Page 3 of Cruel Redemption

“Amara?” I spun around the room, searching for the door to the outside. The balcony with the gorgeous view of the sunset. But when I opened it, it was raining. Thunder crackled overhead.

I passed through and slammed my hands on the railing. There was a storm raging on the ocean. I peered over the boardwalk and made out the silhouette of a sailboat. Damn it. Was she on the ship? If I could run to the small strip of beach, I could catch her in time. Why she chose now to sail I didn’t know, but I had to pull her back. I had to get her off the sailboat. I defied physics and leapt over the second story deck. There was a loud crunch and excruciating pain that sprung from my ankle to my knee. I doubled over, grabbing the side of my foot.

Then I awakened. My eyes would blink open. I would gasp for air as I lunged forward in bed. That damn dream would stay with me until it haunted me again.

* * *

It had been close to ten minutes since Amara had stepped into the elevator to retrieve Enzo. Was the key stuck? Had she misplaced it when she dressed hastily?

Maybe they were discussing Katya, but it didn’t make sense.

I called her, waiting for her voice to tell me to have more patience. She would be up shortly. It would be just like her to want to handle it on her own. She wasn’t used to having someone she could trust step in and handle everything for her.

I glowered at the phone. I didn’t expect it to go straight to voicemail.

It was in that moment. During that one second I gasped for air. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Something was fucking wrong.

I barreled past the construction cones and roped off areas of loose sheetrock. I hit the elevator button repeatedly. My heart hammered in my chest. As soon as the doors opened, I ran inside, pressing the lower level as many times as I could. It didn’t make things happen faster. Nothing was fast enough. The doors moved in slow motion. Everything felt like fucking slow motion.

The heavy growl of the carriage made me rethink taking the elevator. I debated whether it would be faster to charge down the stairs, but the offices were on the top floor.

As soon as I landed on the first floor, I pried the doors and squeezed through. I ran through the lobby, bursting through the revolving carousel. The sun blared overhead. I searched the sidewalk, looking right and then left for Amara. I scanned the curb for where she had pointed out Enzo’s car. The street was empty surrounding the car. There was no one in sight.

Not Enzo. Not Amara.

I had made a lot of promises. Some I had kept well. Others I had offered, knowing they were lies. None of them mattered as much as this one. I promised to keep her safe. I promised her with everything I had she would be safe with me. Protected to the ends of the Earth. That no one would touch her. No one could take her away and hide her in the darkness.

I had looked in her eyes. I had held her and spoken the words to her. Instead I had committed the ultimate betrayal. My betrayal. It had cost me everything.

Fuck.

Time didn’t want to move as I stood on the sidewalk. It felt as if there was thick oil pushing through my veins, instead of blood. My head pounded. My ears rang. Amara was gone. As the seconds ticked away, I didn’t know how to bring her back.

Fuck. I had to stop the paralysis taking over my body. I was fucking Bratva. I needed my training as a soldier, not as the Pahkan. I had been a lethal weapon since my father sent me to France with Mikhail. We were brothers bonded in killing, maiming, defense, and attack. No one had been a better soldier than me. I’d never been defeated at the castle. My name was still etched on the highest stone in the basement fighting pit.

Amara needed a soldier. I was her soldier. Her protector.

I peered along the sidewalk and slowly approached Enzo’s car. I stooped to survey the tire marks, touching my fingertips along the abrasion on the road. They were new. It had happened here only moments ago.

A car turned the corner, and I waved an Uber driver to stop.

He only cracked the window a few inches. “You have to order,” he explained, pointing to the small logo resting on his dashboard.

“I don’t want a ride,” I growled. “Have you seen a woman walking nearby in a suit? Pink? In the last few minutes, anyone near this building?” I withdrew cash from my wallet. His eyes widened when he saw the gun tucked beneath my suit jacket.

He shook his head. “No. No, sir.”

I pressed my lips together. “Go.” I tapped the top of the car, dismissing him quickly. The fewer people in the area, the better.

I retreated to their last known spot and jerked open the car door to see if Enzo or Amara had left anything behind when I heard the steady clip-clop of horses’ hooves. I turned and halted a man in a top hat, carrying a carriage full of tourists on a guided tour through New Orleans.

“Stop. Stop!” I raised my hands, pulling on the bit of the horse. “Have you seen a woman? Maybe hurt? Maybe running?”

The couple in the carriage scooted closer together.

“No. Now let go of my horse.” The tour guide drew a whip next to his hip and I was quick to retract my hold on the animal. The wheels began to turn, and he continued the sight-seeing tour as if it were a beautiful day, untouched by darkness.

Fuck. I shook my head and staggered away. My shirt clung to my chest, and the jacket suffocated me, but I chose the direction opposite of the tire track’s direction and began to move quickly.

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