“What can be worse than my daughter being beaten so badly she has lost her memories?” I seethe, rounding on her again.
Tyjae releases her hold on my arm and takes a step back.
“She was pregnant, it must’ve been before she was brought here. I was able to overhear some of the conversation and they mentioned she was about nine weeks along. Elio told Malia he aborted it, but she miscarried in the trauma of the attack.”
Every inch of my mind, body, and soul shatters and blows away in the wind. I had imagined a hell for my daughter, but nothing to this extent.
31
Liam
Gunshotsringoutaroundthe estate as our attack is put into motion. Oren and Griffin move to take out the men guarding the front door, while I shove my foot into the common weak spot and bust it open. Nathaniel was called back by the woman, but we aren’t stopping.
It ends now.
We rush the door and are immediately met with four armed guards charging toward us. Their bodies hit the ground just as more men filter into the entryway. The air fills with smoke and gunfire comes from every direction. We push through the guards, taking them down as we move forward.
The nice thing about having a weapons dealer for a godfather is the majority of us are armed to the fucking teeth. When the rest of Nathaniel’s men landed, they brought a whole arsenal with them.
Griffin takes point while Oren and I cover the back, letting him act as our guide. We come to a stop at the bookshelf the woman mentioned, and Griffin’s hand easily closes around the book that unlocks the door.
The gunshots have died down within the mansion, mostly echoing toward us from outside. My heart hammers in my chest with the need to see her. The door moves just enough for one of us to fit. I shove past Oren and Griffin and squeeze through the opening, the door not opening nearly fast enough for my impatient heart.
Oren curses behind me as I barrel down the steps with the other two men close behind. Our boots crash down each step, the noise echoing off the stone walls of the underground prison we’re descending into.
“Elio!” I hear Malia yell, followed by the sounds of metal bars banging.
Her raspy voice is nearly lost to the pounding of our feet as we rush to get to her.
“Let me out!” she yells, making me nearly slip down the rest of the way from the relief of hearing her voice.
We reach the bottom and I take off in a sprint toward the direction of the thrashing metal. My long legs eat up the ground, my arms pump desperately as I try to reach her faster. Not a single person is down here to stop us from getting to Malia. Elio must’ve stuck her down here and taken off.
The momentum of my run has me sliding along the stone ground as I try to come to a stop when I reach her cell. My heart stops as I stare at the woman I’ve been aching for for the past four months. Griffin goes for the door and my knees nearly buckle when it swings open, and he steps back.
I can only stare at her for a few moments, worried that, if I move forward, she will slowly disappear as I get closer. My vision blurs as my eyes dry from refusing to blink. Oren steps into my side and nudges me forward as Malia and I just stare at each other.
At first, my steps are slow, wary that this is all some fucked-up dream and I’m still asleep on the plane. But as my Little Warrior remains solid and in the same spot, my steps become faster until I cross the threshold and yank her into me.
“You’re safe, baby. We’re going to take you home,” I say, cupping her cheeks and pressing my forehead to hers. “God, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
My thumbs sweep unsteadily across Malia’s cheeks, finding the patience to hear her speak again, but eager to see those emerald eyes up close, looking at me from her face and not her father’s.
“Malia,” I whisper, pulling back to get a better look at her. “Please look at me.”
Slowly, she raises her gaze to mine, and I nearly jolt back from the emptiness I see in her eyes. She takes a trembling breath and moves to step back. My hands fall from her face and grip onto her shirt, not willing to let her walk away from me.
Her head tilts slightly as she looks up at me, confusion pulling her brows together. What the fuck happened to her?
Malia’s hands are gripping onto the lapels of my leather jacket, but her body is clearly trying to move away. Like she’s at war within herself whether to fall into my arms or run the fuck away.
“I’ve seen you before,” she finally says. “In a memory, but I thought it was a dream, I—“ she shakes her head and frowns at me. “I don’t remember anything else.”
There’s an audible crack as my heart splits in two and I stumble back, this time I’m confused. I use the distance between us to take her in fully.
Malia is dressed in black leggings, with an oversized sweater that falls off her shoulders, and a turtle neck tank top underneath. Every inch of her is covered save for her bare shoulders, face, and hands.
There’s fear in her body language. Her hands are close to her body for comfort and she’s suddenly unrecognizable to me.