"Ready or not, here I come!" I called before I ran first to Layla's bedroom.
I checked under the bed, the place I had found her last, then the closet. I ran onto the balcony. I shut the puppies inside when they tried to follow me. The warm sun settled onto my shoulders. I ran into Alex's bedroom then and searched everywhere I could.
I hadn't heard the door shut so instead of leaving I checked the cupboards, finding them empty. I had told Layla we were confined to playing in the penthouse. I left and crossed the hall to Angela's room where she sat on the couch with the dog.
"Have you seen Layla?"
Her brows knitted together. She shook her head, "No."
I swore and called her name, turning to run down the hall to the staircase. I called her name as I raced to the ground floor where I ducked into the manager's office and looked at the cameras. I let out a sigh of relief. She was in the driveway.
I sprinted outside to find the child under a bush, attempting to obscure herself in a way that would have made me laugh if I wasn't so frustrated.
"Layla," I scolded, stomping toward her with my hands on my hips, "I told you to not leave the penthouse."
"You kept finding me."
I sunk to a crouch. I couldn't pretend that her big, innocent eyes didn't melt my heart. Still I forced myself to maintain my stern expression. I felt my phone vibrate and I pulled it out to read Angela's message.
"I tore the top floor apart. Did you find her?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
She sent an emoji of someone exhaling as they sweat. I shoved my phone back in my pocket. Returning my attention to Layla I saw that she was now sitting on the curb before me, her head down and her hair hiding her face. I reached out to push a thick lock behind her ear.
"I'm not mad at you, Layla. You deserve to be able to run around and play but you can't."
"I don't want the zombies to be around anymore."
"I know, sweetheart," I soothed, placing my hand on her shoulder and squeezing, "We'll find ways to have fun despite them. But you have to listen to your daddy's rules. Alright?"
"I know."
I pulled her into a tight hug. I squeezed her and let go but she held me tighter. My arms closed around her again.
"You're a sweet kid, you know?"
"I know."
We laughed and pulled away. In the silence I heard a scream. My heart sunk.
I wasn't unfeeling. I was a woman who spent years working with criminals. I knew that a helpless victim could in fact be an accomplice. I knew every tactic in the book. Yes, it broke my heart but my hand flew to my gun and I stood.
"Come on," I ordered, holding out my hand but keeping my attention on the general location of the scream.
"Daddy taught me first aid," She announced, running forward.
"No," I snapped, running after her.
"We have to help!"
"Layla, get here right now!"
Somehow she could outrun me, scurrying across the street and through an alley. Lunging for her I grabbed her waist and pulled her into my arms but she punched, kicked me, and pulled my hair. Still I stood and turned to run but was halted by the telltale sound of a gun cocking.
"Hold it."
I turned just enough to see the large man standing in the light.
"Get daddy," I whispered in her ear.
I threw her forward and as she ran I blocked his sight of her with my body until she had vanished and suddenly my body slammed against the cold ground, numbing my knees. I reached for my gun and heard a loud boom and my arm spasmed. I looked down to see my hand wet with blood and my wrist hollowed out. I could hear my heart beating. My head was spinning. I listened for the sound of another gunshot. The sound of the gunman's boots crunching against the gravel was all that cursed my ears. My body shook as the barrel of his gun rested against my head, making me flinch as the burning barrel singed my hair and seared my flesh.
"You're making a mistake," I growled.
He grabbed my forearm and forced me to my feet. My ankle burned. I couldn't put any weight on it but still he dragged me along. I tried to hop on one foot but I kept falling, only to be dragged by him through the searing pain.
He shoved me into his car and I cursed myself for screaming when I fell on my ruined hand. My body writhed in white, hot, searing agony. I groaned from the pit of my stomach. I heard the locks engage when he sat in the driver's seat. The car started moving and I felt the threat of vomit. Tears burned hot in my eyes.
"Why?"
"This ain't about you. Hush."
For once in my life I did as I was told. I took a deep, slow, shaking breath and looked him up and down. From what I could see he wasn't overly muscular or tall. Still, in my state I couldn't take him. Looking around I couldn't see anything I could use; the car was spotless. Discreetly I prodded my holster to find it empty. Then I remembered my phone. Holding my breath and watching him from my peripheral I snuck it from my pocket and lodged it between the back of the seat and the cushion. I made a mental note that I was in a white sedan.
I was going to kill him the first chance I got. I swore I'd kill him and force him to stare into my eyes as I did it. He traumatized a little girl and took me from my sister. I was going to employ everything I'd learned from the killers I'd saved.