“He’s going to Ophelia?” My words were a whisper.
I closed my eyes as the dressing room swayed.
It hurt…
Jesus, it hurt.
I clenched my hand and drove the sharp sting across my palm deeper. Still, it was nothing compared to the jealousy that savaged my chest. The memory of that bitch roared to the surface. She was all I could see, her ugly fucking smirk and the way she looked at him with that predatory stare and fingered the fucking necklace London had bought her.
He’d bought it for her.
Because they were fucking.
Just like right now they were fucking.
Not fucking…more like rape.
The thought of that stopped me cold. An icy white rage burned in me. She had forced London, pushed him into a corner where the only way out was to please her. He would…I knew he would. He’d do it because he had no other choice. My stomach clenched. I was going to be sick.
“Wildcat.”
I flinched at the name and opened my eyes, to find the deep, dark blue of his eyes.
“Do you trust me?” Colt stared at me.
Screams from outside registered as I gave a slow nod. “Yes.”
Movement drew my gaze. Carven stepped back into the dressing room, glanced at his brother, and nodded. “We need to move.”
“It’s going to get dangerous out there. So I’m gonna need you to stay close to me,” Colt urged as he tied the scarf tightly around my hand. “Can you do that?’
I gave a careful nod as he grasped my other hand and pulled me out of the dressing room.
I tried not to look at the dead bodies or the terrified shoppers as they fled the store. The blood was neon red, flaring with the punishing blows in my head. I tore my gaze from the sight of those dead men. It felt like forever since I’d been dragged inside that store. All that chaos, all that pain.
My cheek throbbed, and I winced. But I pushed the pain away and focused on running as we tore along the hallway that connected the backs of the stores.
“What the fuck is going on?” a guy barked as we hurried past.
We didn’t answer, just pushed through another service door and into a panicked crowd. Carven slowed and we followed, careful to keep our gazes low, and moved with the frantic rush of the shoppers.
I was shoved, and stumbled. But Colt was there, he held me steady and pulled me hard against him as Carven closed in. I was wedged between the sons, two men who smelled like gunpowder and blood.
“Get the fuck out of the way,” he growled as we barged through until finally, we were outside.
My hearing was just a dull, muffled roar when we spilled out. Carven broke away, lengthened his stride, then pushed into a run to disappear between parked cars.
“It’s okay.” Colt drew my gaze as I searched for him. “He’s just getting the car.”
Headlights flared, blinding me as other cars passed. I scanned each one, searching for the four-wheel drive. But I didn’t need to. Colt pulled me forward as the Explorer pulled up hard in front of us.
Horns blared as Colt opened the back door and calmly waited until I’d climbed in before he closed it and climbed in the passenger seat himself. Then we were pulling away from the horde of revving engines and honking horns. Carven worked the gears and swung the four-wheel drive around tight turns until we pulled out into a quiet back street.
One that seemed empty.
The packed frenzy of the bumper-to-bumper line we’d left behind spilled out further down from us. But we were free. Jesus…we were free. I closed my eyes as the engine of the four-wheel drive roared as it pulled us away from the mall.
The mall I’d wanted to attend.
I released a low moan and rocked forward.
“Wildcat?” Colt called, his voice filled with concern.
“It’s all my fault,” I shook my head. “This all happened…because of me.”
I should never have left the house. Should never have asked to go…should never…should never.
Carven unleashed a snarl, spun the wheel, and pulled over hard. I grasped the door handle and held on as the car jerked to a stop.
“Let me tell you something, wildcat.” Carven turned his head to seize me with an icy stare. “Listen up, ‘cause I’ll only say this once. It’s thoughts like that which will break you. You want to be a victim? Then keep acting like one. But if you want to be one of us, then we act. You are a by-product of what they created…a daughter.” He turned back and shoved the car into gear. “Just like we’re goddamn sons.”
