Page 107 of Golden Burn

My heart stutters, the beats out of sync. It’s fucking killing me not having her by my side, not knowing if she’s safe and warm.

God fucking damn it.

I should have told her I loved her. I should have said thewords.

But I didn’t want to. I wanted to show her. I wanted to get the date of the morning we woke up as husband and wife tattooed on my wrist. I wanted to get down on my knees and beg her to forgive me for the way I acted when we first met. I wanted to thank her for loving me back to life.

Stop.

Stop thinking she’s dead.

What happened to Gen will not happen to Etta.

The journey into the port of Mykonos is one slow, painful second after the other. I’m bursting out of my skin by the time I step foot on solid ground, my nervous system at boiling point.

Instantly, I’m scanning the crowd.

There’s medical personnel, police vehicles and a whole swarm of onlookers and families comforting their loved ones.

My wife is nowhere in sight.

I keep searching, grabbing strangers with short black hair and spinning them around. The combination of bright flashing lights and the deep dark sky is ruining my sight. My teeth grind so hard in my jaw they go numb as the minutes stretch on and Etta still remains missing.

Dom finds me first. I almost lose it when Ford strides over alone a second later.

Where is she?

“Etta?” I call, not caring that I’m shouting in people’s ears, looking like a maniac. “Etta!”

Dom and Ford join me in calling out my wifes name.

I’m fucking livid. Practically pulling out my hair when my call keeps coming back silent.

A void opens up in my chest. I can’t breathe.

“She’s gone,” I say, my voice cracking.

“We haven’t checked the hospital yet,” Dom says. “She might be waiting with the woman you mentioned.”

“He’s taken her.”

Ford flicks his head to me, his brow crinkled in doubt. “What? Cerbera did this? No, no fucking way. You can’t know that.”

Up ahead, I spot the woman with the children being attended to by a paramedic.

I rush to her, my legs propelling me across the gap. Ford and Dom are close on my heels.

The woman’s eyes widen when I reach her. She flings her arms out to protect her children. Doesn’t she remember I was the man that helped her? I must look so frenzied, so crazed that she doesn’t recognize me.

“Where is she?” I ask. No, I beg.

The woman shakes her head. “She knew the driver. I saw them together.”

“Knew the driver of the boat?” Ford repeats.

“What did he look like?” I demand.

“I—I don’t know.”

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