Page 28 of Corrupted Union

“Get some rest, Ro.”

“’Kay, talk to you later.” I hung up, my mind racing.

If Stetson and his father would both be out of the house, I could get a message to the girl. Hannah would still be on duty until five. She could let me in, and I could run a message upstairs and be back out in five minutes flat—something translated into Russian to let her know we were going to get her out of there. Keir didn’t want me around the Wellingtons, but I never promised to stay away from the girl. One quick trip inside. After that, I would feel I’d done what I could to reassure her, and everything else could be done from a distance.

“Oh hello, Rowan,”Hannah greeted me at the door. “I’m afraid Stetson isn’t here right now.”

“I know. I wasn’t able to make his game this evening, and he mentioned staying here tonight, so I thought I’d drop a little surprise off for him. Hopefully make up for missing his game.” I gave her a bashful smile.

Hannah had to be closing in on sixty. She wore her hair in a tidy bob cut and kept the house running seamlessly in her white button-down and navy slacks starched to the point of standing on their own. She saw it as her personal mission to mother hen the Wellington men, so I was counting on her being sympathetic to the plight of an errant girlfriend who had fallen behind on her duty to support her boyfriend.

“Of course, sweetie. Though, I can’t say what condition his rooms are in.”

“No worries. I heard you weren’t cleaning that part of the house. I say it’s good for Stetson. Some things are life skills everyone should have,” I said conspiratorially.

Hannah winked. “You said it, not me.” She closed the door behind me once I was inside.

“I’ll just drop this in his room and let myself out.”

“All right, dear. Holler if you need me.”

“Thanks, Hannah.”

She smiled warmly and headed back toward the kitchen. I bolted up the stairs. Instead of turning right toward Stetson’s room, I hooked to my left and hurried up the small second floor stairwell to the third floor.

Hands trembling, I used the key to unlock the deadbolt and opened the door. My lungs seized at the sight of the girl huddled in her corner with a small blanket around her. From what I could tell, the floral dress was gone.

Outrage burned the back of my throat. The injustice of it all threatened to take my legs out from under me—that she was being forced to endure such inhumanities, and that I was forced to let it happen. I’d never felt such crippling anger in my entire life.

The helplessness, however, was familiar, and I hated it.

The girl jumped to her feet at the sight of me. Her face lifted with desperate hope that this was the escape she’d been praying for. That this time, I was here to save her.

I suddenly questioned whether my return would do more harm than good because now I had to crush her hope all over again. “I’m so sorry,” I pleaded, extending the small piece of paper I’d prepared for her.

I’d translated a message into Russian explaining that the man holding her is very powerful and that we were working on freeing her soon. As her eyes scanned the words, her trembling intensified until I didn’t know how she could possibly see the words.

“I’m … I’m so sorry.” My voice failed me. All I had was a wisp of breath that managed to squeeze past my heart lodged in my throat.

The paper drifted to the floor, two heavy tears from her cheeks following after it.

“So, so sorry,” I continued to murmur as I picked up the paper and stuffed it in my pocket.

Regret engulfed me with enough fiery shame that I felt as though my skin was burning from the inside. How dare I let this girl’s suffering go on when I could free her? Had I been brave enough, I could have brought bolt cutters and gotten her out of the damn house. I could have gone into hiding—better that than know I was the reason she was still trapped in hell.

Ro, please don’t do this. It’s not your fault.

Maybe not initially, but the fact she’s still here is on my shoulders.

Was there still time? Maybe I could find something that would cut the chain in the garage. I had to save her. I had to at least try.

I clasped her hands in mine and explained I’d be right back. She seemed to understand my sudden urgency, her face lifting warily to study mine. I gave her hands one last squeeze and rushed out the door, not wasting time to lock it behind me.

I hurried down to the second floor and had one foot on the main stairs before I realized I wasn’t alone. My entire body froze—heart and lungs and internal organs all suspended in time—as I registered that Lawrence Wellington was walking up the stairs with another man. A man with a gnarled scar stretching from his left temple to the corner of his mouth and frigid eyes so light blue, they looked bionic.

A hailstorm of questions rained down in my mind. Why was he here? Who was the scarred man? Were they going for the girl? Had they seen that I’d come from the wrong direction? Even if they hadn’t, if they went to her room, they’d surely notice that the door had been left unlocked.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit, Ro. You need to get your ass out of here now.

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