Five hours and no word from Bastien. My phone stays dark, and he won’t answer my calls. I don’t know if he’s injured or dead. I want to tear through the streets looking for him, but it’s not safe. I’m supposed to sit here, shut up, and wait.

I’m losing my mind.

I’ve had five hours to sort through my tangled feelings. There was so much panic at Madison’s house that Bastien’s last words didn’t sink in until now.

He loves me.

No one’s ever said that to me and meant it. Bastien always puts me first. When my dad screamed for him to pursue the bikers, he ignored the order and ran straight toward me. The marriage might’ve been a sham, but he saved me from the life I never wanted. I’m relieved he’s a cop, and I feel guilty because of it. I don’t think I could’ve ever had feelings for him if he made his living with violence.

My throat chokes at the thought of something happening to him. Joy will cease to exist. I’ll fade away. Nothing will ever be the same and I’ll never forgive myself for not saying it back.

I love you, too.

Dani sucks in a breath as she watches the TV screen mounted on the wall. A bandage wraps around her skinny arm, her cherub face frozen in an expression of shock. She was only grazed by a bullet, but Louis had to sweet talk her into refusing to cooperate with the police. Even though her cut was disinfected and stitched hours ago, Louis refused to let us leave. He sits in the chair next to Dani’s, leaning over to murmur something. She gives him a weak smile.

Too bad he can’t whisper nice things in Madison’s ear. Loud sobs wrack through the hospital as she cries. The lobby doesn’t offer much privacy, and well-meaning people approach her with kind words she ignores. There’s nothing to say that’ll make it better. Her house was shot up by a group of thugs. No one died, but her son was in the home. It was a very near miss.

I can’t squeeze air through my lungs. I hold it tight in my chest until it burns, and it doesn’t help that the TV provides a nonstop stream of terrifying updates. A man was found shot to death three miles from the drive-by. Several mob-owned businesses were torched. News vans parked outside Madison’s home pan over the destruction. Police and fire departments are stretched thin responding to all the incidents.

My mouth goes dry as I take it in.

This was planned. God knows how long they’ve been preparing for an attack on both families. It’s revenge, the organized crime expert says, for the massacre of Les Diables several years prior. My eyes burn with fury. What does any of that have to do with me? Don’t they understand we want nothing to do with this shit?

I grab my phone and swipe it open. It’s blank. I dial his number and his voice booms through the speaker. A flood of joy crashes over me until I realize it’s his fucking voicemail. It went straight to the box. Either his cell is out of juice, or someone turned it off.

My heart stops.

What if he can’t answer?

He could be disabled, screaming in pain on a stretcher, or dead. The air leaves my chest as I curl my fists. My eyes sting with the image of him facedown on a table. A dark hole in the back of his head, just like Marc. Bastien said he loved me. A golf ball rises in my throat. I bite my fist as tears streak down my cheeks.

I can’t take this anymore.

He wouldn’t wait this long to call me. Something’s happened.

I stand up in front of Louis, arms crossed. “Where is he?”

“I have no idea,” he says in his low voice. “Honestly.”

“Don’t give me that crap. He took off after Henri. They were heading in the same direction. Louis, please. He could be hurt, and I can’t get ahold of him.”

Louis pinches the bridge of his nose. “He’s not—”

“Then why won’t he answer his phone?”

“He’s in a goddamn meeting, all right?” He shakes his head. “Don’t ask me where.”

A mob get-together while we’re stuck in the hospital? “Excuse me?”

He looks uncomfortable. “It’s need to know only.”

“His pregnant fucking wife needs to know!”

“Fuck,” he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “I really shouldn’t, but it’s been a few hours.”

I grab the arms of his chair. “Tell me where he is, or I’ll scream.”

“It was at your father’s auto shop,” he bursts. “They’re probably all gone by now. Seb could be anywhere.”

There’s only one my dad ever brought our cars to. “I’ll need your keys.”

“Hell no. My orders were simple—stay at the hospital. If your father found out I let you drive around his territory while there’s a war, I’d never see the light of day.”

Beside him, Dani’s eyes go round as saucers. “What?”

“Then tell him I overpowered you!”

He laughs, the sound cutting into me.

Fuck it. I don’t need him. I’ll call an Uber.

“Nice meeting you, Dani.” I smile at the poor, confused girl. “Hope things get better.”

Then I turn my back on them and sprint toward the exit. Louis’ angry shout follows me. “Hey, wait!”

He sprints after me like a bat out of hell. I throw the doors behind me so they catch on his injured arm. He swears. It probably hurts like a bitch. Too bad.

I run the white halls. Why do they all look the damn same? Louis tears after me, and I utter a scream of frustration when he grabs my shirt.

“What the fuck?” he snarls.

“Let me go, or I’ll cause a scene.”

“I’m not doing this because I want to! Your dad has your best interests at heart, damn it. There’s a war out there, and we’re single targets.”

“I won’t leave him to die. Something is wrong.” I glance at the entrance of the hospital, where there’s a guard posted. “I’ll yell for help in five seconds.”

“Don’t do it.”

“Five.”

He yanks me down the hall. “Eva!”

“Four—”

I stumble free as Louis releases me, furious. “You want a death wish—fine.”

“I’ll tell him I ran out on you when I said I was going to the bathroom. You have my word.”

He glowers at me. “That will not be good enough if you get yourself killed.”

A chill runs down my back like a cold finger thumbing my spine. I head outside, opening my phone to order a cab. Fear eats at my insides.

Please be there.

If he’s not—I don’t know what I’ll do. Dad’s ignoring my calls, but I assumed he’s probably in the thick of things. Short of driving around Montreal and checking the gutters for his body, I’m out of ideas.

The car rolls to the curb and I slide inside, avoiding small talk with the driver as he whisks us away. Nausea swirls in my stomach as the disturbing images on TV flash through my head.

I didn’t want this to happen. I told myself I wouldn’t get involved with my emotions. This is why I was supposed to distance myself, but he’s not one of them. He can give me a better life. He promised he would, and like an idiot, I believed him because of our baby. Bastien loves me, and I believe him. I can’t help the glow in my chest when my wedding ring catches the light.

The car pulls onto a darkened street. I recognize the blazing white sign as he stops.

“This is it? Looks closed.”

“Yes, thank you.” I open the door and flinch when I step onto the empty parking lot.

No one’s here.

The cab drives away and terror suffocates my lungs. “Sébastien!” I march toward the office, slamming my fist into the glass. “Open up!”

My heart beats a violent tattoo against my chest, waiting for a shadow to move on the wall, a cough, something. Tears slide down my cheeks as I bash the glass. “If you’re there, let me in! Open the door, you bastards!”

There’s no one inside. I don’t know what to do. I’ll scour every street to find him because I can’t stand the thought of never listening to him laugh again. If he’s gone—if I have to raise this baby on my own—

God, I have to find him. I scream his name as I walk around the garage, and then I pull out my cell. I call him. Voicemail again. I phone Dad. Voicemail.

I want to hurl this useless thing into the street, but then I stab a text message to my father:

I’m at your auto-repair shop, and I can’t find Sébastien. Where is he? I’m worried sick.

My phone vibrates with a call. I answer it, holding the speaker to my ear. “Dad?”

“What are you doing out there?” he barks. “I told Louis to keep you at the hospital.”

“I got tired of waiting and tricked him.”

“Eva,” he moans. “Why don’t you listen to me?”

“I’m in the dark! You never tell me what’s going on, and I can’t get ahold of my husband. Dad, I need to know where he is.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Please.”

“Sweetie,” he says in a heavy voice. “Sébastien’s not coming back.”