I sucked in hard breaths as he pulled the four-wheel drive back out onto the street. His words weren’t soft. If I wanted soothing, I wouldn’t get it from Carven. But he would give me the truth.
“You wanting to go to a fucking mall had nothing to do with being attacked, wildcat,” he growled as he scanned the area. “And everything to do with those motherfuckers who want to control you.”
“They asked about Jack…Jack Castlemaine,” I whispered.
Carven slammed on the brakes, which threw me forward until the seat belt snapped taut. A low, savage snarl came from Colt, but his twin barely gave him a second glance. “They what?”
“They wanted Jack, Ryth too, if they could get her.”
Carven shot Colt a glare and his scowl moved deeper with the careful nod of his head. “Fuck.” Carven punched the accelerator and drove even harder as we wound our way through the streets, and only then did I realize that nothing looked familiar. “Where are we going?”
“Well, it seems like now’s a good time to figure it out, wildcat. Are you prey or a predator?” he muttered as he turned into a darkened street and pulled up in front of a massive black gate outside what looked like a two-story warehouse.
He pushed the button to wind down the window and pressed his thumb onto a keypad. The gate instantly rolled open and he pulled in quickly. I barely had time to catch my breath, let alone think, as he nosed the car into a set of large doors and climbed out, leaving the engine running.
Colt followed but turned to open my door. I winced at the thud in my head as we followed Carven to a heavy steel door and watched as he punched in a six-digit code and unlocked the door. He glanced over his shoulder to me before he stepped through and disappeared into the darkness.
Goosebumps raced across my skin as Colt glanced at me, then he disappeared after Carven. That careful look said it all. They were trusting me, allowing me into a place no one else went, other than London, of course.
Lights flickered and danced overhead before the space brightened a little. I stopped and stared. This…this was no warehouse. Dark moody lights flicked on to illuminate a sleek black Camaro parked in one bay and at the back was an open weapons room.
Black metal and glass glinted. I stared at the guns. “Holy shit.”
Carven moved forward, grabbed a gasoline can, and carried it to the door. “I have a plan,” he muttered, and turned back.
I tried to listen, but really, I was staring at what looked like rocket launchers.
“I can’t just walk in and interrupt them this time,” he continued. “That vile fucking thing has made it so they’re alone. So, if we can’t interrupt them, then we need someone who will…and a damn good reason.” He glanced at his brother. “That’s if you’re with us, wildcat.”
“To do what?” I murmured as I stared at a wall filled with names, a wall that called me forward.
Names. Pictures. Information. It was all there. All listed in a circle of filth…and in the middle was a name. Weylyn King.
King…
“To burn the bitch’s house down,” Carven answered, and threw something through the air at me.
I caught it on instinct and stared down at a balaclava.
My head throbbed.
My scalp burned.
My stomach clenched with the sickening tang of blood in the back of my throat…
Still, I stared at the woolen mask in my hand as I realized this was all too real.
The Order.
King.
And her.
“Yes.” I lifted my gaze. “I’m with you.”
One careful nod and Carven grabbed a small flashlight from the bench. “Then you need to keep up, got it?”
I took the flashlight and tucked it into my pocket. “Got it.”
He lowered his gaze to my low-cut top. “You’ll need something warm. Brother,” he muttered. “Want to help her out with that?”
Colt strode toward a hanging rack in the middle of the room, right next to what looked like…a massive cold room or freezer. What on earth did they need something like that for? I shivered, staring as Colt grabbed a black t-shirt and a jacket from the rack and turned back to me. I tugged my blouse over my head and shivered with the cold as I pulled on the shirt Colt handed me.
The heat of their gazes danced across my breasts. Colt I was used to, but the way Carven looked at me now was ravenous. The prospect of his desire both excited and terrified me all at once. I glanced his way, then tugged down the shirt and pulled on the jacket, zipping it up tight as I shivered.
He cared.
It hit me as Carven glanced at Colt, then jerked his head toward the gas can and muttered, “Let’s go.”
