I slowed outside her bedroom to listen for a second before I headed for the stairs. I’d give anything to be able to stay with her, to find every goddamn scrape and fucking bruise those bastards had inflicted. I wanted to be the kind of man who kissed those wounds better and whispered promises to keep her safe.
But I wasn’t that man. I wasn’t anywhere near that kind of man.
I was a man of vengeance.
A man of wrath.
I didn’t speak much because violence spoke for me…and that never whispered…it only screamed, and begged, and pleaded. No amount of pleading would help them now, whoever the fuck they were.
I searched my pockets, pulled my phone out, and typed out a message. Where are you at with the footage? And hit send.
From the moment Guild called, I’d been in overdrive. I wanted those bastards identified…and tracked back to the dead man who’d gone after her. Because if he wasn’t a dead man already, he soon would be.
The bedroom door opened behind me.
“Meet me downstairs,” I murmured without turning around.
“London, listen—” Carven started.
I cut him a glare. He fucking knew better. Carven’s blue eyes narrowed before he gave a slow nod. I left him and made my way down to my room naked. I wanted a blow-by-fucking-blow account of everything that had happened tonight. The mere fact they were alive and safe with me left me little solace. I wanted fucking blood…
My bare feet thudded softly on the stairs. My mind was a damn mess as it bounced between conversations and violence. If only they’d known how close he was. Benjamin Rossi’s words resounded as I stepped into my bedroom.
Beep.
If only they’d known…
I grabbed my phone as I tossed my clothes on the foot of the bed and opened the messages.
Guild: The footage is problematic but I’m working on it, and the men are now at the house. I’m on my way there now.
I swallowed the flare of anger. Carven knew better than to pull the goddamn detail away. But the son didn’t trust lightly, especially where I was concerned.
I replied:
Send it as soon as you can. I’ll be awake.
I cast my phone onto the bed and strode for the shower. The hiss of the water filled the bathroom as my mind wandered. None of this was fucking coincidental. The fact it happened so soon after my call to Benjamin Rossi wasn’t coincidental. It couldn’t be. But would the Stidda leader come after Vivienne? I didn’t think so.
My gut told me that wasn’t his…style.
If not the Mafia, then who the fuck was it?
I stepped into the heat, wincing until the fine needles of water numbed my skin. If only they’d known…if only. I grabbed the soap and lathered. Still, I couldn’t shake his damn words, or the fucking lies Ophelia had sprouted.
I braced my hand against the wall. Fucking think, figure it the fuck out. I needed to stay a step ahead of all of them. The lies. The fucking diversions.
I know about the contract as well. That bitch’s voice echoed. The contract where the ink has been dried for a very long time. But you won’t like it…no, you won’t like it at all.
But Hale said he’d only just signed the contract, so why the lies? What advantage could that give them?
None.
Signed now or earlier, it didn’t matter. I didn’t care either way. I opened my eyes and dropped my hand from the wall. As long as Vivienne was mine. I turned the water off and stepped out, grabbing a towel.
My thoughts turned to Rossi’s words about Ryth. Maybe if she’d searched the house instead of her brothers…
I found my own reflection. Searched the house…had he meant Killlion’s house?
Rossi’s voice kept coming. If only they’d known how close he was…
The house…
I draped the towel around my shoulders as I strode into the bedroom and pulled on boxers and a pair of gray sweatpants before I padded barefoot into the monitor room. The monitor flicked on. I grabbed the chair from the middle of the room and sat as I pulled up the details.
I’d watched the footage a thousand times, reliving the moments when Killion’s home had been invaded by Ryth and her brothers. There wasn’t a damn thing I’d missed…but still.
My senses sharpened, aware of movement as the door quietly opened and Carven stepped in. The son moved like a damn ghost, one just as lethal as he was silent.
“I fucked up,” he started. It was the closest thing he’d come to an apology.
But I wasn’t there to make him feel better or soothe his damn nerves.
I was there to keep him alive, to keep him safe. To keep all of them safe.
He stopped behind me as I ran the footage again, rewinding from when Killion met his gruesome death. Tobias moved backwards in slow motion. Blood splatter disappeared as the stepbrother lowered his gun, then looked down at Ryth. She straddled the piece of shit and drew the knife back out of Killion’s thigh.
The man was dead, even without the bullet to the brain, destined to bleed out in minutes from a severed femoral artery. But Tobias had killed him instead, protecting her. Robbing her, more like it. Still, the piece of shit had it coming after what he’d done.
I could still hear her screams from that recording, still hear her begging for her fucking stepbrothers to save her. I’d heard screams like that far too often.
“What are you looking for?”
“I don’t know,” I murmured as I fast-forwarded past the aftermath to when they’d searched the house. “But something.”
Maybe if she’d searched the house instead of her brothers.
I followed her brothers as they made their way through the darkened rooms. Caleb moved deeper through the house and stopped in the study, where he’d found the stack of money intended for me, or so Killion had thought. I was blackmailing the bastard, but it wasn’t his money I wanted, it was his damn life.
