Page 152 of Savior

I don’t know what I’d done in life to deserve her, but I know she’s a reward—a gift.

Sloane’s steppingout of the shower when my phone rings. I grab it off the dresser, watching as she towels off her beautiful breasts, dragging the towel down over her navel.

She catches me and smirks. “Answer your phone, you fiend!”

I grin, hitting the green answer button on the screen. “Hello?”

I listen as if I’m out of body as Ardesia tells me he needs Sloane and me to come to him and Brynne’s apartment. My heart all but stills when he says he’s found out why Sloane was taken.

We thought all along it was a chance abduction.

“What do you mean,whyshe was taken?”

Sloane drops her towel, her nipples beading and her eyes filling with fear.

I fucking hate this. I want it to be over.

“Come over. We’ll talk in person.”

The line goes dead, and I pull the phone away from my face to look at it as if it’ll manifest answers on its surface.

“Who was that?” Sloane asks, even though she likely already knows deep down.

“Ardesia. He wants us to come to their place—he and Brynne’s. He says he has something to tell us about what he discovered about your abduction. It seemed like someone played a part in you getting taken.”

“I wasn’t a target just because I was out late and walking alone?”

I shake my head. “It would seem not.”

She grabs the edge of the counter as she breathes in dizzying waves. I rush her, pulling her to me.

“Hey, it’s alright, little dove. He’s dead. You’re safe.”

So much happened to her in the hands of those men that it feels pointless to pretend that it didn’t. I don’t want to belittle her experience by a long shot, but I want her to stop worrying each time the phone rings.

“But Don Adamo isn’t dead,” she says, her weary eyes finding mine as the first tears in weeks fall.

My heart feels heavy as I realize she’s right. There’s nothing I can say otherwise, either.

“Get dressed. Let’s go to Ardesia’s and figure this out. No use in worrying until we know what’s going on, alright?”

She nods.

We dress in weighted silence before we get to the street below and find a car Ardesia sent for us. Sloane is still lost in her head when we’re inside, but not too much, so she can’t reach me.

Her hand glides across the middle seat, finding mine and curling into it. Her eyes never leave the window.

I hold her tightly as if it’ll help keep her with me mentally. As if I can anchor her in a sea of churning memories.

When we get to Ardesia’s house, there are a few of Brynne’s men and a few of Ardesia’s around the kitchen table. Faces are stoic, and I try to steel my insides to the fallout of what’s coming.

One chair at the table is left empty, so I sit down, and Sloane slides into my lap. My arms wrap around her as silent strength.

Ardesia smirks, but coughs and wipes it away when Sloane’s eyes find his.

“What’s this about?” she asks, her voice wavering. She’s over not knowing. Over worrying.

The last few weeks have been hard, but they’ve been happy, and she’s been lighter than I’ve ever seen her.

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