“I’m already dead!” Her voice echoes around the room while her words hit me straight in the chest. “Don’t you get that? The funeral you went to may as well have been real!”
I’m out of my seat and shaking my head. “Don’t say that.”
“Why? Because you know it’s true?” She’s taunting me, and I feel my ire rising to the surface. “I don’t want to live anymore! I don’t want to live knowing my baby died!”
Maybe it’s the fear, or the bottled up emotions when it comes to the pregnancy, but it all explodes inside of me. My restraint snaps as my fist clenches at my side.
“Our baby!” I roar. “Our baby died! I lost that baby too!”
She rolls her eyes and looks away as I get closer. “Right, and I’m sure you’re so broken up about it.”
I cage her in against the wall and slam my fist next to her head. “Don’t. Don’t do that. It’s fucking killing me inside.”
“Says the guy who got a vasectomy at eighteen years old because he didn’t want to have kids.”
It’s a dig, and one I expected, but it still hits its target as I crack a little more.
“I don’t!” I shout. “Or at least I didn’t, until…”
“Until what?” Putting her hands on my chest, she uses all her strength to push me away. “Spit it out!”
“Until you!” My words make her flinch. “Until I found out that having a family with you was a fucking possibility.” She huffs and shakes her head, focusing her attention on the floor. “But I guess that’s dead, too, with the way you can barely even look at me.”
Finally, her eyes meet mine, and the pain I see in them threatens to break my cold, black heart. Saxon is one of the strongest women I know, and to see her in such mental anguish—it’s devastating.
“I don’t look at you because it hurts.” Her voice trembles as the walls she has put up to keep everyone out start to crumble. “Because every time I see you, every time I look into your eyes…”
A sob rips through her, followed by another one, making her unable to finish the sentence, but she doesn’t need to. I get it. For the first time since she woke up, I fucking get it.
I wrap my arms around her as she breaks down completely, letting out all of the agony she’s been holding inside. Tears flow from her eyes, and she pulls at everything she can. Her hair, my suit, her shirt, my neck. It’s destroying her. Ripping her apart until there’s nothing left, and all I can do is hold her through it.
Rubbing my hand up and down her back, I feel myself enduring the same pain she is as I whisper that I’ve got her. That she’s going to be okay. And I pray to a God I don’t believe in, that what I’m saying is true.
MY BACK RESTS AGAINST the wall, with Saxon lying on the floor. Her head is in my lap as I run my fingers through her hair. It took a while for her to get through the breakdown that tore through her body like a tornado, but we got her there. Together.
She looks up at me with a tired look on her face, and a hint of a smile seeps through. “I got to meet him, you know. Our baby.”
“You did?”
She nods. “I think it was when I was in surgery. The first one.”
A million things run through my mind at once, including the sickening realization that I almost lost her, but I smile softly back at her. “Tell me about him.”
And she does. For hours we lie there, talking about how he had my eyes and her smile, and imagining what our life would have been like with a miniature us running around and wreaking havoc on the world. She talks about him with such love and passion that I start to see sparks of the girl I thought I lost forever. And when we both fall asleep right there on the floor of my office, I dream of the little boy with Saxon’s dimples.
Screams fill the room, bouncing off the walls and sounding like music to my ears. A Bratva hangs his head, with his wrists and ankles cuffed to the wall in front of me. He’s at my mercy and he fucking knows it.
“Tell me where she is,” I demand.
Blood drips from the wound as he groans in pain. “I told you. I don’t know who you’re talking about, but even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
Dropping my knife, I clench my fist and punch him as hard as I can across the face. “Wrong fucking answer, shithead.”
We managed to grab this Bratva scumbag outside of the gym Viola was at the day Saxon was shot. I had Roman and Cesari running surveillance on it to see if Viola showed her face again. She’s not entirely stupid, but she is vain. But while there were no signs of Viola, this prick was seen hanging around as if he was waiting for someone. When he finally went to leave, Cesari grabbed him.
“I already know she switched sides,” I sneer in his face. “Just tell me where she is, and I won’t pull your fucking teeth out and make you swallow them.”
He spits blood at my feet. “Fuck you, Italian scum.”
I chuckle, always finding it comical when they act tough despite being nothing but weak little bitches. Walking over to the thick chain that sits in a pile on the ground, I pick it up and fold it in half, holding it tightly in my hand.
“I suggest you tell me where she is, or you’re about to feel pain that’ll make everything before this feel like a tickle.”
His throat bobs with a heavy swallow as he stares at the chain. “I swear to God, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“I don’t fucking buy it,” I say as I whip the chain across his side. “Where is she?”
He roars in pain, taking a minute to catch his breath. “Fuck!”
“Come on.” I press. “Give up the little bitch and the pain stops. It’s as simple as that.” He doesn’t say anything so I whip him again. “I’ve got nothing better to do. I can make this last all fucking day.”
As I lift the chain again, he breaks. “Okay, okay.” He pauses to take a few breaths. “Describe her for me. They’ve all got their bitches.”
“Thin. Brown hair. Wealthy. Stuck up princess with boundary issues.”
He scoffs. “Oh, yeah. That narrows it down to about half of Manhattan.”
“Fucking prick! She goes to the gym you were seen hanging around!” What little patience I have is wearing thin and fast. “She shot and killed the daughter of Dalton Forbes on his orders.”
A smile makes its way to his face. “Ah, you mean Forbes’s bitch. The one hanging on his arm all the damn time.”
My eyes widen. “Dalton is fucking Viola?”
“If that’s her name, sure,” he says carelessly. “I’m not close with him. I’ve just seen those two together a lot.”
The thought of Viola sleeping with Dalton is vomit inducing. Dalton has done far worse shit, so the fact that he’s having an affair doesn’t surprise me. What does shock me, however, is the fact that it’s with Viola. If Raff finds out, he’s going to be livid. And I’m going to make sure he does.
“Ok, now we’re getting somewhere,” I say, dropping the chain on the ground. “So, where is a place she would hide out?”