11. Annalise

11

ANNALISE

“ T ime check,” Sienna calls out, and I stop what I’m doing to look down at my watch.

“A little after two in the morning.” I can’t believe time has gone by that fast already.

“Okay.” She nods. “We’re almost done.”

After everything that happened yesterday, one thing became increasingly clear to me. I have to get my daughters out of here before something bad happens. Cassius made me a promise, and as much as I want to believe it, how foolish would I be to trust the words of a member of the bratva?

And not just a member…I fear he and his brothers are running it.

I have to keep them away from my children, and now that Cassius knows the truth, it means we have to go on the run.

The thought is terrifying—constantly running away in an effort to make sure we’re not caught—but I don’t value my own comfort over my daughters’ well-being. Their safety is all that matters to me.

“Should I pack any snacks?” Sienna asks, holding a box of Gina’s favorite snack.

I shake my head. “We won’t have the space. I can always buy them more snacks.”

We won’t have a lot of money, but we’ll have enough. I’ll pull out every loan imaginable if I have to and accept every odd job…whatever it takes.

A whirlwind of frantic movement engulfs the room as Sienna and I hastily gather my belongings. I can’t pack a lot because it would slow me down, so it’s just the bare essentials of what’ll fit in two backpacks I’ll be carrying and then the small ones that the twins can wear.

The air is thick with tension, our breaths shallow and quick, mirroring the urgency of our actions.

Sienna’s hands tremble as she folds clothes into a duffel bag, her eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other. I hate that I’ve put her in this situation. I never should have gone to that masquerade party—even if it did turn out to be the most passionate night of my life.

It wasn’t worth it…none of this was worth it.

I shove another stack of clothes into the bag, filling it to the brim. “This is it.”

“Are you sure you got everything you need?” Sienna asks, her fingers fidgeting with the zipper on the duffel bag. She glances out the window, scanning the dark street below us for any sign of danger. “Once you’re gone, there’s no coming back.”

“I know,” I assure her, forcing a weak smile onto my face. I can feel the weight of her worry pressing down on me, but I know she’s only trying to protect me. Sienna and my girls are the only family I have.

They’re the only family I need.

“Good,” she says, her gaze lingering on the window before returning to me. “The sooner you’re out of here, the better.”

“I wish you would come with me,” I urge her. “It may not be safe for you here, and if I’m not here…”

“I didn’t realize you could offer me such protection.” There’s slight amusement in her words, and she offers me a small grin. She’s trying to lighten the mood. “They’re not after me, Annalise. They’re after the girls. You need to be able to disappear, and the less people you have to do that with, the better.”

Her words make sense, but the thought of leaving my best friend behind…after I just got her back…isn’t one that’s pleasant to me. I reach forward and embrace her in a tight hug. She hugs me back just as tight. This is our goodbye.

“One more thing.” Sienna moves into the kitchen and comes back with a piece of paper.

I frown, but before I can ask her what it is, she’s pushing it into my hands. When I look down, it’s plain as day that it’s a check.

A check for seven thousand dollars.

Immediately, I begin shaking my head and trying to give it back. “No, Sienna. I can’t take this from you.”

She refuses to take it back, smiling and enclosing my hand with her own. “I have more in my savings account, I’ll be fine. And I have to make sure that you guys will be too, okay?”

A couple tears stream down my face, and all I can do is mouth, “Thank you,” scared that if I try to say anything it’ll just come out as a sob.

“Alright, Annalise,” Sienna says, pulling away from me. “It’s time to go. I’ll go and get the girls.”

“Okay,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. Taking one last look around the room, I lift my chin and square my shoulders, ready to face whatever comes next.

I push the door open, gasping when I see a tall figure, dressed entirely in black, standing behind it.

We’re too late.

“Sienna, run!” I scream, attempting to close the door in the man’s face. His foot stops it from closing fully. “Take the girls and get out the window!”

“Quiet,” the man hisses, his words like ice on my skin. He moves closer, and I can see the cruel glint in his eyes. Panic rises in my chest, and every instinct urges me to run, but my body is frozen in place, paralyzed by terror.

I can’t run and leave my girls.

The adrenaline starts rushing in me, and my eyes dart quickly before I grab the lamp on the table, beside the door, and go to smash it over his head. He sees it coming and grabs ahold of my wrist, putting just enough pressure that I let out a painful yelp and the vase falls from my hand.

“Wrong move,” he whispers darkly before pulling me tightly against his chest, pulling something from out of his pocket.

