Page 29 of Blossom in Shadows

The words rang in my head, and I lowered my weapon. Sergio didn’t sigh in relief, he met my eyes and held them, showing me his loyalty and the man he is. I had to respect it. He put his life in my hands and trusted me to make the right decision.

Within an hour we were on the road and heading to Boston.

Now it’s been twelve hours since I got the call, and I still don’t have my woman in my arms. Declan is looking at me like he’s worried I might detonate and he’s not far from the truth. I feel the time ticking, ticking, ticking away. It feels like a countdown and I’m not sure what will happen when the time runs out.

I haven’t slept. I haven’t eaten a fucking thing. I can’t.

Not until I know if she’s alive. Not until I have her in my arms.

Lorenzo tries to hand me a bottle of water, but I glare at him and then look at Sergio whose own rage filled eyes are as hopeless as mine. Luca, Tazio and Constantino wanted to come with me, but I needed them to stay at home. I needed men I trust to also be scouring the city looking for my queen.

Just in case.

In case I was wrong, and O’Brien didn’t go to ground where he felt most comfortable. I don’t think I am though. There is a tug in my gut, something telling me I’m on the right track, but patience has never been a strong suit of mine and right now it is wearing thin.

When Declan’s phone rings, I’m on my feet and staring at the man as he turns and answers. “Are you sure?” He glances at me and snarls into the phone, “You better be fucking sure, I have one pissed off man who is about to set the entire city on fire to find his woman.”

He gives a curt nod and hangs up. His eyes light up with the thrill of imminent death and I immediately check my weapons. I’m strapped with two holsters on my chest and one at my ankle. Sergio and Lorenzo check their weapons as well without a word.

I know what the look in Declan’s eyes means. They found him.

If only I could breathe. I can’t. Not yet.

What if…I push the thought aside, a wounded sound coming from my throat. Sergio and Lorenzo close ranks around me, both searching my face and watching me break. There is no judgement in their eyes.

They both understand for different reasons.

“She’s strong, Boss,” Sergio’s voice is a whisper, but filled with strength.

“She’s your queen, she will fight until we can get to her,” Lorenzo affirms.

I close my eyes and when I open them, I meet Declan’s gaze and give a nod. The ride to wherever that fucking thieving cockroach is hiding out is silent other than Declan giving me a general overview of the house.

“If it were me, I’d have her either upstairs or in the basement. Lorenzo, you go upstairs with Declan. Sergio, you’re with me in the basement.” They are the only words I speak, and I barely get them past the lump in my throat.

Dread is the only thing inside of me. It’s something I haven’t felt in so long and I almost can’t identify it at first.

When we get to the rundown house in a shitty part of the city, I glare at the house and feel that tug in my gut. She’s in there. But what state will I find her in?

We park around the corner and climb out of Declan’s vehicle. His men surround the house and give a signal when they’re in place. The moment I turn the corner, my eyes lock onto the house and my vision tunnels.

I don’t stop as I walk straight to the front door and slam my foot into it. It splinters, the sound loud in the room, but I’m already looking for the basement door knowing everyone else will do what they need to do. That tug is back, urging me on and I give into the instinct to follow it.

As I descend the basement stairs, I turn the corner and find another door. The moment it swings open, my heart fucking shatters. Patrick O’Brien is standing there, a sadistic smile on his face and one arm wrapped around the waist of my woman. Her clothing is in tatters, looking like it’s been sliced while blood runs down her limbs and covers her torso. His other hand is holding a knife covered in her blood against her neck.

I meet my woman’s brown eyes, filled with relief and trust. I don’t deserve it. I fucking don’t.

If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t even be here right now. She mouths, ‘Don’t, it’s not your fault’, as if she can read my fucking mind. I latch onto the trust in her eyes and look at O’Brien.

“Elio Agosti,” he sneers, “looks like the tables have turned, huh?”

My tone is even and cold, “When was the last time you went to church?”

My question seems to catch him off guard and he falters for a second before snarling, “What does that have to do with anything?”

I feel Sergio at my back, and I slide to the side to let him in the room. He knows O’Brien is mine and he won’t interfere. The man who is taking his last breaths, whether he realizes it or not, tries to shift to keep Sergio and me in his line of sight.

He thinks he has the upper hand. He doesn’t. Zinnia takes a deep breath, and my eyes travel over her again, this time noticing the shackle around her ankle.

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