17. Brandon
brANDON
I’m wiping Costa’s blood from my knife when my phone vibrates. I retrieve it from my pocket, and my heart skips a beat when I see the security alert.
Someone’s at the manor. The gates haven’t been breached, but they’re in the house.
I take off for my car at a sprint, not noticing the bodies of the dead men I cut through to get to Costa.
I should’ve taken my time with him to get more information, but I succumbed to my terror over losing Karolina. I ended him too quickly.
He might’ve warned me about an attack at the estate if I’d made him beg for death.
Ghost isn’t answering his phone.
“Fuck!”
I check the location of Karolina’s tracker. She’s still at the house, at least.
A sense of powerlessness I’ve never known before hollows out my chest as I race down country lanes to get back home.
I call Ghost over and over again, but he doesn’t pick up.
Panic claws at my insides, shredding rational thought. I’m little more than a feral beast by the time I skid to a stop at the end of the long driveway.
The front door is hanging off its hinges. Ghost shouldn’t have tempted fate by joking about someone blasting their way in.
The safe room. She has to be in the safe room.
I race down the labyrinthine halls. They go on forever, and even my rapidly beating heart seems to slow as time dilates.
I can’t get to her fast enough.
The house is too quiet.
Deadly quiet.
I round the corner to the corridor that leads to the safe room and find a nightmare waiting for me.
Ghost is sprawled on the floor, unmoving. His white shirt is stained crimson.
Something crunches beneath my boot.
The tracker.
It’s coated in her blood.
A purely primal roar rips from my chest.
I rush to Ghost. His pulse is faint, but my friend isn’t dead.
I shake him. “Where is she?”
He chokes on a wet cough. “I’m sorry, Ragnar. I couldn’t stop them. They took her…”
He trails off. He’s barely breathing.
“Open your eyes, Ghost. Don’t you dare die on me.”
His only response is another weak cough.
“I need you to help me find her.” My heart is in my throat. “You can’t die. Logan!”
I have to save my friend. I can’t lose the only two people in the world I care about.
And I won’t be able to track down Karolina without his expertise.
Every second that passes takes her farther away from me.
They won’t kill her, I reason. They could’ve shot her right here, but they took her with them.
But if my enemies have her, they’ll know how to make her wish for death.
I struggle to rein in my mind-numbing panic.
As long as she’s alive, I can fix her. She’s a survivor. She’ll fight for her life.
Right now, I have to save Logan.
I rush to the empty safe room and grab the emergency supplies I need. I’m no medical expert, but I’ve treated enough of my own wounds in the past to know what to do. I can slow Logan’s blood loss, but it’ll be up to him to pull through.
When he’s bandaged up, I lightly slap his face.
“I need you to wake up. Please…”
I slap him harder.
He groans, and his eyes flutter open.
“I failed you,” he rasps. “I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry.”
I hold up a hand to cut off his apology. “I need you to help me find her. Can you stand?”
He tries to push up onto his elbows but drops back down almost immediately.
“Bring me a laptop,” he commands, voice too faint. “I’ll find your girl.”
I don’t want to leave him, but I tear myself from his side so I can rush to the study. I grab his laptop and run back to him.
When I return to the bloody corridor, he’s managed to prop himself upright against the wall. His cheeks are chalky with the effort, but he’s still conscious.
I set the laptop on his knees, and his fingers clatter over the keyboard.
“What happened with Costa?” he asks.
“He’s dead. I didn’t make him talk first.” Regret sours my stomach. “I lost control.”
Logan nods, then winces in pain. “I got more intel while you were out,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’ll keep pulling those threads.”
“What did you find?”
“It’s not just Costa and Ivanov. It’s Sokolov. He’s finally going to make you pay for making him look weak when you went freelance. There’s chatter on the dark web. He’s been reaching out to the families of the men you killed. He’s planning something big.”
“What is he planning?” I demand.
Logan’s eyes widen when he finds the information he’s looking for. “An auction.”
“What does that have to do with Karolina?”
He looks at me with something like pity.
“The highest bidder gets to have her,” he says carefully. “They know it’ll kill you. They don’t need to torture you to make you suffer for what you did to them.”
My fist punches through the wood-paneled wall, but I don’t feel the splinters cutting into my knuckles.
“Where?” I roar. “Where did they take her?”
More clattering of his fingers over the keyboard. “A warehouse outside London. The auction starts in less than an hour.”
I won’t be able to get to her in time to stop it.
“Send the coordinates to my phone.”
My muscles bunch with impending violence as I get to my feet.
“You can’t go alone,” he insists.
But he can’t manage to rise. He’s far too pale, and his features are taut with pain.
“Goodbye, Logan.”
I won’t be seeing him again.
I’ll give anything to save Karolina, even my life. It means nothing without her.