Is that a needle?

Before I can react, he plunges the needle into my neck, the sharp pain making me gasp. My vision blurs, and I clutch at my throat, feeling my strength ebbing away as the drug courses through my veins. As my legs give way beneath me, I crumple to the ground, helpless and terrified.

What was in that syringe?

I should have left sooner…I should have…

My last conscious thought is of my children, their sweet faces filling my mind as the encroaching darkness swallows me whole.

My eyes flutter open, the disorientation of waking up in new surroundings washing over me like a tidal wave. The room is bathed in a soft, golden light from the delicate chandelier hanging above the four-poster bed. The silk sheets beneath me feel foreign against my skin, a stark contrast to the modest linens back at our small apartment.

“Where am I?” I murmur, my voice barely audible as I sit up and take in my surroundings. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries, and the scent of roses lingers heavily in the air. As I glance around, it becomes apparent that this place is not just unfamiliar; it’s luxurious. And entirely unsettling.

Realization hits me as my memories come coursing back, and with them, a sense of urgency and fear.

Just how long have I been knocked out? Too long.

“Girls?” I call out tentatively, my heart pounding in my chest. Panic sets in, my breaths coming in shallow gasps as the weight of my situation presses down on me.

“Girls!” I yell, louder this time, desperation clawing at my throat. My mind races. Were they taken too? Of course they were. That’s who they wanted.

I didn’t actually expect them to answer, but a part of me was hoping that this was all some cruel nightmare and when I woke up, Gina and Franny would be curled up in the bed with me.

Cold sweat beads on my forehead, and my hands tremble as I search the room for an escape. The luxurious drapery and extravagant furnishings are a cruel mockery of my current situation. I can’t help but feel like a prisoner in a gilded cage.

There’s a window to the left of me, and I run over to that first. It doesn’t take me long to realize it’s been bolted shut, not that it mattered. Even if I were able to get out, I wouldn’t leave without my daughters.

There are two doors here.

Yeah, like they’re going to throw me in here where I can easily walk away.

Even so, I have to try.

The first door I try, surprisingly, opens when I turn the knob. Hope surges through my chest as I push the door open. But that hope vanishes once I realize it’s just a bathroom.

A bathroom nicer than any I’ve ever been in before.

I close the door and try the other door.

It’s locked. This door must lead to the rest of the house.

“Think, Annalise, think,” I whisper to myself, desperation clawing at my chest. My fingers dance over the locked door, as if I’ll be able to find a way out. But it’s solid, unyielding—just like the men who brought me here.

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath, fear rising like bile in my throat. I can’t shake the image of my daughters’ terrified faces from my mind. What if they’re in danger? What if I’ve made everything worse by trusting Cassius?

I never should have told him the truth. Even if something had happened to me, at least they would have been safe.

“God, what have I done?” The weight of my decision presses down on me like a vise, threatening to crush me beneath its burden. I should have never let my guard down.

The lock clicks, taunting me. It’s mocking my every failed attempt to break free. I grit my teeth and try again, using a hairpin to pick the lock. My hands tremble, sweat trickling down my forehead.

“Think, Annalise,” I whisper to myself, pausing to wipe the sweat from my brow. “You’ve done this before.”

I used to pick locks when I was younger. Sometimes, it was the only way I could check on my mother who would come home drunk and lock herself in her room. I learned how to do it with a card first, and a hairpin later once I’d bent all the cards I could get my hands on.

After I moved out, I never thought I’d have to use the skill again, but…

Still, the door doesn’t budge.

I can’t stop trying though. I love them too much to just sit here and do nothing.

“Damn it!” The hairpin slips, scratching my finger. Blood beads on my skin, but I barely notice.

Who will take care of them? Who will protect them? The questions race through my mind, each one more frantic than the last.

“Let me out!” I scream, my voice cracking with desperation. I pound on the door, each strike echoing through the room and resonating deep within me. “Please! Let me go back to my children!”

Silence is my only answer, and a sob rips its way through my chest. I slide down the door, defeated, burying my face in my hands. Hot tears stream down my cheeks, and I can’t stop them.

“Annalise, you fool,” I berate myself, choked sobs punctuating my words.

The room seems to close in on me, smothering me in darkness and despair. My heart races, and my breath comes in ragged gasps, as if I’m drowning. And all the while, the terrible thought pounds inside my head like a drumbeat:

My girls aren’t safe.