Smoke (The Carelli Family Saga #1) - Eden Butler Page 0,54

fight when I tugged her away from the door to the alcove at the back of the hallway. “Look at me,” I told her when I spotted her eyes going glassy and wet again.

But her attention was on that open door and whatever shit she’d invented was behind it.

“Bella, fucking look at me now.”

“To hell with that…”

I should have known better. There was nothing stronger, nothing scarier than a mother worried about her kid. She didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. She charged forward, slipping away from me before I could stop her, seeming single-minded as she moved through the door.

I could only get in soon enough to pull out my piece and flank her as she darted into the apartment.

The place was dark when we entered. The lamp on the end table next to the sofa was overturned and blinking. Maggie’s low curse caught in her throat when she spotted Vivian on the floor knocked out.

My chest burned. My stomach knotted up like I’d been jabbed hard with a body shot.

The baby wasn’t in this room. My gaze roamed around everywhere—under the tables, near Vi on the floor, to the sofa and love seat, by the window, but the kid was missing.

A thousand fucking images, each one worse than the next, ran through my head. I loosened my grip on my gun and I had to stop. Vi lay still, but her chest was moving, steady and even. Bending down to move the pillow partially covering her face, I glanced at her and spotted a knot on the side of her head. He’d punched her square on the cheek and she must have hit the coffee table, causing the bump her head. She was out cold but still breathing.

Maggie dropped to her knees next to her friend and felt her neck, her shoulders lowering when she glanced at me. “She’s breathing.”

Tears ran thick and heavy down her cheeks.

I reached to wipe them dry but stopped when she shook her head. “Please… Just…don't touch me right now. I need my baby. I need to find him.”

I stood, understanding her desperation, and offered her my hand before we went back to the search, upturning furniture, moving into the bathroom, then Vi’s room before we separated, and I made it into Maggie’s room, finding nothing before going into Mateo’s room.

From the hallway, I heard Maggie’s low, soft voice and made out the constant refrain of Dios te salve, María, llena eres de gracia, el Señor es contigo, recognizing the Hail Mary and the desperate pleading in her voice. She begged the Virgin for help and though it had been years since I uttered the same prayer, I mimicked it, doing a little praying of my own.

There was a small toddler bed, the same one Dante had described building for the kid when I asked if he’d checked in on them for me. Mateo’s blankets were still warm when I touched them. A nearly full sippy cup was in the center of the mattress. That asshole hadn’t even bothered to grab it for him. Sitting on the bed, I bent forward, my elbows on my legs as I tried to get my shit together before I went back in there to disappoint Maggie again.

That kid didn’t deserve this shit.

He had to be scared, being carted off by some asshole he didn’t know.

Fuck, what if that bastard was high or drunk?

Shit.

What if he didn’t even bother with a car seat or…if he wrecked.

Christ, my stomach was rotten.

I felt sick, like I’d spew right in the middle of the sweet bed that smelled Maggie’s hair and the lotion she always rubbed on the baby’s face when the wind blew too hard outside.

“Dimitri?” I heard, jerking my attention at the door, finding Maggie there, her face flushed, her eyes searching as she moved into the room. She glanced at my empty hands, then at my face.

I stood, turning away, wiping my wet eyes, feeling useless.

“No,” she said, her voice loud, sharp.

I reached for her, trying to bring her out of this room, trying to get her free from anything that reminded her of her baby and the fact that he wasn’t here, but she pushed me away, slapping my hand from her arms. “Don’t…I…”

Then, Maggie unleashed, toppling the crib, upturning the toys and frames that rested along the dresser. This anger was hers and I guessed it was tied up in the worry and anxiety she’d kept to herself for over a year. She never let anyone see