I’m bone-deep exhausted. I hunt out Cassie and find her, fast asleep on the sofa, the wine glass still half full and on the floor next to her. I pick it up, drink the wine, and then place the glass on the table. I pick her up, and cradling her in my arms, I climb the stairs with a call to Alexei, who is on first shift, to get me if any issues occur no matter how small.
At the landing, I pause. I should take her to her room and put her bed. I ought to, but I don’t. I go to my room and close the door behind us. She still hasn’t woken, and I think she must be in the mother of all adrenaline crashes.
Gently, I place her on the bed as I get undressed. I head into my bathroom, turn the shower on, and step under the hot, punishing spray. I let it wash me clean, or as clean as it can. It can’t wash away the grime my life is coated in.
Cassie doesn’t fit this life. She’s a shiny, golden, gorgeous jewel amongst rotten lumps of coal, but I can’t let her go. I need that shine she gives out. It’s as if she warms me deep inside where there’s only dead cold.
Stepping out of the shower, I towel myself off and pad into the bedroom where I pull on a clean pair of boxer-briefs.
My phone beeps with a message. I pick it up. It’s from Damen.
We need to talk. I’d suggest you come here, but I doubt you want to right now, and I get that. I can’t come to you. Not safe.
Maya’s been at me to take her back to Paris for ages.
The Armenians don’t have much of a presence in Paris. They aren’t going to be a threat to us there if we meet at a hotel. Busy, city center location. Is as safe as it gets.
Neutral territory, too, for us to talk? What do you say?
I fire back a response.
Agree re Paris. Good location. Come to my house though. Armed development, very central, high police and security presence. Will be safe. I insist on hosting. Maya will love it, and we can get to talk.
Three dots appear, disappear and then, deal, pops up on my screen.
I stare down at Cassie for a long moment. I’d love to show her my home in Paris. I imagine how impressed she’ll be with it, and smile to myself. I could also do with Damen looking at the security there for me and making sure it’s top notch the way the Brits have here for me.
I brush Cassie’s hair back from her face.
She needs a shower. They cleaned her in the hospital, and washed and dried her hair for her, but she needs a shower. She won’t feel clean until she does, but I can’t bear to wake her. Instead, I leave her clothed and on top of the sheets. I pull her to the top of the bed where I wrap my arms around her, curling around her slight body as if I can protect her from the horror and the hurt she’s going to feel when she wakes.
After a day like today, I should only be feeling sorrow, dread, and terror of what’s to come, but with Cassie in my arms, I feel something else. Something I’m entirely unused to. I feel content.
I close my eyes and hold her tight.
Chapter Six
Cassie
My eyes blink two or three times before I fully open them. My head hurts, my mouth is dry, and my body aches as if I’ve run a marathon.
Then it hits me. Yesterday. Oh God, yesterday.
It’s like a lead balloon inflating in my stomach, filling me with heavy dread. The sounds Liza made, the image of her face… I struggle for air and need to move, but there’s something heavy around me. I struggle for real then, kicking with my legs and pushing with my arms.
The heavy cage moves, and I’m free. I bolt out of bed and run, but where? I stop, still trying to catch my breath and rush to the window. There’s a dresser in front of it, and I put my palm on the wood as my other hand presses to my chest. I look out at the green grass of the garden and tell myself I’m safe. I’m not in that room anymore.