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Blake: Chapter 18


“I think that’s it, boys. We’re ready to go.”

Blake leaned back in his seat, nodding at Aidan.

He scanned the blueprints scattered across the Blue Halo conference room table one last time. Blueprints created based on the information Ahmad’s wife had provided. Blueprints they’d spent the last week analyzing.

The locations were just like the previous place they’d raided. High fences, heavily guarded, almost impenetrable.

Steve had allowed them to talk to Akela a couple of times over the course of the previous week. She’d spoken to them via Skype, and each time, she looked stronger.

Her need for safety, for both herself and her daughter, was so desperate, it filled Blake with dark rage to consider what her husband must have put her through to instill that kind of fear.

Ahmad was a dead man. There was no two ways about it.

“Get lots of rest tonight, everyone,” Tyler said, tapping the doorway before leaving.

Blake almost laughed. It was as if those words were directed at him, even though he knew they really weren’t. He’d been getting very little rest the last several days. He had three years of lost moments with his woman to make up for. Three years of stolen kisses. Of holding her while she slept. Listening to her deep breaths.

He shot a look at his watch, beyond ready to see both her and Mila. Their daughter’s school day had ended twenty minutes ago, so they should be at The Grind by now.

Perfect.

“How are things with you and Willow going?” Flynn asked.

He smiled. “Unbelievable. I feel like I can finally breathe easy, knowing I have my family back.”

Aidan smiled.

Flynn chuckled. “Damn, that’s awesome, man. I need to find myself a woman who makes me feel like that.”

“You won’t regret it.” It was like a hit of every feel-good hormone there was, every damn day.

He was just standing when his cell rang. He frowned when he noticed it was Mila’s school. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Blake Cross, Mila Cross’s father?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Helen Smolder, from the office at your daughter’s school. We’ve got Mila here in the office and were wondering when someone will be picking her up?”

A trickle of unease twisted in his gut. He noticed Aidan and Flynn pause by the door, eyes on him.

“Her mother hasn’t been by?” He’d texted her less than an hour ago, and she confirmed that she’d be there.

“No, Mr. Cross, she hasn’t. We tried calling her, but it went through to voicemail.”

This time it wasn’t just unease twisting his gut—it was stone-cold dread. Willow would never leave Mila unattended. Not in a million years.

His gaze shot across the room. “Flynn Talbot, a family friend, will be there in a couple minutes to pick her up. Keep her inside with you until he gets there.”

Blake hung up before the woman could respond. Flynn gave a single nod before moving quickly out of the room. Blake was moving too, running down the hall, Aidan close behind.

The fear was now sitting in his stomach like a rock, causing nausea to crawl up his throat. Where was she? What had happened between their last text and now that would stop her from picking up their daughter and answering her phone?

He moved down the stairs quickly, sprinting to his car and throwing himself behind the wheel. Aidan dropped into the passenger seat, the door barely closing before Blake was racing down the road, not paying a lick of attention to the speed limit.

Aidan called Willow’s phone twice while they drove. Both times it rang until they heard her recorded message. More dread sliced through Blake’s veins, icing his blood.

He’d always thought of Willow’s house as being close to Blue Halo, but right now, the five-minute drive felt ten times as long. Too damn far.

Outside her place, he slammed his foot on the brake and threw the car into park before running up the drive.

Fresh terror tore at him at the sight of the open front door.

Inside, he saw the blood. Large drops of it between the master bedroom and Mila’s room.

He took a moment to pause, listening for any heartbeats.

He heard a steady thump from Willow’s room. He ran to her door and turned the knob, breaking the lock easily.

Inside, his body seized, ears buzzing, and blood draining from his face.

Willow. So damn still, lying on her side with blood covering her left shoulder.

He dropped to his knees, hands going to her shoulder, searching for a wound. There was none. “It’s not her blood.” His words were more to himself than Aidan.

He turned her over gently, jaw ticking at the dark bruise on her forehead. At the redness around her mouth and nose. He lifted her into his arms, moving out to the car, and sliding into the back seat. Aidan jumped behind the wheel and started driving.

“Chloroform,” Aidan said, his voice barely concealing his rage. A rage Blake shared. So black and thick, it threatened to consume him.

He pushed some hair from her face, being careful to avoid the bruising.

