32
Logan
“Well, this is getting us nowhere.”
Damien yawns, stretching his arms as we sit in a car parked opposite the Solaro home. I watch as the police carry out bags of various shapes and sizes, which I know contain the chopped-up remains of Peter and Mia Solaro.
“You’re just too focused on staring at your camera feed to reach the right conclusions,” he tells me.
“I mean, I’m not judging you. I remember how that was.
I had a permanent migraine, watching Seraphina, and I nearly let the whole of the Devil Empire slip out of my grasp. Worse, I turned into a total bore.”
I shrug, taking a sip of the acrid coffee we got at a shitty little place on the way here.
“So don’t get me wrong,” continues Damien, “I get how distracting it is. Even though your girl’s camera feed is a lot more boring than mine was. At least my girl moved a little. Sometimes she sat on her bed, other times on the chair. Also on the couch and the balcony, and—”
“Shut up, Damien,” I grunt.
“It’s just that Lia’s spent the last ten hours at least lying on the ground, not moving. Is she even alive?”
“Yes.” I force out the word. “I see her chest rising and falling.”
“That must be a state-of-the-art camera system, to catch that level of detail.”
“Also, her eyes are fixed to the camera, and they’re blinking.”
“Alright, then, she’s fine. In her defense, she doesn’t have a whole apartment; just a cage. There isn’t much to do other than just… lie there.”
“Fuck.” I let my head fall, massaging my temple with a fist. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have locked her up. I shouldn’t have left her there. I’m an asshole.”
“Yeah, you really are,” chuckles Damien. “I’m not saying I’m not, but you take it to a whole new level. One second you’re a big old softie, the next you’re locking your girl in a cage. At least, Seraphina always knew what she was getting with me.”
“I shouldn’t have done it,” I groan. “She’s depressed. I hurt her.”
“Okay, man.” Damien pats my arm. “I know you’ll beat me up if I say she deserves it, so I won’t say it.
But I didn’t cut my Paris trip short to hear you whine.
We’ve just found out the Solaros have been chopped up into tidy little bits and their feet proudly displayed on a pillow, so clearly, we’re on the right track.
The Puicin Gang are responsible. The Solaros must have owed them a debt too. ”
I huff out a sigh.
Damien’s phone rings then, and he brings it up to his ear. “Everest. Uh huh. Uh huh. Spit it out, man. Uh huh. Yeah? Okay, then. Uh huh.”
“Whenever you feel like sharing, Damien…” I growl.
“Hmm? Okay, Everest. Yeah, man, get the address. I’ll fill Logan in.”
Damien hangs up and turns to me. “So, remember how the Solaros’ kid died?”
“Well, yeah…”
“They had another kid. A kid who, apparently, isn’t dead.”
“Okay…”
“Weirdly, this other baby wasn’t on any records.
Like, totally invisible. No trace of her whatsoever.
No birth certificate, or foster or adoption records, no school enrollment or anything.
No one knew about her until she woke up to a pair of chopped-up feet on the pillow of her attic bed and called for help. Do you know how old she is, Logan?”
I stare at him, my blood turning ice-cold. “You’re not saying…”
“Eighteen years old, Logan. She’s eighteen years old. Isn’t it possible...”
“Damien.” I clasp his shoulder, nearly crushing it in my shock, as my mind reaches the same conclusion his does. “Did Everest say anything else?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But I do know the name of the social worker who took the mystery kid in.”
“We have to go—” I cut myself off. “Fuck!”
My eyes have just wandered down to my phone screen, and my lips part in horror as I see the noose around Lia’s neck. Her eyes seem to look straight at me as she takes a step off the bed and… falls.
“Fuck!” I scream. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
I try to quit the app and find a number to call, but my hands are shaking so hard the phone leaves my hands, falling to the ground. In my frantic scramble to get it, I barely hear Damien’s calm, collected voice as he calls his assistant.
“Hey, Vincent? Get your ass up to Logan’s apartment. No, I don’t care what you’re doing—go. We have a suicidal girl on our hands. You’d better get her down before her neck snaps in two, or I’ll kill you with my bare hands. Got it?”
He hangs up and lifts me up into the seat I’ve somehow managed to slide down from. I barely hear him or see him, or feel his touch: I’m beside myself in anguish, my mind spiraling as I try to understand how we got here.
I thought I was keeping her safe, and instead, I made her suffer so much she did… this.
“It’s okay, Logan. It’s okay. Vincent is going to get her.
She’ll be okay, and you’re going to make it right.
If you need to be cruel, you can be cruel to me; I can take it.
She can’t. But you’re soft. You’ve always been soft, and from now on, that’s the only side she’ll get.
You’re going to show her the real you. The person you’ve always been, under the layers of hurt. Please look at me, Logan. It’s okay.”
I can’t remember the last time Damien spoke so gently, and some vague part of me realizes my reaction must really be freaking him out. But I can’t do anything but succumb to the terror and pain that have overtaken me.
“It’s going to be okay,” he repeats for what feels like the tenth time.
The engine turns on, and I know he’s taking us back to Devil Tower. But every second I’m away from her feels like agony, and we’re hours away.
I close my eyes, allowing myself to give in to my overpowering helplessness.