Dane's POV:
"Captain, I'm not able to reach Jake," Ivan stammers, breath shaking.
I don't even answer. I hang up.
My pulse spikes so fast it hurts.
Rain.
I call her.
Voicemail.
I call again.
Voicemail.
The air in my chest collapses—tight and suffocating.
"Ivan." My voice doesn't even feel like my own.
"Car. NOW. We're going to her apartment."
My hands won't stay still.
Something is wrong—deeply wrong.
She was agreeable this morning.
Rain — who argues with me over everything, who can't let me decide the brand of coffee without a snarky comment — was quiet. Compliant.
And then she kissed my cheek.
That was a goodbye.
Who the fuck does she think she is?
"Fuck—NO."
I grab the vase with both hands and slam it against the wall.
It shatters like bone splitting.
Still not enough.
I swipe my arm across the counter, sending everything crashing—the mug, the bottle, the glass.
I need the noise. I need something to break because I'm seconds away from breaking myself.
We're in the car not nearly soon enough and
I'm dialing Rain, Jake, Rain again—my thumb is shaking.
Every call goes dead.
I press my fist against my mouth to stop myself from shouting.
"Drive faster." I bark
"Captain—"
"FASTER."It comes out like a roar.
The car surges.
I can't sit still. I keep tapping my thigh, jaw locked so tight it aches.
My mind is racing through every scenario, every enemy, every threat she could've run into.
I keep seeing her face.
Her hands.
If someone touched her—
If someone scared her—
If someone laid a hand on her—
My vision goes white.
By the time we reach her building, something is wrong.
The silence—it hits me so hard my knees almost buckle.
"Break it," I snarl.
The door splinters under Ivan's boot.
I step inside and the air punches me in the gut.
It still smells like Rain—her perfume, her damn lavender soap—
but she isn't here.
She's nowhere.
A cold scream builds in my chest.
"RAIN!"
My voice rips through the apartment, raw, breaking.
I'm already running before the echo fades.
I turn into the bedroom—and my world stops.
Jake.
On the floor.
Unmoving.
I drop beside him so fast my knees slam the wood.
My hands are shaking as I grab his neck.
Pulse—weak.
"NO—no, no, no—"
My voice is cracking and I can't stop it.
My head whips to the side.
An injector on the carpet.
A small vial.
Empty.
"RAIN—WHERE ARE YOU—"
I roar it at the walls, at the air, at anything that will give me an answer.
Then I see it.
On the carpet.
A small empty vial.
The injector tossed beside it.
And suddenly…
the room comes into focus.
Not ransacked.
Nothing broken.
Nothing forced.
Everything exactly where Rain keeps it.
My blood runs cold.
This wasn't an attack.
This was her.
"She did this," I whisper, voice hollowing out, cracking open.
"She planned this," I breathe, the words cutting deeper with every syllable.
"IVAN!" My voice cracks. "Rain is not here. Spread out. Every street, alley, goddamn patch of dirt. Find her. Or I swear to god you will not like what happens next."
"She… fooled us," I whispers. "A five-foot woman—"
"She fooled both of you." I spit.
I sink to the floor beside Jake, chest tight with a kind of fear I have not felt in years.
The realisation hits so hard I sway.
"I'll find her now, Captain."
"You better," I grind out, voice low and shaking.
"For your own damn sake."
The second he leaves, the adrenaline collapses.
I drop onto the bedroom floor beside Jake's unconscious body.
My hands go to my hair, clutching, pulling.
My chest is so tight I can't breathe.
Rain.
Something happened to Rain.
I squeeze my eyes shut, head bowed, swallowing the rising panic—
but it doesn't help.
It claws at my throat anyway.
I force myself up.
I grab her phone from the bedside table—
the one I quietly copied numbers from just in case.
I dial the first one.
Ivan's voice bursts into my comm before Matt even picks up.
"Sir—CCTV footage found. She left in an Uber. But—sir—the number plate is fake."
A beat.
"And sir… she left with a bag. Packed. This was planned."
A cold, sharp ache spreads through my ribs.
"Yeah," I whisper. "I figured as much. Find out where she went. Now."
Matt finally answers.
"Matt," I snap, "do you know where Rain is?"
"…whoever are you?"
"I don't have time for this—she's in danger. Real danger. Someone might take her—someone might hurt her.
WHERE IS SHE?"
Silence.
Then a hesitant, guilty voice.
"Uh… she left for Boston. A 3 pm flight."
Everything in me drops.
"Thank you," I say, though it tastes like blood.
I signal Ivan with a jerk of my hand.
"Check every flight to Boston. See if she checked in. Now."
I pace the room like a caged animal.
Hands fisted.
Jaw locked.
Minutes feel like hours.
Then—
"Captain…" Ivan's voice is thin.
Like he knows what this will do to me.
"She… never checked in."
The world tilts.
Someone took her.
Someone took my Rain.
My spine turns to ice as images slam into me,
the ones I've spent six years burying.
The dismembered limbs.
The face beaten beyond recognition.
The tiles painted with blood.
The checkered game.
and the message they left for me.
My vision tunnels.
My body moves before my mind catches up.
I stagger into her bathroom, grip the sink,
and the memories rip my stomach open.
I vomit hard.
It feels like I'm heaving out everything—
She's gone.
She's gone.
And I couldn't protect again.
When the retching stops, I stay there—palms flat against the cold porcelain, breathing like a man drowning.
Then something inside me snaps into place.
I wipe my mouth.
Lift my head.
"Ivan."
My voice is raw, gravelled.
"Get the car. Get the guns. We're not waiting."
"Yes, Captain."
I will burn this whole city to the ground to get you back baby.
"Captain." Salute. "We traced the fake Uber. It stopped in Dorset." Boris rushed in.
I wash my face with shaking hands.
"We find her," I tell him, my voice raw gravel, "we kill all of them—and then we lock her in. For good."
He nods sharply.
We head for the door.
I'm coming for you, Rain.
And god help every last one of them if I see even a scratch on you.
Because I'll rip their chests open with my bare hands.
Tonight I hunt.
That is a promise.
My phone buzzes then,
Unknown number.
I open the message.
A line glows on the screen :
Such a soft, beautiful thing you've been hiding.
The boys can't wait for their turn tonight.