Page 108 of Callum

“We have to help them.”

“Who?” I scan the clearing, my eyes skipping past the carnage of the northern tree line. Maddock is having far too much fun with that RPG launcher.

“The GiGi’s,” Rosalind shoves to her feet, quickly slicing through the rope hanging from her wrist. She turns toward the GiGi’s, but I grab one arm to pull her back.

“Why would we help them? Just let them all kill each other.”

“No.”

“Why? They tried to kill you!”

“Ginetta saved our daughter.” Her words are sharp like she wishes she didn’t have to say them. I find myself wishing the same because that isn’t a debt I can ever repay.

I refuse to be indebted to Ginetta fucking Ricci.

“How do you know?”

“Dodge thought our daughter was dead,” Rosalind huffs, trying to pull her arm from my grasp. Behind her, another Roman soldier falls to the ground. The unknown sniper is still hidden in the trees, and we’re standing here with no cover. “We have to help them, Callum.”

“Fine.” We move in unison, slinking toward the nearest line of defense. Ginetta and Kyler are holding their own with help from the sniper. My gaze sweeps the area until I see Harlowe crouched next to one of the Roman’s trucks. At first, I think she’s hiding from the fight, but then I see it.

I pull Rosalind into my arms, spinning until I’m between her and the truck as Harlowe takes off at a dead run. She’s still limping from when I shot her in the knee, but I don’t wait to see if she makes it out of the way before the truck explodes. Glass and flames shoot out in every direction, causing Rosalind to suck in a breath. I curl tighter around her, feeling the glass slice through the back of my sweater.

“Callum!” Lachlan’s voice rings out, but it isn’t through my comm. He’s ten feet away, crouching behind the shitty Crown Vic with his M16 lying across the trunk. Lachlan pulls the trigger, and I hear someone yell out behind me. The sounds of fighting have died down considerably, but that doesn’t mean this is over. “Grant can’t find the sniper.”

“There’s a sniper?” Rosalind asks, her eyes wide as she scans the tree line before us. She isn’t looking anywhere near the spot the shots have been coming from.

I gently direct her chin in the direction of the second sniper while asking Lachlan, “How is that possible”?

“They must have some kind of blind.”

“It’s Grim.” Rosalind’s voice is so soft I almost miss it, but her hand twists in my sweater as she draws my attention to her again. “It’s Grim.”

“Goddammit,” Grant hisses through the comm, clearly having heard Rosalind when she spoke the second time. “Friend or foe?”

“Is Grim on our side, Rosalind?”

“Have you killed any GiGi’s?”

I wait for my brothers to answer and breathe a sigh of relief when they all respond in the negative. “We haven’t.”

“Don’t, and you’ll be fine.” Rosalind doesn’t say anything else, taking off toward the tree line.

“Rosalind!” She’s moving directly toward the spot I pointed out. Realizing she’s sprinting toward a mass murderer with a fucking sniper rifle, I race after her. My arms wrap around her waist, pulling her into my chest before she can get away from me again. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Grim has our daughter!”

“I seriously doubt Grim brought a toddler to a firefight,” I spin her around, gesturing at the chaos behind me.

Rosalind’s wide eyes sweep the clearing, but I can see the fear and pain behind them. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

“Callum,” Maddock’s voice crackles through my ears. My eyes scan the clearing until they land on Mads standing near the trucks with Harlowe. She’s bouncing nervously on the balls of her feet, hands twisting in the front of her shirt as she speaks quickly to Maddock. “She’s at the Convent.”

“Who is at the Convent?” Rosalind’s gaze meets mine, her entire body going still in my arms. I know who he’s talking about, but I need him to confirm it. I need to hear the words.

“Your daughter.”

Thirty-Two: Once More, With Feeling

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