Page 134 of Ravaged Soul

To my surprise, she replies relatively quickly. Willow isn’t usually super responsive. Running their sprawling refuge deep in the Welsh mountains while raising children keeps her hands full.

Willow: We watched the press release on the news. Ethan’s been on the phone with Warner for an hour. You alright?

I chew on the inside of my cheek, weighing how honest to be.

Hyland: No. Don’t know how this will all end.

Willow: If you need a place to escape, you know there’s always a home for you here. All of you.

I lower my phone to study Ember and Luke when they both burst out in giggles at something on the screen. Luke’s now laying half-sprawled over her while Ember absently fiddles with his golden hair.

In less than a year, she’s barged into our lives and made herself the fucking centre of our entire universe. Even if it wasn’t deliberate. As long as Ember’s threatened, none of us are safe. Nor is our family unit.

Gael isn’t above dangling a young, innocent girl in front of us to get what he wants. There isn’t a level he won’t stoop to. With our focus shifting to Europe, the threats will only multiply, and there’s Madden’s deranged father to consider too.

We’re surrounded by enemies.

It feels like they’re inching ever closer.

I want peace and justice, not just for Ember, but for all the victims still out there. Of course, I want to give her closure too. She deserves it more than anyone. Perhaps more than she even realises. But I will not jeopardise what we’ve found in each other to do so.

Malignant wasps swarm inside my skeleton with each letter that I type, allowing me to consider the possibility of failure. Up until now, I’ve refused to give power to the notion.

Hyland: If things go south, I’ll take you up on that.

Willow: Good. We always keep each other safe.

My mouth dries up as unsettling fear takes root.

Hyland: Always.

CHAPTER 19

EMBER

REDEMPTION – JEVON

Smack.Smack. Smack.

My feet beat a rhythmic pattern on London’s cracked concrete. Even in our illustrious neighbourhood, weeds and potholes run riot. It’s the one recognisable feature you’ll find across the entirety of the UK.

It took a lot of convincing to get Hyland to loosely follow my jog in his company car. The overbearing grump didn’t want to let me out to exercise, let alone in peace. But after a few days’ rest, I’ve gotten my strength back.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

During that time, the news coverage in response to Sabre’s press release has been relentless. After six years with no results, many had labelled Gracie’s disappearance as a cold case. Now that it’s been reignited, the criticism is flooding in fast.

Autumn leaves paint the road as I dodge past distracted commuters drinking in the crisp November air. In all this unruly chaos, it dawns on me that next month will be my first Christmas at home. The first time I’ve celebrated the holidays in years, in fact.

Nobody knows what will happen between now and then. From the meagre information that Blaine has received from hiscontacts so far, we have a vast search radius spanning from Estonia to Belarus. Gracie could be anywhere.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Gael got those images from somewhere. He paid off whatever person or criminal organisation purchased Gracie years ago. All to taunt me, to unhinge me, to reassert his power. The message is simple and unchanged.

Return or pay the price.

Like we haven’t already paid dearly.