Page 171 of Cashmere Ruin

Somehow, the thought isn’t all that comforting.

I grab the bars with both hands and start tugging. It’s useless—they’re too heavy—but the mama bear in me won’t hear it. I keep trying to pry the ugly things off the ground, screaming my lungs off in the process. “WHERE’S MY DAUGHTER?”

“Ma! Ma!”

I stop.

May.I’d recognize her voice anywhere. “Who’s there?” I snarl. “Show yourself!”

Then I see her.

But she isn’t alone. There’s a man holding her, and as he steps out of the shadows, I give a huge sigh of relief. My baby’s docile in his arms, the tiniest frown on her little face from the distress in my tone. But otherwise, she looks perfectly content where she is. And why wouldn’t she be?

After all, she’s in her uncle’s arms.

“Yuri.” It’s such a familiar sight that, for a second, the prison bars disappear. Like we’re back at the motel in Jersey. “What’s going on?”

But something’s wrong. Not just with the situation—withhim.

Yuri’s face is dark, guarded. Miles away from the honest young man I’ve come to know. “April. How are you feeling?”

I don’t like the way he asks me that. Like he knows way more than I do about how we ended up here, and why. Normally, that would be a weight off my shoulders, but every single piece of this puzzle feels crooked.

Like it doesn’t really fit with the picture in my mind.

Like it’s a part of a different picture entirely.

“How am I feeling?” I echo. I blink in disbelief. “I’m in a cell. I woke up on the floor. How do you think I’m feeling?”

He grimaces. “Yeah. Sorry. That must’ve been uncomfortable.”

“Uncomf—” I stop and collect myself before I try again. “Yuri, what the hell? What is this? Why am I in here? And why are you holding my kid overthere?”

“Here,” a second man says, stepping out of the shadows. “I’ll take her.”

I freeze.

That voice.

The first time I heard it, I was in my motel room. The second time, I was in a cabin. Now, I have no idea where I am.

But ifhe’shere, it can’t be anywhere good.

“Carmine,” I hiss.

A hand descends on Yuri’s shoulder. His eyes widen, a spark of irritation flaring in the dark. For a fraction of a second, it looks like he might bite the whole thing off.

But then Yuri swallows, just once, and obediently hands over my daughter to the devil himself. “Careful. She doesn’t like strangers.”

“Strangers?” the man chuckles. “My, my, you wound me. We actually have a lot in common, this little one and I. After all, am I not her grandpa?”

“Get your hands off of her.”

He finally looks at me. “April,” he greets with a polite, everyday smile. “Are you quite sure? Because I can do that, but then she’ll fall.”

Then, with the most natural shrug in the world, he starts to loosen his grip.

“NO!” I scream.

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