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My heart is trembling.
Tears blur my vision.
I try him again.
The call goes to voicemail.
My legs weaken.
Cheeks soaking wet.
I try again.
Call goes to voicemail.
Lungs suffocating.
Voice lost.
I try.
Goes to voicemail.
Breaking.
Hopeless.
Again.
Voicemail.
A fissure starts in my heart, spreads through my chest, torso, spiderwebbing across my entire body. One little touch, another cruel stroke, and I’ll shatter into a million pieces. As my knees knock together and I sink to the floor, a heavy sob is forced out of my body, hot and wet and painful, sorrow I can taste on my lips, feel in my face. Tears that come unbidden and unrelenting.
No. No. No. Not again. No. They can’t hurt him. I love him. I rub my aching heart, shaking my head. I can’t lose him.
He can’t die too.
Not after everything.
Not when we were finally happy.
Something heavy settles in my throat.
The weight crushing, the pressure building in my chest and lungs, the heat of it burning inside of me, everything compounding until it all comes out in a piercing scream. A sound that rips the last of my faith straight out of my chest.A cry stealing hope and happiness. A rage which sets fire to my blood. A chest-deep, ragged, angry, grieving, feralscream.
The front door bangs open and suddenly Tony is there, dropping to his knees in front of me. The edges of his form blur. His hands clamp around my face, and it’s only then I realize I was rocking back and forth, his hold forcing me to stop. “What happened?”
“Mace—” His name is a gut punch. I clutch at Tony’s forearms, digging my nails into his skin. “They have him, Tony.”
“Who, Cassia? What are you talking about? Someone has Mace? Where?”
“He’s—” Time suspends. My mind falls quiet, and for a moment, I lose sight of Tony as the pieces shift around in my mind, sense fighting for control in the moment of clarity. The report. The address.He’ll swim with the fishes once the deal is done.
There’s still time. He’s not gone, not yet. Panic creeps upon me, and I fight to keep it down. I force a breath, filling my lungs. He’s not gone. I know where he is.
“Cassia? Talk to me. What’s going on?”
I cannot. Will not. Lose Mace. I will fight the fucking world to get him back, because if I lose him, I’m not sure I’ll survive it. The adrenaline pouring through my veins changes directions, a hard turn toward hyper-focus, the world around me focusing beyond 20/20.