Page 93 of Callum

“She’s as safe as humanly possible,” JJ assures me, but his eyes stay on Rosalind. “She’s with the Grim Reaper.”

“What?” Rosalind rears back as if JJ slapped her. “No. That can’t be true.”

“Grim has been in the mountains for the last few years,” JJ settles into a parade rest, hands clasped behind his back and feet shoulder-width apart. His face never tips away from Rosalind, and I feel something tighten in my gut. “The more asking around I did, the more often I encountered someone who would say ‘they’. ‘They were in Leadville last week’. ‘They were at the stoke and poke yesterday.’ When I finally made my way around to Mirabella, I asked if she had seen ‘them’, and she confirmed it. Grim has been traveling with a child for the last three years.”

Grant growls something that sounds like “with my bare fucking hands”, but I ignore him in favor of watching Rosalind. She looks moments away from passing out. All color has drained from her face, and she’s swaying back and forth. I reach for her in case her knees give out, but she pushes my hands away.

“It’s her? You’re sure the child with Grim is our daughter?”

JJ nods, reaching for something in his pocket. When he pulls out his phone, I hear Rosalind suck in a breath. “I caught up to them in Creede. I don’t think Grim saw me, but I managed to take this.”

He holds the phone out to Rosalind, who takes it with shaking hands. The picture on the screen clearly shows a young girl with long red hair and soft blue eyes. She’s looking right at the camera, a quizzical expression wrinkling her tiny brow.

“Oh, my God.” Rosalind’s fingers press against the screen as if she might be able to touch our daughter’s cheek through the phone. She tips it toward me, pointing to the image as if I can’t already see it. “It’s her.”

“It is,” I agree, trying not to let my voice shake. It’s her. Our daughter is alive and living in the mountains with a vicious and manipulative murderer. I’m not sure she’s as safe as JJ seems to believe her to be.

“What, uh,” Rosalind hesitates, her eyes still glued to the phone screen. “What’s her name?”

Thankfully, JJ doesn’t comment on Rosalind not knowing the name of her daughter. “Violet.”

Rosalind sucks in a breath around the sob I hear threatening to break in her throat. As much as I want to sit and stare at the photo with her, I force myself to give her a moment, turning my attention to JJ. “How are you going to find them again?”

“I don’t need to.”

“What?” Rosalind snaps, finally tearing her gaze from the photo. I can see the tears welling against her eyelids, and I quickly wipe away the single droplet that escapes from the corner of her eye. “Why not?”

“Because,” the lower jaw on JJ’s mask drops just far enough for me to see the sharp smile spreading across his face. “The Grim Reaper is coming to Chandler.”

Grant snarls something unintelligible before he snaps at JJ. “When?”

“Within the week.”

“Why?”

“I took that picture while Grim was on the phone,” JJ points to Rosalind’s hands, where she’s still clutching his phone like it’s her only lifeline. “I overheard a bit of the conversation. There’s an issue with the GiGi’s that has gotten bad enough Grim is coming home to fix it.”

“Ginetta must be fucking things up with the RMF,” Grant snorts, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

No one disagrees with him, not even Rosalind, who is usually quick to jump to Ginetta’s defense. Finding out Ginetta lied to her about our daughter seems to have broken what remained of Rosalind’s loyalty to the leader of the GiGi’s. Right now, she looks ready to burn the entire organization to the ground.

“Let me do it.”

Five sets of eyes turn to Rosalind with varying levels of confusion. Grant is the only one who seems to understand what she’s talking about. “You’re sure?”

“I am.”

“No,” I snap, realizing what she’s suggesting. “We already agreed you’re not doing that.”

“We did not agree,” Rosalind growls, shoving my hand off her arm. “I’m doing this, Callum.”

“I’m not going to stand by and let you turn yourself over to people who want to kill you.”

“No, you’re not,” Grant agrees, cutting off whatever Rosalind’s retort was going to be. “You’re going to track her into the heart of this fucked up collaboration, and we’re going to raze it to the ground.”

Merrick scoffs, his surprise written in the harsh lift of his brows. “You think the GiGi’s would be dumb enough to take her straight to the RMF?”

“Yes,” Maddock replies, making JJ chuckle. Merrick rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree.

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