I’d given Ryth and her brothers vengeance, and they’d given me their allegiance and moved me one step closer to King. Because that’s what this came down to—
“What’s that?” Carven muttered. I jerked my gaze up as he leaned closer to the screen, scowling. “Rewind it.”
I wound it back.
“There,” he motioned. “There’s a light.”
“Impossible.” I leaned closer. I’d watched this footage more times than I could count. I knew the moment Caleb shoved the money in the bag and left. So there was no way—
A glint shone in the darkness of the study, and caught my focus. It was so damn fast, one blink and you’d miss it.
“What do you think that is?” Carven asked.
I rewound and watched it again as Rossi’s fucking words repeated in my head. If only they’d known how close he was.
How close he was…
How close he…
“King,” I whispered as a chill raced along my spine. “It has to be.”
I rewound the footage, caught that glint, and slowed the replay down.
“That’s a cell phone,” Carven added. “If it was King, then he was right there.”
“And if he used his phone, then maybe…” I grabbed mine, thumbed through my contacts, and pressed a number.
Harper’s voice was a slur. “You’re really riding my ass with this, aren’t you?”
“I need something else. You still have access to the IP addresses from that night?”
“Yeah,” his voice sharpened.
“And you accounted for all those you found?”
“All but one. It’s no longer active.”
My pulse sped. “But it was active prior to that night?”
“For about a week. A burner SIM, no doubt.”
“Can you track that IP, send me the locations of the pings?”
“Yeah, now?”
“Now.”
There was a rustle of bedding and a groan. “Okay, give me five.”
“I owe you,” I muttered, my mind racing.
“London. You don’t owe me shit. But thanks for the sentiment. Watch your inbox,” he answered, and hung up the call.
Five minutes. I could almost time it. As discussed…the message landed in my inbox. Carven crowded me as I opened up the text document. There it was…the IP address. My pulse sped. King’s IP. It was the closest we had come to finding him.
Now we had…
“Punch in the locations.”
I entered the GPS coordinates one by one. There weren’t that many to go through, not many at all.
“Look, that one’s repeated. There and there and there,” Carven pointed.
I narrowed in on the location on the map, then switched to satellite view.
“We have him,” the son whispered. “We fucking have him.”
“Don’t get carried away,” I reminded, but damn, it was hard not to get swept away with excitement.
The coordinates tracked it down to a place downtown. Trees shrouded the view, but still I caught the edge of a building tucked away before I rose. “I’ll get dressed.”
He met my gaze, excitement in his eyes. “I’m coming with you.”
I hurried back to the bedroom, pulled on black cargos and a black long-sleeved shirt, and zipped up my combat boots. Déjà vu hit me hard as I punched in the coordinates. In an instant, I was back there in that other life, where I’d killed people for money. Only this time, I didn’t want to kill him.
I wanted to use him.
To force him to destroy The Order and everyone in it.
Now that I had his daughters, he’d have no choice but to do what I wanted. I controlled King and I controlled the game. The thought both exhilarated and filled me with fear. I glanced at the movement outside my bedroom door.
But there wasn’t one set of boots…there were two.
I grabbed my bag and headed out, to find both sons waiting for me on the landing. I scowled and glanced at Colt. “I figured you’d stay with her.”
“She’s asleep,” Carven answered for him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Which it was, he’d been answering for his brother almost his entire life.
I didn’t like leaving her…but every second we wasted was one second too long, and we’d waited far too long as it was. I grabbed my phone and punched a quick message to Guild: We’re out. Vivienne is asleep. We’ll be back as soon as we can.
Then I gave them a nod before we made our way downstairs and piled into the Explorer, with Carven behind the wheel. If only they’d known how close he was. If it was King, then he’d been watching them the entire time. How the fuck had he known?
I glanced at the clock in the dashboard…it was later than I’d thought, nearly the early hours of the morning. What if King was there when we got there? Would he put up a fight? “I don’t need to remind you how important it is to take him alive?”
Carven cut me a glare. “No, you don’t.”
I gave a nod, then turned my thoughts back to the capture. He’d fight. I know he’d fight. He might even hurt us. “I want you to hang back when we get there. I go in first, got it?”
I didn’t wait for them to answer. They’d expect it anyway, thinking I wanted the first sighting for myself, the hunter spotting his target. But it was more to do with the man being unpredictable…and cunning as hell.
We turned once more. I glanced at the coordinates and the tiny dot heading toward it.
This was it…
This…was…it.
I drew my gun and held it close to my chest as my other hand went to the door handle. Towering trees rose up ahead and shrouded the apartment complex. One that was deemed to be under construction, only there was no fence or barrier I could see. Carven braked, pulling up hard but quiet.
I was out of the four-wheel drive before I knew it as I fell back into that cold, careful hunger, my boots soundless on the ground. The sons were close behind, two, three steps. It was all I needed as I scanned the area, found external stairs, and motioned forward.
Gravel crunched under my steps as I rushed upward.
If only they’d known how close he was.
