Page 27 of The Pawn

Fuck.

Fuck!

“I’m here now, babygirl. I’m here. I’m going to take youhome now. I’m going to take you home and I’m going to fix everything,” I promise although I’m unsure I can fix anything at all.

Wrapping one arm around her, I pick up the old rag she was cradling her hand in and register the new blood with the old. I shove it into my pocket, that twisting in my chest expanding into my gut and morphing into regret then fury. I pick up the ring and push it into my pocket.

“Shh, babygirl. I’m going to take you home now.” I slide my other arm under her knees. She just cradles her bloody hand, staring at it again, in shock or worse. Or maybe she’s reliving the hell she survived five years ago. The work her father began. The work Malek Lombardi continued.

I rise slowly, careful to be gentle with her. I ignore the screaming pain in my shoulder.

“Soldiers?” I ask, not looking away from her, but registering the quiet. The gunfire has stopped.

“Dead. There were half a dozen. You’re shot, Cassian,” Jet says.

“Flesh would.” I grit my teeth against the pain.

“Doesn’t look like a flesh wound.”

“Yeah, well she lost a finger, so that takes fucking priority, doesn’t it?” I snap, angry. Furious. Furious at myself. At Malek. At this fucking world.

Allegra begins her whimpering in my arms.

“Shh, Little Moth.” She looks up at me and I imagine she looked a lot like this five years ago. A child lost, now a woman lost. “I’m going to take you home now. No one is going to hurt you ever again.”

Her gaze moves to something beyond me. I follow it to a small table beyond. On that table is what looks to be an old,stained butcher’s block. Wedged in that block is the butcher’s knife.

I move so she can’t see them, the objects of her torture.

She’s trembling in my arms, but she tries to say something. To form words she is incapable of forming.

“Mmmm.” She licks her lips and tries again. “Mmm… My m…” those tears begin again, and I cup the back of her head and pull her to me, pressing her face into my chest, holding her even as my shoulder and arm throb with pain.

“Shh, babygirl. I have you. You’re safe now. I have you. Shh.”

I search the space. I’m looking for her finger. If I’m not too late, maybe we can save it. If I’m not too late. But it’s not here.

When footsteps sound on the stairs, she presses into me, squeezing her eyes shut.

Jet looks over his shoulder and quickly strips off his shirt to cover her.

I accept it.

When the first soldier comes into view, his flashlight shines on us. He pauses when he sees me holding her. Sees the state of her.

“Sir.” He shifts his gaze to me. “They’re all dead. All but one.”

I nod. “Keep him alive. I need him to talk. The cars?”

“Mostly destroyed. Couple are drivable. I’ve already called in for more.”

“Good.” I look at Jet. “I want those things.” I gesture to the block and knife.

He nods. “I’ll take care of it. Get her out of here.”

“Search the house. I want anything that’s his. Anything.And keep soldiers here, off the property, but here. There’s an opening at the back too where the coward ran?—”

Jet puts a hand on my shoulder. “Go. Get her home. I got this.”