Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters #3)(92)

I cross to him and hug him, wrapping my arms around his back and burying my face in his chest. My words are muffled by his shirt. “When we get back, will you promise to talk to me?”

He draws a deep, slow breath. When he exhales, he whispers, “I promise.”

I don’t understand why it sounds so anguished.





The drive into town is spent in silence so loud, it’s deafening. I sit right beside Mal, gripping his hand, shooting an occasional worried glance at his profile.

It’s as hard as granite. He’s unreachable, retreating somewhere inside his head where he obviously doesn’t want me to follow.

I know this new distance has to do with his call with Pakhan.

Maybe Mal’s in trouble. Or maybe there’s something exceptionally dangerous he’s been tasked to do. The specifics don’t matter as much to me as why he won’t talk to me about it.

His silence is the terrifying part. He’s up in his head, playing with his monsters, and he won’t let me in.

We arrive at the grocer as they’re unlocking the doors. Mal parks the truck in front, shuts off the engine, and says, “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

“The hell I will,” I mutter, opening the passenger door. I jump out, slam the door behind me, and stand there waiting for him with my arms folded over my chest, scowling.

He stares at me through the windshield for a moment, then shakes his head and gets out.

Taking my arm, he leads me into the grocery store.

It’s small and charming, with a mom-and-pop feel. There’s a coffee bar on one side, across from the cash register, and a big display of veggies in round baskets up front. Other than us and the old lady turning the sign in the front window, the store is empty.

Mal greets the woman with a few words in Russian. She nods, smiling, and shuffles off toward the back of the store.

“I need to use the restroom. Stay out of trouble.”

He kisses me on the temple, inhaling against my skin for a moment and giving me a squeeze before pulling away abruptly and heading to the back of the store.

I watch him enter the men’s room and close the door, then I turn to the display of vegetables.

After a moment, an uncomfortable sensation raises all the hair on the back of my neck. Frowning, I look up and around, then suck in a shocked breath.

Dressed in black combat gear from head to toe, including the boots and bulletproof vest, Spider stands motionless beside the cash register, staring at me.

He looks terrible. Thinner, strung out, and wild eyed as a junkie. A ragged pink scar snakes two inches down his temple.

With a flash of horror so cold, it leaves me frozen, I realize what Mal’s done.

I breathe, “No.”

Spider jolts into motion at the same time I do. I don’t even make it out the door before he’s got me.

“Mal!” I scream, thrashing in Spider’s arms. “Mal! No! No! Don’t do this!”

Spider is saying something to me, speaking rapidly in a low voice as he drags me out the door, but I can’t pay attention to it, because I’m too busy screaming and trying to get away.

It’s useless. Thinner or not, Spider’s still far stronger than me. His arms are iron bars. I kick and twist, but he manages to wrestle me into the black van that’s idling at the curb, its side sliding door open. He pushes me in and slams the door closed.

I fall on it, panting and yanking, but it won’t open.

It’s locked.

On my hands and knees over the bare metal floor of the van, I scramble to the pair of swinging doors at the back. They’re locked, too.

Spider guns the engine. The van peels out, slamming me against the back window.

Mal steps out of the store.

He stands motionless, staring at me with anguished eyes as I scream his name over and over and pound my fists on the windows.

I’m still screaming long after he’s out of sight.





43





Declan





Breathing easier, I disconnect with Spider and turn to look at Sloane.

She stands still as a statue, her eyes searching my face. From the moment we got the call yesterday that Spider had located Riley and was going to get her, she hasn’t eaten, slept, or spoken a word. The only thing she’s done is wring her hands and pace.

I say softly, “He has her.”

She sinks to her knees on the carpet, covers her face in her hands, and breaks into tears.

I kneel beside her and hold her, rocking her silently in my arms.

When the worst of it is over and she’s sniffling, I murmur, “They’re in the air now. They’ll be here in about nine hours.”

“How is she? Did he say anything? Is she hurt?”

“She didn’t appear to be hurt.” I hesitate, not wanting to fan the flames. “But he did say she was hysterical.”

Sloane lifts her head and stares at me with watery red eyes. “Well, no wonder! After what she must’ve been through, she’s hysterical with relief, the poor baby! She’s dying to come home!”

That wasn’t exactly the way Spider put it, but I’ll hold off on that. I need to set eyes on Riley myself to judge her condition.

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

She says irritably, “I’ll sleep when she’s here. If I were to lie down now, I’d just stare at the ceiling.” She groans and covers her face with her hands again. “Oh, god. She hates me. She has to. It’s my fault all this happened in the first place.”