I didn’t want to leave Lucy alone, but I knew Grigori might’ve been the only chance to finally get to the bottom of the mystery. I had to go.

I left my sleeping beauty safe in my bed, tucking her in with the covers snugly. I didn’t really want to go. My whole body demanded I stay behind… But Bryant had finally found Grigori. The man that held all the answers. I needed to get to the bottom of Charli’s disappearance. Lucy would never forgive me if I let this breakthrough slip through my fingers.

Locking the door twice, I took the elevator down to the parking lot just as my phone beeped with a text. Bryant had sent me the address where Grigori was supposed to be. It was a shitty neighborhood, one where I didn’t really want to go to without backup. But I didn’t have a choice.

I set off driving, and twenty minutes of nervousness later, finally arrived at my destination. My heart was pounding as I pulled onto the driveway of a trailer park. It was the middle of the night, and the neighborhood was silent. I was grateful for that, at least.

I switched my phone to silent, and as I got out of the car, I reached for the gun at my side. At least this time, I’d come prepared.

I walked up to the silent trailer and a feeling of horror took over my body so intensely I had to hold onto the side of it. Something bad had happened in there. If my feeling wasn’t enough, I knew it was bad by the stench that was coming out of the trailer. It smelled like rotten, dead bodies.

My stomach tightened in knots as I approached the entrance. I knocked twice. No answer.

“I’m coming in,” I shouted, and rammed my shoulder against the door.

The wood gave way slowly, and it only took three tries to burst inside the trailer.

I was greeted by darkness and a smell so putrid I groaned and raised my shirt over my face so I wouldn’t retch.

There was a chair in the middle of the room. The rest of it was empty, no sign of any furniture or of anyone living in the trailer. A man sat on the chair, his body slumped and facing away from me. I knew I wasn’t going to find anything good. Judging by the stink in the room and the number of flies, I knew he was dead.

I rounded the corner and almost puked when I saw the state of him.

A plaque hung around his neck, words written on it in his own blood.

Grigori Meshki.

Traitor.

He was well and truly gone, his head barely hanging onto his body, dried blood leaking from the hole in his throat. It had been a while since Grigori had died.

I stumbled out of the house and the sound of sirens greeted me.

With a shaky hand, I checked my phone.

Seven missed calls from Bryant, and a text that told me what I already knew.

It’s a trap, get the fuck out of there!

My legs worked as fast as they possibly could. I felt like I was stunned, in a fucking daze as I ran towards my car. My fingers wouldn’t work and I had to ram my keys into the ignition several times before I finally managed to start it. The tires roared against gravel as I drove out of there, the sirens of a police car slowly fading out as I raced back to my apartment.

A trap. Of course it was a fucking trap. To get me caught, to blame me for what happened to Grigori. And I’d left Lucy alone in my fucking home.

My blood chilled in my veins as I realized why the trap had been set.

They didn’t just want me to be blamed for Grigori’s murder.

They wanted to get Lucy alone.

I stepped on the gas and drove faster than ever before.

I left the car in the garage, not even parking it properly and jumping out of it, racing to the elevator and jamming my finger into the button for my floor. The elevator was slow as fuck and my nerves were shot as I waited. Images of Lucy filled my head. Sweet, sexy little Lucy who tried so fucking hard to be strong. Snarky, bitchy Lucy who made my life a mess and sorted it out at the same time. My Lucy, my girl. She couldn’t be gone. She would still be in my bed, sleeping soundly as ever. She would be okay. I would make sure of it.

The sight that greeted me on my floor sent chills through my body.

The front door was open.

The door I’d locked with so much care was ajar, and I stumbled into my own home sick with fear.

I heard him the second I got in there, and heard my girl’s muffled cries, too.

I walked into the bedroom, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. The only light in the room was coming from the streetlamp outside, and the room was illuminated in grotesque lighting that made the man standing in front of Lucy look even more foreboding.

My girl was shivering on the bed, holding her knees tightly against her chest, her bottom lip quivering as a man held her at gunpoint.

“Uts’kho,” he laughed. “Glad you could finally join us.”

Sandro.

He turned to face me and I had to hold back a scream when I saw his face.

It was burnt horribly, and not even treated. Flaps of skin hung from his ruined face and I could have sworn I still smelled the burning flesh in the room. His skin was blackened by the fire, his flesh exposed and raw. He looked like a monster, and he laughed like a psychopath.

“Get a good look,” he told me bitterly. “Because you fucking did this to me! You and your whore, and her damn sister.”

“Charli,” Lucy breathed, her eyes connecting with mine so very desperately. “Where is my sister?”

“She’s fucking gone,” Sandro spat out bitterly. “When are you going to fucking accept that?”

He waved his gun around and I used the momentary lapse to slowly reach for my own at my side. From what I could see, Lucy looked like she was in one piece – one shivering, frightened as fuck piece as the crazy man held a gun to her temples.

“She’s not dead,” she whispered. “She can’t be. I would know.”

“She’s fucking gone,” Sandro snarled. “And you better fucking accept it. If you don’t want to end up like…”

“Grigori?” I cut in, and Sandro shot me an enraged look.

“The fucking traitor,” he spat out. “This is all his fucking fault!”

He took the gun and spun the cylinder, laughing maniacally as he pointed it at Lucy’s head once again.