It was definitely chloroform. Someone had put the stuff over her mouth. And when he worked out who, he was going to murder the fucker.


Blake held Willow’s hand as she remained still in the bed. The doctor had checked her over and confirmed that she’d inhaled chloroform and sustained a blow to the head. Two things Blake already knew.

Fury had taken hold of his insides, growing and spiraling by the second.

Chloroform was like a poison, goddammit! He just had to hope she hadn’t inhaled much. The harm it might cause, particularly to internal organs, was something that doctors couldn’t immediately tell.

His hand tightened around hers.

It wasn’t just the drug or the head injury that had him feeling like murdering the person who did this. It was the possibility of what could have happened. People used chloroform to knock out their victims so they could be taken easily. If Willow hadn’t fought the guy off—which was obvious from the blood that wasn’t her own, and the fact she’d made it into her bedroom—she might not be here right now.

His breath hissed through his lips as he thanked every damn god out there that she was so strong. Strong enough to fight. To lock herself away from her attacker.

Aidan re-entered the room. “Tyler and Liam are at Willow’s house getting a blood sample. They’ll send it off to see if it matches anyone in the system.”

Blake gave a short nod. He didn’t have any words right now. Or at least none that would help the situation.

“Flynn picked up Mila from school and took her to Courtney and Jason’s for the night,” Aidan continued. “They set up a spare bed, told her that Willow wasn’t feeling well and that they’re having a movie night.”

A deep swallow. He needed to call his daughter and talk to her. But right now, he couldn’t. The words would come out rough and jumbled. He trusted his team to keep her safe, and he knew Mila was comfortable with Courtney and Jason. The conversation needed to wait.

At the small movement of Willow’s hand in his, Blake’s breath halted in his chest. For a moment, she remained still. Then there was a slight scrunching of her eyes. A small swallow at her throat.

A second later, her eyes fluttered open.

The air whooshed out of his chest. He’d never been so glad to see those green eyes.

Her breaths were deep as she looked at the ceiling. When her gaze met his, there was confusion on her face. Then her skin paled, and she was leaning to the side.

He quickly grabbed the bowl the nurse had left, helping her lean over as she was sick. They’d warned him this could happen. An after-effect of the drug. Blake just bit off his curse, stroking her hair gently.

When she lay back down, her eyes shuttered. “I don’t…feel good.”

He quickly jabbed the button for the doctor before touching her forehead, hating how pale her skin was. “The doctor will be here in a second, honey.”

Her brows tugged together. “Someone…was in…my house.”

In each pause was a deep breath. Like she was struggling to talk. To breathe.

Blake’s jaw ticked. “Did you recognize him?”

A small shake of her head, then her frown deepened, like the motion brought pain to her skull.

God, he couldn’t wait to kill the guy.

“I heard something. Thought Mila left one of her toys on. When I got to her room, the window was open. Then I turned…” The heart rate machine sped up. “There was a tall man standing there. Wearing some sort of white bag over his head. Like a pillowcase or something. He had a cloth in his hand…”

She paused to breathe and swallow. Then she turned to look at him.

“I threw my tea at him and tried to run, but he grabbed me. I remembered what you taught me years ago. How to get out of a hold. To do whatever I could to hurt him. I used that to get away.”

He forced himself to internalize the rage. To smooth his features. “You did good, honey.”

So damn good.

He made a mental note to do a refresher with her on self-defense. The lessons he’d given her had been before Mila was born. Too long ago.

“I made it to my bedroom and locked him out. Pretended to call you. I couldn’t actually call because I couldn’t see my phone or work my fingers…”

Her voice started to drift off. He was losing her.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see enough to know who it was.”

He stroked her hair again. “Is there anything you can tell me about him?”

Another small frown. “He was a few inches shorter than you, with broad shoulders, dark brown eyes. That’s all.” Her breaths started to deepen.

He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “Sleep.”

He remained where he was, watching and listening as her breaths evened out. Then he stood, walked over to Aidan, and looked his friend dead in the eye.

“Stay with her. Don’t leave her side or take your eyes off her for a second. Protect her like she’s your own.”

Aidan’s eyes were questioning. “Of course. But where are you going?”

“I’m going to question the fucker who fits that description and has motive.”


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