Get the baby. Grab a few diapers. And get the fuck out of here. The rest we can worry about later.
Pushing the handle down, I storm into the room, more than ready to put some old bitch flat on her ass, but I get hit with the worst kind of déjà vu—racing into the room only to find an empty crib.
“No,” I breathe, my eyes wide as I look around the room, my sharp gaze flicking from corner to corner. Where the fuck is he?
“The baby is gone, girl.”
I spin on my heels and my hands immediately go up to defend myself. An older lady hovers in the doorway, her eyes narrowed and unsure. There’s something familiar about her, and as she takes a hesitant step into the room, I realize that this was one of the many staff who worked down in the castle kitchen, caring for the boys over the past ten years—seen and not heard. She’s not here to hurt me, but who knows what kind of orders she’s under.
I swallow hard and slowly lower my hands, unsure of what she plans to do. “Where is he?” I snap, standing to my tallest height despite the older woman towering over me.
She watches me with sharp eyes from years of watching her back around Giovanni’s sons, always terrified that they may snap at any moment. Hell, the kind of guests they invited over would be enough to scar anybody. “Master took him for a drive thirty minutes ago,” she says, eyeing me warily as she slowly walks deeper into the room. “You will not be able to get your hands on that child,” she adds as though she can read every thought pouring through my head. “He is heavily guarded, all hours of the day. It is unclear when Master shall return. So, if you are going to run, now is your only chance. He believes you to be … indisposed for another few hours.”
My eyes widen, but before I can get a word out, she moves out of the doorway. “Go now, child.”
My gaze falls back to the empty crib, my heart breaking with the thought of leaving him behind. “I—”
“Don’t be foolish, girl,” she seethes. “Forget the baby. You cannot save him. Go before he …”
I read her unsaid words loud and clear.
Go before he rapes you again.
Shame settles over me once more, realizing that every last person in this fucked-up castle knows exactly what happened in that room, but I push it aside. She’s right. If that baby is with Giovanni right now, I don’t stand a fucking chance. I have to come back for him, and I’ll do it with a fucking army at my back, until then—it’s time to get my boys.
14
My hands shake as I take off out of the nursery, bypassing the older lady. I’d do anything to be able to stop and thank her or somehow offer some type of freedom from this hellhole, but all I can manage is a quick smile before I whiz past her. The determination to get my boys the fuck out of here is the only thing keeping me going.
My eyes dart from left to right, forward and backward with every step I take, knowing all too quickly how fast one of Giovanni’s men could catch me making a break for it. Nerves pulse through my body, and I wish that I were stronger, that I had regained all of my strength after those drugs completely fucked with my system, but beggars can’t be choosers. Had I waited until I was feeling like myself, I might have missed this chance completely.
Fuck, I just need to get to Marcus, need to know he’s doing alright. Roman and Levi are strong, they would have been able to push through the last … shit. I don’t even know how long it’s been. All I know is that any amount of time could be too much for Marcus. He needs to get help, and he needed it days ago.
Hitting the stairs, I bring myself to a standstill, listening for any noises below and forcing myself to calm down. My pulse is drumming so fucking loud in my ears that it’s almost impossible to hear, but I won’t be fucking this up.
Taking slow, calming breaths, I briefly close my eyes and concentrate, the way the boys had taught me to do that first night we visited the home Roman built, the very home we burned to the ground.
There’s soft chatter coming from the opposite direction in the castle, maybe guards discussing shift rotation while shuffling papers. There’s a clanging of pots and pans, maybe even the soft murmurings of the kitchen staff as well, but more importantly, the foyer at the bottom of the staircase and the areas around it are free.
Taking a breath, I start to move, keeping a quick pace as that clear path could change at a moment’s notice. My feet hit the floor and it's all I can do not to shout out in success before I hook around to the left and make my way through the grand ballroom to the door that leads down to the castle cells.
I don’t have the best memory of being down in those cells, and I’m sure that I’m probably going to see some things down there, but I remember the boys telling me about a passage down there that leads to the underground playground. Not wanting to risk being in the castle and out in the open any longer, I push through the door and trail down the big concrete steps before coming to a stop in front of the heavy medieval-looking door.
I hate this fucking thing. I could never get it open when it mattered the most. It’s heavy as fuck, but I’ll stand before it all fucking day, clawing at it until my bones break to get where I’m going.
Gripping on to the big iron handle, I pull hard, clenching my jaw and using all my body weight. Shit, if I weren’t so fucking thin right now, maybe my body weight might actually do the trick, but it seems I’m left with nothing but pure muscle strength.
Fuck.
I keep trying until my forehead is coated in a sheer layer of sweat when it finally budges. Tears sting my eyes as exhaustion threatens to claim me, but I push hard, determined to get this fucker open enough to slip through. I try and try again, biting down to avoid screaming at the stupid thing, moving it inch by inch until I can finally slip my hand through the gap.
A chill blows through the air and sails straight down my spine, remembering how the boys would torture me with white noise and the sounds of the metal cell doors opening and slamming once again, but then those images are quickly replaced with ones of Marcus holding chains.
Slipping my hand through the small gap, I use it to push against the door, and as I tug on it one more time, it finally inches enough for my body to slip through the gap. I don’t hold back.
My feet pound against the concrete floor, flying past all the cells. I don’t dare look up, terrified of what I might see … or who I might see. I have no idea where I’m going, but I spent one awful night racing through here and I use everything I know of these passageways to lead me deeper.
It takes four wrong turns until I finally break out into the open space where I stood all those months ago, determining which path to take. That night, I went straight ahead and that led me into a small room where Roman was waiting for me. He knocked me out with barely a moment’s notice, but it was enough time to realize that’s not where I need to go.