my arms around them, forcing myself not to focus on how terrified he looks while holding a child he’ll raise if I don’t make it out.
Another selfish act I have to beg him to accept.
“You’ll take care of her… if anything should happen?—?”
There’s no hint of hesitation. “Like my own, Sophie.”
“I love you, Bo. Tell everyone I love them. Tell Courtney I’m sorry.”
He shuts his eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I press my lips to Isabella’s cheek, my fingers lightly grazing the swelling around her eyes apologetically as I lower my voice. “Izzy, you are such a good girl. Be good to Bo. Listen to him.”
“I don’t want to go!”
“I love you, Isabella,” I whisper for the first time, my heart heavy with an ache I can’t shake. “So does your Daddy. More than anything.”
“But I want Daddy! I want to wait!”
My eyes lock with Bo’s, both of us sensing that she’s on the verge of a breakdown.
Go . It’s unspoken, but he understands me.
Taking a step back, I let him run to hand his passport to the stewardess, who playfully frowns at Isabella crying into his chest. It feels like I’m being strangled as I see her glance back, thrashing her arms frantically in my direction.
I want so badly to look away, unable to bear witness as they are cleared, on the verge of losing myself.
Watch them, Sophie. Watch .
Just before entering the tunnel, Bo casts one last look my way. He nods. I do the same.
And that’s it.
They vanish into the hangar. My legs lead me to the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows as I envision the trek I’ll make to Bo’s truck parked a few blocks from the airport. The weapons concealed under the seat just waiting to be used .
“Come on,” I urge under my breath, my eyes veiled under a navy baseball cap, fixated on the plane slowly retreating from the gate. “Come on.”
The moments stretch on like excruciating hours.
As the plane hurtles upward from the runway and into the churning storm clouds, a shaky breath escapes my lips.
She’s safe.
She’s gone .
Once again, I stand resolutely alone, transforming into the shadow of someone I thought had vanished forever. A woman with a calloused heart, wielding hands that yearn to inflict pain. This isn’t a dream or a nightmare. All that’s left is to find my husband.
That’s why I stayed behind.
I’ll either find him or die trying.
I know that. I'm prepared for it.
With a sharp inhale, as their plane is swallowed by heavy clouds, I turn for the exit.