Page 79 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)
“If anyone shoots…” the masked soldier threatens. “If anyone so much as moves in our direction or attempts to follow us, I will kill the child.”
Then he presses the gun to Theo’s temple as the baby cries desperately.
“No!” Elyssa screams in a blood-curdling, heartbreaking wail. “God, please, no…! My baby… just give him back to me… please!”
She’s beside herself, her hands clawing out towards her son even as her legs buckle under the terror of losing him.
I have no choice but to stand and watch.
I watch them take the baby.
I’ve known pain in my life. The kind of biting pain that leaves you with its memory even years after you’ve healed. But in the wake of Elyssa’s cries, I realize I’ve known nothing of real agony.
Because it’s there…
It’s all right there in her face.
18
Elyssa
“No! No! No! Get the fuck off of me!”
My screams fall on deaf ears.
I slam my fist forward and manage to make contact with one of the guard’s faces. It doesn’t accomplish much. I’m pretty sure I’ve done more damage to my hand than I have done to his face.
“Restrain her,” someone orders.
I know it’s not Phoenix. He disappeared minutes after my son was taken. I remember screaming at his back. What I said to him, I don’t exactly remember.
Horrible things, probably. Unfair things. But right now, I don’t want to take any of them back.
Right now, what I want to do is throw more punches and swear and fight and do whatever I need to do to get my son returned to me.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me!”
But two different sets of arms lash out in unison and pin my limbs in place. Cuffs snap onto my wrists and I can feel something twist around my ankles as they’re forced together.
Then I’m hoisted onto someone’s shoulder and carried back into the smoking wreckage of the house.
The smoke makes things seem worse than they are, though. Aside from the rubble at the site of the explosion and the pockmarked scars where bullets chipped away at the floor and walls, most things are relatively intact.
Whichever faceless guard is holding me pants under his breath as he hauls me up the staircase. I close my eyes and try to swallow back the screams building in my throat.
When he sets me back down, I’m shocked to find that I’m back in my old room.
I shake my head, angry tears blurring my vision as my restraints are removed. The men who followed us here are giving me a wide berth, probably anticipating that I’ll try to attack one of them.
But I suddenly feel exhausted. Drained. My muscles are lead and my eyelids weigh a thousand pounds and if I never move again, it’ll still be too soon.
The men retreat warily. A second after the door closes, I hear the lock turn. And just like that, I’m all alone once again.
I’m still right here,Charity whispers.
“No, you’re not,” I whisper to the empty room. “You’re not here. I’m just speaking to myself. I’ve lost everyone.”
You’ll get Theo back.
