“Zoe first, maids later,” Talia offers from the back seat.
I look over my shoulder and smile. “Zoe is always first.”
The two-hour drive is tense and quiet. I answer calls and check in on different people. My main concern is Aris and Selene getting tipped off before we arrive. Soon, we’re creeping through a small town twenty minutes from the coast. The sun has risen and a few restaurants blink their signs offering hot breakfast, making my stomach growl.
Zoe first, coffee and bagels later.
“It’s up here,” Adrian says.
“I’ll go around front and you check the back,” I order to him.
“I’m going with you,” Talia says, trying her shit with me again.
I whip around and reach for her hand, pulling her close to me. With my eyes burning into hers, I kiss the back of her hand. “Not today.”
“But—”
“I need you safe inside the SUV ready to drive off. Understood, moró mou? If Adrian and I should get injured, I need to be able to pass Zoe off to you and you get the fuck out of here. Please, for once in your stubborn fucking life listen to me.” My words are spoken harshly to her, but I can’t keep my wits about me if she’s behind me. No fucking way. I need to be able to act without question.
Fat tears well in Talia’s blue eyes, but she nods, sending them loose from her lids and skating down her cheeks.
“I love you,” I whisper to her. “I need you to do this.”
“I can do this,” she says fiercely, swiping at her tears with her free hand. “I love you too.”
I kiss her hand once more before releasing her to pull my Glock out of the center console and readying myself to act. Adrian parks a little ways up the road where we can see the small, aging, and decrepit motel, pointed toward the main road for a fast getaway. Several cars litter the parking lot.
“Which unit?” I demand.
“The maid said room six there on the end of the east side.”
“We’ll walk over to the west side and split around the building from there. Shoot first, ask questions later. At this point, put a bullet in Aris’s skull. We can’t risk him getting away. Zoe’s safety is our primary concern.” As much as I want to torture the fuck out of him, I can’t let it cloud my judgment.
Adrian and I climb out of the SUV. When I glance back, I can see Talia scrambling to the front seat. Good girl. With my Glock ready, I nod at Adrian and then quietly walk along the front of the motel. He disappears around back. I pass by rooms one through three without incident, but when I get to the fourth room, I hear muffled crying not far off.
Zoe.
Panic swells up inside me and I quicken my pace, no longer worried about hiding. My sole focus is my daughter, whose crying gets louder the closer to room six I get. When I make it to the door, I press my ear to it.
“Shut up, stupid baby! Just shut the fuck up!”
When I hear what sounds like a slap, I step back and kick the door in. It slams against the wall and I charge inside, my gun drawn. Selene has Zoe in her arms and picks up a gun beside her. Zoe is red-faced and squirming, clearly pissed at being struck by this psycho cunt.
“Give me my fucking baby,” I bellow, my gun aimed at Selene’s face.
She presses the gun against Zoe’s side. “Get the hell out of here!”
I don’t move. Quickly I take stock of the situation. It smells like dirty diapers and hard liquor. Beside Selene on the end table are several empty bottles of alcohol. Between those are a few of Zoe’s used bottles. My daughter wears a diaper and it’s full of piss, hanging off her little body. A red handprint on her little thigh makes me want to bash Selene’s head into the corner of the nightstand.
“Put Zoe down and I’ll let you live.”
“Liar,” she snarls. “That’s why I’m keeping this baby.” When she digs the barrel of the gun into Zoe’s side, she screams bloody murder.
Fuck.
I could put a bullet in her head, but she’s holding Zoe too close to her. With the way Zoe flails and squirms, I could accidentally hit her. I can’t take that chance.
“Money? You want money?” I ask, my gun still trained on her. “I’ll give you money and ship your ass to another country. You don’t fucking deserve it, but that’ll be my trade. It’s the best goddamn offer you have.”
Her eyes dart to the window, her brows furrowing. “I need this baby. I need him.”
She looks like shit. Her red hair is dull and stringy and she’s not wearing makeup. A big blackish purple bruise mars her throat. Someone grabbed her neck hard enough to leave a mark. If I had my guess, it’s that my brother’s been hitting the bottle and lost his temper on her. I just hope they didn’t hurt Zoe. The red mark on her leg is infuriating enough. I can’t imagine more.