“Savannah?”
“Still upstairs. Neither of them have come down yet.”
He groans and throws his arm over his eyes. A few minutes later, Zayn comes out with a full pot of coffee and three mugs. I chuckle, finding as much humor in it as I can at the moment.
“You’re such a good little housewife.”
The corners of his mouth raise. “Fuck off.”
We all get a cup, letting the caffeine save our sanity. The three of us stay quiet, but it’s clear the same thing is on all our minds. What happens now? I wish I knew.
“I take it we don’t have training with Jackson today?”
I snort. “Nothing gets by you, does it, Pretty Boy?”
Zayn must be able to sense that I’m using sarcasm to cover up the fact that I’m internally freaking out, because he tosses me his pack of cigarettes. “We’ll figure something out. I just think we should wait for the princesses to wake up. You do one more thing behind their backs, they’ll kill you both.”
The two of us chuckle, knowing he has a point. Meanwhile, I peek out the window and look for any sign of someone knowing where we are. I’m just about to sigh in relief when a noise comes from above us and the next thing I know, Delaney and Savannah are rushing down the stairs. Laney has a look on her face that I’ve never seen before. It’s more than fear—it’s pure, unadulterated terror.
“Delaney?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
She looks as she’s about to cry. “Uncle Dom. He ha...he has Tessa.”
“He what?” The three of us shout in unison.
Laney starts to hyperventilate, breaking down right in front of my face. It’s my worst nightmare—her being in a situation that I can’t fix right away. Tessa is strong, a wild little savage, but she’s no match for Cal. Especially not when she trusts him like a niece should be able to trust her uncle.
I lunge over the couch to get to her. As soon as I’m close enough, I scoop her into my arms. Her head rests against my chest as the panic attack obliterates every inch of her body. Savannah seems shaken up, but in much better shape than Delaney. Still, Grayson pulls her close as soon as he can, tucking her against his side.
“Delaney, breathe,” I try, but she’s in physical pain and grasping at her chest. “Listen to me. I need you to follow my breathing. Okay? Breathe with me.”
I start to take slow, deep breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth. If it wasn’t for my mom having these sometimes, I probably would have no idea what to do—but thankfully, I have some experience. After a few moments, her breathing starts to calm and her body relaxes a bit.
“Listen to me. We’re going to save Tess, okay?” She looks into my eyes and nods. “Now, I need you to tell me exactly what he said.”
Just as she tries to answer, she breaks down again. I look to Savannah in hopes that she heard it, too.
“He said that you two need to go to The Underground by noon and not to try anything.” Grayson and I nod and stand up in an instant, but just as we head for the door, she stops us. “Not you and Grayson. You and Delaney.”
It immediately feels like I got hit with a truck. “No.”
“Knox.” Zayn goes to grab my arm but I pull it away.
“No! Fuck no!” I shout. “I’m not putting her in danger like that. No fucking way.”
My best friend puts his hands on my shoulders. “You have to. Do you hear me? You. Have. To.” He glances at Delaney, who looks as if her whole world is crumbling. “God knows what he’ll do if you don’t.”
It hurts, knowing he’s right and wishing like hell he wasn’t. There’s only one thing worse than seeing Laney the way she looks right now, and that’s putting her in a room with that man again. I can only imagine what he has planned, especially after last night. But I know that if something happens to Tessa, she’ll never be the same.
I exhale, walking over to Delaney and crouching down in front of her. “What do you say, Bambi?” I put my hand out, and she looks at it for a second. Finally, she puts her hand in mine and I help her up. “That’s my girl.”
AFTER ALMOST AN HOUR of Grayson and I teaching Delaney all the self-defense moves we can, the two of us get in the car and start heading toward The Underground. She stays quiet for the most part, but I can see her shaking. I reach over and put comforting hand on her knee.
“Can I ask you something?” she questions when we’re less than two miles away.
“Anything.”
Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she hesitates—as if she’s afraid of the answer. “When you broke up with me…”