Chapter 22

My muscles tense as I draw Cat closer to me. My nerves are fucking shot to hell and back after finding her in the state she was in. Something happened, and it had to do with the box on the counter I briefly noticed when I rushed to her.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It's been years since she was this distraught. She left fucking bloody crescent marks behind her ears. She didn't have to tell me that her memories had a hold of her. I could see the demons in her eyes as she stared at me, silently begging me to make them go away. She was reliving her worst nightmare. Not only reliving it, but it was like she was right there in those fucking moments.

As much as it hurts that she doesn't acknowledge or remember our children, it hurts even more when she does, since I know how much it tortures her. Before her mind started protecting her, Cat had to be admitted twice to the hospital when the memories became too much for her to handle. The first time was two weeks, and the last time was ten days. One day during the second time, she woke up and seemed to have forgotten about that night and our children.

Making sure Cat is in a deep sleep, I carefully loosen my arms and slowly get up from the bed. The medicine will keep her in a dreamless sleep for hours, so I don't have to worry about her waking up while I'm not here. While she sleeps, her mind will repair its walls, and she'll wake up with the memories safely tucked away so they can't harm her anymore.

Standing beside the bed, I gaze at my beautiful wife. Her eyebrows are pinched together and her cheeks are splotchy red. Her hair is tangled from her gripping it earlier.

Unfolding the small throw blanket at the end of the bed, I pull it over Cat and tuck it around her shoulders. After brushing a lock of hair from her cheek, I lean over and kiss the spot. "I love you, baby," I whisper.

My heart lurches when I pull back and see the frown between her eyes slowly smooth out, as if my words give her comfort, even in sleep.

Walking across the hardwood floor, I leave the room, making sure the door stays open just in case she does wake up. I go down the stairs and head toward the kitchen. The closer I get, the tighter my muscles become.

I head straight for the box on the bar. Before looking inside, I check the outside for the address label. It's not surprising that the return address is a post office box. Getting a post office box is easy, and you don't even have to give a real name, so finding out who owns it is unlikely.

I don't worry about wearing gloves or contaminating any fingerprints. I don't intend to turn it over to the police. Since I never got the phone call about Henry being released, it's obvious I can't rely on them for shit anyway.

I'll give it to Marcus, but I don't expect he'll find any prints. He didn't with the note left on my SUV at Mad Town, nor the envelope with the thumbdrive.

Pulling back the partly closed flaps on the box, I take out the pink piece of cloth. I recognize it immediately. Eliana wore an exact replica of this outfit the night she died. Under the shirt is the matching shorts. Both appear to have blood splatters. Since the outfit is too new, it can't be the same outfit she wore that night. Somehow, the sender found a matching set or had one made that's damn close.

Under the pink night outfit is another. My molars grind together as I pull out the blue and red Superman outfit. Again, it looks just like the one Ryder was wearing. Again, red spots dot the cloth.

I fist the material, the cuts on my knuckles from destroying my office yesterday popping open. The pulse in my temples pounds heavily as my body temperature rises.

Whisper is to blame. He may have Henry helping him, but this package came from Whisper.

In any case, it doesn't really matter. Both are dead men walking. It's only a matter of time before I get my hands on them. Cat and our children's suffering will be nothing compared to what I do to them.

I pull out the single piece of paper at the bottom of the box.

It's the same handwriting as the note left on my SUV a couple of weeks ago.

I hope you enjoy my gift. You can show your appreciation soon.

I ball the paper in my fist, barely controlling the rage filling every cell in my body.

Fucking games. I hate fucking games. And that's exactly what Whisper is doing. He's playing a game. The man isn't stupid. I have no doubt he can find out Cat's mental condition. He's taunting me because he knows how much I want his blood on my hands. He's doing the same to Cat to see how far he can push her before she completely breaks.

That shit is not happening. I'm done playing his games. He's taken far too much from my family.

My joints creak as I fist the paper and throw it back in the box, along with the clothes. After closing the flaps, I take the box out to the garage and shove it underneath a shelf where Cat won't see it.

As I walk back into the house, I take out my phone and dial Silas's number.

"Silas," he barks.

"Cat got a package today. It had the same outfits Eliana and Ryder were wearing that night. Red splatters all over them. And there was a note. Same writing as the one on my SUV. She flipped the fuck out, and I almost lost her."

"Shit," he curses.

"Pull every fucking resource we have," I growl, staring out the kitchen window. "Bring in every fucking guy we know who might have a connection to Whisper. I don't give a shit. I want this bastard found."

"You got it."

"I'm not leaving her. She's either at work with me or I'm here with her."

"I've got things covered here," he says. "Just take care of her. I'll call when I have something."

As soon as I hang up with Silas, I call Mathias and tell him I'll be sticking to Cat's side, but I still want his men around.

Cat is safe with me here, but I won't take any chances. I want as many men near Cat to protect her as I can get.

After that's taken care of, I carry my ass upstairs to our room. Cat's still in the same position as when I left her. After taking off my shirt and pants, I get into bed and wrap my body around hers. When I feel her warmth, my breathing becomes easier.