He could be snarly and moody all he wanted, but something was changing between us, and he felt it. I moved fast and headed for the Explorer as Carven climbed behind the wheel and Colt stowed the gas in the back.
I clenched my painful fist as I used it to push myself inside before I pulled the door closed behind me. Still, I couldn’t take my eyes off the son as I tugged the seatbelt into place.
“Keep looking at me like that, wildcat, and I might just do something about it,” Carven warned as he backed out and headed for the gate.
Colt glanced at his brother, then shifted to look over his shoulder at me.
A twitch came in the corner of his mouth, like he knew.
One tiny wink and he turned back.
Our headlights carved through the dark, and that dark only grew deeper as we left the faint city lights behind. The road turned quiet. I caught glimpses of large, imposing houses set far back from the street.
But it was eerie out here, the kind of place where you didn’t want to be caught stranded in case you ran into—blue eyes met mine in the rear-view mirror. Carven’s stare was cold, hungry, dangerous—him. In case you ran into someone like him.
He glanced back in the rear-view mirror with the piercing stare of a killer, because that’s exactly what he was. Then he reached and killed the lights
I stared out through the tinted windows and caught sight of a driveway behind a wrought iron fence before we passed. A second later, we pulled over onto the shoulder of the road, nosed between two tall ash trees, and parked.
The throbbing pulse in my head eased as I climbed out and shivered with the cold. The rear door of the car was quiet as it opened, and the interior light stayed dark. We were soundless as Colt dragged out the can of gasoline and eased the door closed.
Silver glinted in the moonlight and drew my gaze as Carven handed me a gun. “If you’re with us, then you need to protect yourself.”
I stared at the weapon, then lifted my gaze to his. He grabbed my hand and pressed the grip against my good palm. Jesus, my heart hammered. Still, I closed my fingers around the gun.
“Point and shoot, wildcat. Only if you need to.”
“But you won’t need to,” Colt murmured as he strode forward. “No one’s gonna touch you ever again, I’ll make damn sure of that.”
They tugged on their balaclavas, with nothing visible but those piercing blue eyes. I quickly followed, the wool warming my face instantly as I shoved my hair out of sight.
“Stay low and move fast,” Carven’s words were muffled as he strode toward the fence line in the distance.
In an instant, that panicked night I’d escaped The Order came rushing back. It was a night just like this, full of terror. But the memory was soon swallowed by that wall of faces back at the sons’ place.
Faces of those of The Order.
I glanced at Colt at my side. I’d lived with these men long enough to know they were targeting each name, finding ways to infiltrate and destroy The Order from the inside. The idea would once have shocked me. Now I knew the truth…better than they wanted to admit.
Those I lived with were bad, dangerous, honest men.
The kind who risked their lives for those they loved.
Now, that seemed to include me…
That thought filled me as Carven bent for a moment, then yanked the fence upwards to widen the gap for us. Colt dropped to the ground and scurried through, then turned to help me as he pulled the gasoline can through.
Then we were hunched over, running. Carven moved ahead, a gun in one hand as he lifted his other with two fingers skyward and motioned toward the front of the mansion we ran toward.
Not a mansion…
Her mansion.
One bought with the blood and terror of all those beaten children, ones like Colt. He ran beside me, his stony gaze fixed on the dark windows up ahead. Carven rushed forward. The pounding in my head struck with every brutal step. I tried my best to keep up.
But damn, they were fast.
I sucked the wool against my face with every hard breath as we headed for the rear of the house. The crack of glass breaking sounded far too loud in the night. I searched for the two guards I’d seen before, but they were nowhere to be found. A thin wooden side door was opened from the inner courtyard. My heart lunged as Carven stepped out and motioned us forward.
Then we were inside.
Just to walk on those floors felt like a betrayal.
Part of me didn’t want to see the lavish lifestyle her vile ways had afforded her.
