Page 134 of Meant for Mayhem

Time stopped.

I couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t do anything except look at my daughter on the floor and know, with absolute certainty, that I was right there and still let this happen.

When sound caught up to her, the cry that tore out of her was unlike anything I’d ever heard—high, raw, and terrified—and punched straight through my chest.

The door flew open.

Shannon was there in an instant, dropping to her knees and scooping Leena into her arms before I could even take a step. “What happened?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Beckett and Emmy appeared in the doorway, voices overlapping, hands moving, someone asking if we needed an ice pack, someone else saying we needed to go to the hospital to be safe. Bodies moved around me like I was a rock in the middle of a river, unmoved by the rapid currents. I stood in the middle of it all, watching my worst fear play out in real time.

I was right there.

Right fucking there.

Shannon’s voice cut through the fog enough for me to understand we needed to go. I nodded, or maybe I followed when they started moving.

Down the stairs.

Out into the cold.

Snow still falling.

Beckett took the driver’s seat and Shannon climbed into the front. I got in the back beside Leena’s car seat, my hands clumsy as I helped buckle her in while she kept crying that awful, broken sound.

The second the door shut, the world narrowed to the small space between us.

Leena’s face was red, wet, and scared, and the sight of it had every emotion I’d been holding at bay crashed into me at once.

The fierce, bone-deep love.

The terror.

The crushing knowledge that keeping her safe was my number one responsibility, and I’d failed.

I reached over and covered her little hand with mine, my thumb brushing across her knuckles.

“I’m so sorry, kulta,” I whispered, voice wrecked. “I love you so much.”

29

“Twenty minutes, and we’ll be there.” Beckett drove through Linwood’s snowy streets, working our way toward the highway.

I was torn between looking at Leena in her car seat, finally settled with her pacifier in her mouth, and Mikko at her side. His face was deathly pale like I’d never seen it before, panic written on every inch of him.

“She’s okay, Mikko.” I reached a hand back for his. “It’s not your fault.”

He stared at my hand but didn’t take it, returning his gaze back to his daughter.

Each mile we drove, each moment of silence in the car, felt like walking on glass. Everything was too sharp and painful, but I had to keep going. Had to stay present.

We pulled into the driveway of the emergency room a few minutes later, and I jumped out of the car. Mikko was already unbuckling Leena, careful not to jostle the arm she’d landed on, then lifted her out of the seat.