Page 35 of Enraptured

CHRISTOS

RAIN HITS THE WINDOW sounding like a hail of bullets. I drank half a bottle of whiskey by the fire last night. Getting drunk was the only thing keeping me away from her. I stumbled up the stairs buzzed. I hardly ever get drunk. A man with no emotions with alcohol running through him could very easily become a murderer.

“Christos!” Mrs. Fritz bangs on my door, then barges straight in not even waiting for me to reply. I’m up immediately despite barely sleeping. In all the years I’ve known her she’s never dared come in my room like this. All the blood rushes from my face as Will stands silently behind her. His soaked clothes drip on my carpet.

“Where is she? Is she hurt?”

“…we don’t know. Her bed wasn’t slept in. And Simone is gone.” I grab my cell phone, opening the tracker app. My heart pounds. She’s deep in the preserve and according to the GPS in the tracker she hasn’t moved in hours.

My heart is hammering harder than the thunderstorm the night before as I dress quickly barking out orders. “Call my private doctor, find Boris, get my satellite phone, blankets, and hot broth. She’s five miles away, deep in Exmoor Preserve.” I open my safe, taking the Glock out and check the chamber. Mrs. Fritz gasps. “It’s not for her. It’s in case the horse needs to be put down.”

Tucking the gun into the back of my cargo pants. I turn to Will, “Saddle up Zeus.”

“B-but you haven’t ridden in years.”

“She’s deep in the forest. Even the Rover can’t get in.” He hurries out, Mrs. Fritz follows, wringing her hands.

“Bring her back. I’ll never forgive myself for my part in what happened to that girl.”

“Don’t put my sins on you.”

“But they are. I’m complicit.”

“There’s no time for this. I need to go.” I sprint to the mud room I haven’t used in years, pulling on thick hiking boots and then grab a parka. The wind howls as I enter the storm. My injured dove is out there. I scan the woods while racing towards the barn. Will hands me the reins and I vault on Zeus’ back. He’s fifteen now, but still the strongest and fastest horse in this part of England. His bloodline dates back to Ancient Rome, just like mine. Together we gallop towards a fight I’m not sure isn’t already lost. And for the first time ever, El Diablo prays to his Christian God. Begs forgiveness and vows to be a better man if he just finds his dove alive.

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