But it was the faint smell of gasoline that kept me from falling apart. I had to remember what we were doing here…and why.
London.
Carven glanced our way, then motioned forward. I don’t know how he knew where to go, but we found ourselves in an expansive, gloomy room. I scanned the walls, finding murky outlines hanging on the walls.
Click.
The sound came behind me. I spun, to find a narrow glare aimed at the wall.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Carven hissed.
But Colt didn’t answer, and this time it wasn’t because he chose not to speak. He couldn’t. Because he was staring at a painting on the wall, his blue eyes impossibly wide. I moved closer and shifted my gaze to the blackened mess on the canvas.
It was a boy crouched down, with his hands raised up in surrender. But it was the deep blue eyes that gripped me. The only color on the smeared blackened sheet, a deep blue that almost looked like…
I lifted my gaze to Colt, then slowly shifted to the rest of the pieces that lined the wall.
Lost Boys.
The brass plaque in the middle of the wall made me gag. Lost Boys…Lost Boys…Lost…Boys…
Those terrified whimpers came rushing back through the depths of my pain. The tortured sounds from that recording. I knew what this was now. What this all was. It was them.
Carven.
Colt.
She’d never stop. She’d never. Fucking. Stop.
Not until she owned them. Not until she had what was…
Mine.
I sucked in that frigid night air. Still, it burned against that seething icy rage I held inside. I unleashed a roar and lunged forward to tear that ugly, fucking thing from the wall.
I was uncontrollable as I slammed it against the wall, then flung it down to the floor, where the frame shattered.
“Vivienne,” Colt called my name.
But I was too far gone already. I couldn’t have stopped even if I’d wanted to…and I didn’t want to. My fingers roared with agony after I’d torn apart the gunman’s face as I’d tried to save Colt. But I didn’t care as I ripped the drawing from the broken frame.
I didn’t care about the pain.
Or the blood.
The pungent stench of gasoline bloomed. Carven was a darkened specter as he strode around the edges of the room and splashed as many of those foul fucking images as he could.
When he ran out of gasoline…I was there. I tore them from the wall and hurled them into the middle of the room as Carven flicked a lighter and held the flame to the puddle of gasoline on the floor. Still Colt stared at that space on the wall. Agony filled me at the sight.
The need to protect followed. I cast the ugly fucking thing in my hand toward the growing flames and grabbed Colt’s hand. “Hey…I’m right here.”
He didn’t move.
Carven jerked his gaze our way as he lowered the empty gas can.
“Colt, my hand…” I whispered. “It hurts.”
I knew if there was anything to bring him back, it’d be my pain. He blinked, pushed that empty stare aside, and glanced at the red scarf wrapped around my palm.
“We need to get out of here,” Carven urged as he glanced around.
At that instant, the shrill sound of the fire alarm blared as the flames reached higher.
“Now, Colt!” Carven roared as he strode toward the hallway.
Colt grabbed my hand and dragged me with him. I risked a last look over my shoulder at the hungry orange flames as they reached for the ceiling. Burn, motherfucker, burn…
We tore back along the darkened hallway and out that courtyard door as shouts came from the guards. There was no stopping now, not until this was done.
The crack of shattering glass came behind us as we scurried through the cut fence.
By the time the guards rushed through the house, it was far too late.
Those hungry flames had consumed the room and filled the night with a glorious glow. I stumbled backwards, pulled by Colt. We raced for the car, threw the empty gas can inside, and clambered in.
The engine started with a roar. The wheels spun and kicked up pebbles as we lurched back onto the road and tore away. I couldn’t catch my breath as I leaned over and grabbed my knees. Colt reached around and slid his hand along my arm.
I clung to him as Carven turned the headlights on and we raced through the night.
But that panicked fear was still there.
The kind of fear that was choking as thoughts of London pushed in.
I prayed this wasn’t for nothing.
And that we weren’t too late…
Please, London, hold on.