“Let’s play Russian Roulette again,” he said in a crazed voice. “Maybe you’ll get lucky again, little bitch.”

Lucy whimpered as he aimed at her head, but I was never going to let him hurt her. She was my girl. No one was going to hurt her ever again. Not on my fucking watch.

I lunged for the man threatening my girl, and my hand connected with his throat. He fired an empty shot, and I struggled to bring him to the ground, aiming my gun at him.

“You’re fucking done,” I told him, the stench of his fucked-up skin properly hitting my nostrils and making me want to be sick. “You’re fucking dead, get your hands behind your back. I’m going to fucking kill you.”

He knocked the gun out of my hand, he struggled so much, and it flew across the room. We both lunged for it, and I fought him with everything I had. Adrenaline must’ve been rushing through Sandro’s body, because despite the fact that he was practically burnt to a crisp, he struggled and tried his fucking best to overpower me.

But there was another person in the room we weren’t counting on.

My babydoll.

She reached the gun before either of us did, and her fingers wrapped around it as she raised it towards us. Her hands shook as she pointed it in our direction, and for a split second, I wasn’t sure who she would shoot at. We were standing so close together, and both Sandro and I froze as she pointed the gun.

“Bitch,” Sandro spat out. “You’ll never fucking fire.”

Her hands shook and she looked at me for support. I gave her a brief smile, and she pointed the gun back at Sandro. My whole body sagged with relief I didn’t even understand.

“Where is she?” she bit out. “My sister. Where is my sister?”

“I don’t have your answers,” Sandro said. “She’s gone, though. And you have to accept that. You can never get her back. You need to understand that.”

“Is she dead?” Lucy asked in a shaky, scared little voice, and Sandro opened his mouth to speak.

Shots rang out in the apartment, and we all dropped to the ground.

My heart thumped in my chest as I heard loud, booming voices, and I used the last of my strength to crawl towards my girl and shield her body with mine. I covered her, protecting her from getting shot at, and I held my position until they dragged me off her. My eyes were wild and my heart was hammering in my chest, my gaze still on Lucy as someone wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and spoke to her in a sweet, comforting voice.

Sandro’s body lay motionless on the ground, a pool of blood spreading on the floor around him.

“It’s all over now,” a woman in a police uniform told me gently, but all I could do in response was growl and push the offered blanket away, getting to Lucy.

I checked if she was okay – no bullet wounds, nothing to harm her. She was in one piece, and her eyes stared ahead as I held her tightly.

The apartment was filled with noise and people, police officers outlining the shape of Sandro’s burnt body on the ground. I held my girl as she was questioned, as we finally regaled the whole story of the Georgians and explained everything we knew had gone down. It took hours, and when they told us we’d have to go to the police station as well, I fucking lost it. I told them to get the fuck out and let me take care of my girl, and reluctantly, they left. We’d told our story. Now it was time for them to do their work.

I called a cab for us and took my girl to a hotel where I owned a room. I didn’t rest until she was tucked firmly into bed, her eyes slowly closing before she drifted off to sleep.

It had gone down so fast. Everything happened in a matter of moments, the most important day of my life. And there was only one thing on my mind, only one thing left to do.

My phone rang, and I picked it up when I saw it was Bryant calling. I filled him in on the events of the night and he sighed deeply when I was finally done explaining everything.

“What about Charli?” I asked him roughly. “Do you have any leads on her?”

A long silence followed, and he finally answered as my heart threatened to jump out of my chest.

“She’s gone, Beau.”

* * *

I watched Lucy get ready a few days later, sitting at the vanity in the hotel room.

We’d made the best of the situation, and one thing I’d come to realize was that it didn’t matter where we were, it would be home if my girl was with me.

She put her makeup on slowly, her eyes darting to meet mine in the vanity mirror.

“What?” she asked with a giggle, applying color to her lips.

Her lipstick was the same shade of red as the blood we’d spilled a few nights ago.

“Nothing,” I said, getting up and planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’m happy I’m with you, babydoll.”

She turned to face me, and I kneeled down in front of her, taking her hands in mine. She looked right into my eyes.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked her gently, and she gave me a non-committal shrug. “Words, babydoll. I need your words.”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied in a shaky voice.

But I wasn’t so sure that was true.

Her sister was gone for good, and Lucy never got the opportunity to make things right with her. I planned on a memorial service for Charli, a grave with no body, just so Lucy could visit her from time to time and hopefully get over the gap her sister dying had left in her life.

“You will,” I promised my girl, and she gave me a weak little smile.

I groaned before going on.

“Lucy,” I said. “This is hard for me. This is something I’ve never said out loud.”

“W-what is it?” she stuttered.

I reached into the breast pocket of my blazer without saying a word, and presented her with a small velvet box. Her hand flew to her mouth as she watched me, and I gave her a smile as I popped the box open. My mother’s engagement ring glistened in the sunlight coming through the window, the sapphire set in a silver band with diamonds surrounding the beautiful blue stone.

“Lucienne Rousseau,” I said, and she cried out from the overwhelming emotions. “Will you be my wife? I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nobody but you.”

“But…” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. “This makes no sense, it’s so soon and…”

“It makes sense,” I told her softly. “It made sense the second I first saw you, Lucy. And I’ve never said this out loud…”

Her eyes connected with mine and I struggled to keep my emotions at bay.

“I love you,” I said.