Chapter Twenty

Ty

As I stagger across the motel parking lot, my eyes lock on the door to our room, the only place I want to be right now. I need to see her, touch her, fucking hold her—remind myself she’s real. That she’s mine. It’s over. For now, at least. And nothing else fucking matters but keeping her with me.

Reaching the door, I lean against the wall beside it, my forehead pressing into the rough surface. My chest rises and falls heavily, the searing pain in my leg making my whole-body ache. I let out a strained groan, grit my teeth, and slam my hand down on the handle. The door swings open, and I hobble inside.

But the second I step in, everything feels wrong.

My eyes scan the room, and my heart starts to pound harder, faster.

“Kitten?” I call out.

Silence.

I limp further inside, each step feeding my growing dread. I peer into the bathroom, praying she’s there, but it’s empty.

I spin around, panic clawing at my insides, thinking she’s took the opportunity to escape me, but then, my gaze darts to her suitcase—still there. Midnight, stretches lazily in the corner, unaffected by the chaos brewing inside me. She wouldn’t leave without her Midnight. She wouldn’t leave without me. Would she?

My eyes catch something near the door and my stomach twists. I hobble toward it until I crouch down and snatch it off the floor.

A syringe.

My hands tremble as I stare at it, the hollow needle catching the faint light and a cold realization washes over me, setting my blood on fire.

“Fuck,” I growl before yanking the door open, adrenaline surging through me despite the pain in my leg, and storm across the lot toward the reception office.

I burst through the door, the bell above jangling violently. The receptionist is nowhere to be seen, so I storm up to the counter and slam my hand down on the bell repeatedly until she finally appears, her expression as blank and unbothered as ever.

She steps out from the back room, wiping her hands on a rag.

“Name,” she says without lifting her eyes and my face scrunches up with rage.

My blood boils as I slam the syringe down onto the counter with enough force to make her flinch. She finally looks up at me, noticing I’m covered in head to toe in some fuckers blood and her eyes expand.

“No fucking name. Where is she?” I snarl, teetering on the edge of a roar.

She blinks, her brows raising slightly. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she says, her tone dismissive.

The lie hits me like a slap and I lean over the counter, my face inches from hers, my eyes boring into her.

“Don’t. Fucking. Lie. To. Me,” I hiss, each word a death threat. “Where the fuck is she? Where’s my girl?”

Her calm facade fades for a split second and her lips part, her gaze flicking away, and I see the faintest crack in her composure. She fucking knows something.

“I don’t—” she starts, but I cut her off by slamming my palm onto the counter again, harder this time before shoving a bloody finger at her.

“Don’t waste my fucking time!” I roar. “Who was here? Did anyone come to my room? Did you see anything?”

She shifts uncomfortably, her arms crossing over her chest as her gaze darts around the room, avoiding mine. “There... there was a guy earlier,” she finally stammers. “A doctor, I think. He had some men with him. They asked about your room.”

The words hit me like a gut punch, and my stomach twists into a sickening knot. My breathing quickens, my hands curling into fists so tight my nails dig into my palms.

“A fucking doctor?” I echo. “What did he look like?”

She hesitates, her eyes flicking toward the back room as if she’s debating running, but I step closer, towering over her, and the look of my fury pins her in place.

“Tall,” she finally mumbles. “Older. Grey hair. Polite. White shirt and black pants, but... something about him felt off. He smiled too much. It was... creepy.”

“Where did they go?” I demand sharply.

“I don’t know!” she pleads, stepping back, her hands raised in defence. “They didn’t say much. Just left—maybe two hours ago! There was a white van—”

“A white van?” I echo.

“Yes! One of those medical ones. Like the kind hospitals use to carry supplies.”

My mind spins, images flashing in my head. White van. Medical. Dr fucking Moss.

Her words pound through me, each detail pulling the noose tighter around my throat. My teeth grind together as my eyes squeeze shut.

They took her.

Without another word, I spin on my heel and storm out the office, heading straight for the motel room. The door slams shut behind me, and I waste no time. I limp into the bathroom and lean heavily against the sink, my reflection glaring back at me in the cracked mirror.

Blood stains my leg, the wound throbbing, each pulse a grim reminder of how fucking useless I am like this. Gritting my teeth, I grab the medical kit from under the sink and yank it open.

With no hesitation, I dig into the wound, my hands shaking but steady enough to extract the bullet. A low growl of pain rips from my throat, but I grit through it, tossing the bloody slug into the sink. I press a clean towel against the hole, wrapping it tightly before securing it with a makeshift bandage.

As I work, my thoughts race. Why Sacred Heights? Why her?

Is it a trap? Or is it something else? What the fuck would they want with Raven? My mind hurts with questions, each one twisting the knife deeper inside me. But none of it matters. Trap or fucking not, I’m going in. My little kitten needs me.

When the wound is secure, I stagger to my feet, stripping off my bloodstained clothes. I clean myself up as best I can before slipping into fresh jeans and a black hoodie. The weight of what I have to do settles on me like a heavy coat, but it sharpens my focus.

Now I’ve got to break inside an institution that held me prisoner for fifteen years… But how?

Before I leave, I scoop up Midnight, holding her against my chest. She meows softly, her tiny body warm against mine, and I bury my face in her black fur for a moment.

“I’ll bring Mommy home,” I whisper, scratching under her chin. “Where she belongs. I promise.”

Her orange eyes stare up at me as if she understands, her soft purr vibrating against my chest. I set her down gently, making sure there’s plenty of water and food for her. My fingers linger on her head, stroking her one last time before I stand.

I take a slow glance around the room, my fists clenching before squaring my shoulders and stepping outside, shutting the door behind me.

Time to bring her back. Or die fucking trying.