Page 7 of Possessive

"Then you're owed a few birthday presents," Gianni said. "Five of them. You must be twenty-three. I really, really hate Kurt Lasalle right now."

My head was spinning so fast I had to let him help me the rest of the way up the steps.

I'd missed out on five years of my life. What else had I missed out on?

CHAPTER 3

MINA

Gianni lowered his hands from me when we reached the top of the stairs. He stayed close while we moved through the house, his whole body on alert.

Upstairs was a different world from the basement. Hardwood floors and expensive-looking furniture. Art on the walls. Hooks for them, anyway. Several paintings lay on the floor as if they'd been pulled down and left in a hurry.

Reuben's doing, I presumed. What was he looking for here? Not me. That was obvious from the shock when he first saw me. Had they found what they'd come here for?

The answer became evident when another man met us at the door. He was taller than Reuben and Gianni, with lighter hair and a tighter expression.

"Nothing, boss," he said briskly. "If Lasalle was doing what we were told he was doing, he's not doing it from here." His gaze slid to me. His eyebrows knitted and his mouth drew back.

Reuben nodded. "We'll find something in the other locations. I want everyone to keep looking." He stepped out the front door, toward a dark coloured sedan which was parked at the curb. "And Damon, tell them I want Kurt Lasalle alive."

"On it, boss." Damon took out his phone and sent off a quick text before making his way to the driver's seat.

I stopped at the threshold and recoiled from the glare. From the look of the light, it was late afternoon, but it was a brighter light than I'd seen in years. With the exception of the torches on their phones. Those were brief, this was overwhelming.

I wiped tears from my eyes.

"Boss," Gianni called out.

Reuben opened the passenger door and reached inside. When he stepped back towards the house, he held out his hand to me.

I had to blink a couple of times to realise he held pair of sunglasses.

I took them, opened the arms and slid them onto my face. They were much too big for me, but they filtered the worst of the sunlight.

"Thank you." That was something I hadn't said in a long time. Something I hadn't had a reason to say.

"We've spent enough time here," was Reuben's inpatient reply before he returned to the car and slipped inside.

That was an understatement.

I followed Gianni to the car and climbed inside, grateful for the tinted windows, comfortable seat and carpet under my bare feet. This felt like luxury after the cramped, filthy cage.

Gianni got in on the other side and sat far enough away to give me space, but close enough that I couldn't ignore his presence.

I felt like an injured bird he'd found on the side of the road and put into a cardboard box to nurse back to life. Just like me and my brother Asher did when we were kids. Our eldest brother, Dane, always told us we were wasting our time, but sometimes the animals lived. Usually with the help of our sister, Rose. She always seemed to know the right things to do.

"I'd ask if you're okay, but we both know the answer," Gianni said, his voice low to keep the conversation between him and me. "You will be."

The look I gave him should have conveyed my scepticism. How can I possibly, ever be okay? Did I deserve to be?

I clicked my seatbelt and curled my legs up on the seat beside me. I carefully arranged the jacket to cover as much of me as possible. For a piece of fabric, it felt like armour between me and the world. Like somehow I could hide behind it. It wasn't about modesty so much as it was about having a wall around me, however flimsy.

Damon glanced over his shoulder, frowned briefly, but put the car in drive and headed into the city traffic.

Pressed down as low as I could get, I watched flashes of the city go past. Nothing I recognised. Either everything had changed, or I wasn't familiar with the area to start with.

Whatever it was, I could have been on an alien planet. Other cars, other people, nothing felt real. Life had gone on without me. People had continued to live theirs while mine was on pause.

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