My breaths were heavy as I climbed, my focus on the debris at my feet.
I flicked on a flashlight, then back off. There was a slight track…worn, leading upwards.
I climbed, headed to the next floor…the track was still there. I climbed once more, all the way to the third floor, where it ended. I glanced behind me to my sons and motioned silently forward. Carven gave a nod, the black Glock pressed against his chest.
I moved along the landing of the third floor as I searched for a way in, and caught sight of a blinking red light.
There.
My heart thundered as I grabbed my bag and pulled out the soft explosive. The sons hung back as I worked fast to set the charge and move backwards, turned, then pressed the icon on my phone.
Bang!
The charge exploded and we rushed in. Laser beams cut diagonally low across the floor. I swung my gaze. I’d expected nothing less. I dragged out the second charge as I scanned the hallway and stopped at the black steel door.
Fuck.
I didn’t think the charge would be strong enough, but I couldn’t risk it any louder. Panic rose as I pressed the charge against the lock, the sons moving back, guns raised, their focus fixed on that door. Hungry, so fucking hungry. I moved back, then pressed the icon.
BANG!
The sound was deafening in the narrow space, but he already knew we were coming. For King, it was far too late. I rushed forward, bore down on the handle, and drove my shoulder against the door…then stumbled inward as it gave way.
Into the gloom…
Of the dull light coming from a bank of monitors on the wall. Only one was switched on…my face filled the screen. I scanned the apartment, searching for movement, and tried to take it all in. The darkness, the surveillance information. Walls of information. It took up most of the apartment, leaving a bed and a sleek, expensive kitchen to take up the rest of the space, with what must be a bathroom off to the side.
This wasn’t an apartment. This was a lair, one filled with the kind of sophisticated equipment even I couldn’t get my hands on.
“Jesus,” Carven muttered. “What the fuck.”
“What the fuck, indeed,” I murmured as I stepped closer to the wall of monitors.
The apartment was empty. The energy was stale. But I was drawn to the bank of monitors.
Click.
The sound came from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and scowled as Carven hit another switch. In an instant, the wall became a digital instrument filled with names, details, locations. Five faces ran down the side, details digitally revolved.
“Jesus motherfucking Christ,” Carven whispered, staring.
Haelstrom Hale.
Killion.
Ophelia.
Macoy Daniels.
Me…me?
I stared at my name, date of birth, social security information, list of addresses. I gave a chuff, then froze, even my fucking training was there. Jesus…then, underneath that, Threat Level High.
Threat level high? My pulse raced at the words as Carven touched the screen. He had no idea. In an instant it changed, bringing up Ophelia’s face to fill the screen. More information loaded and all her filthy fucking secrets from the long list of addresses to the company she kept. Daniels…his name in red.
In red.
I moved closer to the screen. “Bring up Daniels.”
“London, this shit is insane,” Carven muttered as he pressed on fucking everything.
“Daniels,” I urged as I stepped closer.
Chills raced along my spine as Carven hit Daniels’ name and that ugly, smug, fucking face filled the screen. A warning flashed…drawing my gaze. Contract initiated.
Contract initiated? There was a paperclip icon next to it.
I know about the contract, as well. Ophelia’s fucking voice crept in. The contract where the ink has been dried for a very long time. But you won’t like it…no, you won’t like it at all.
I swallowed hard, forgetting where I stood, forgetting everything else. “Pull up that link.”
Carven tapped the wall, bringing up the attachment, and in a heartbeat, a page opened.
Permanent right to possess/use:
I scanned the document and dropped to the names listed…
The property: Vivienne Evans.
Owned by Macoy Daniels.
Owned by Macoy Daniels? Owned…by Macoy Daniels. The apartment spun, the neon text on the screen blurred.
“London…” Colt moaned, his gaze fixed on the details, before he turned that terrified stare to mine.
The contract where the ink has been dried for a very long time. But you won’t like it…no, you won’t like it at all.
I jerked my gaze to the date…the date that was weeks old on the same day I took her from The Order. Hale’s signature was next to Macoy’s.
He’d sold her…
Even after he took my fucking money and looked me in the eye, promised me she was mine.
The sonofafucking BITCH sold her.
“No…no…no…no…no…” Colt forced the words through clenched teeth. His jaw just as tight as his fists until the son whispered, “I’m going to kill him.” He turned away from the display and strode to the door. “I’m going to FUCKING kill him.”
Lights flashed on the screen….
I fixed on that as cold rage ripped through me, plunging all the way into the pit of my stomach. It had all been him, the cars following me, the attack on the mall tonight. The moment Carven called Guild and told him about what they did, it all changed.
“London,” Carven called as he jerked his gaze to mine. There was terror there…real fucking terror…from both of them.
On that display a red light blinked, moving through GPS tracked streets. Daniels the tracker flashed.
He wasn’t just being monitored…he was moving.
“That’s our street,” Carven whispered as he stumbled backwards and spun. “London, that’s our fucking street!”
Their wide, panic-stricken eyes were all I saw as it hit me.
He was coming for her…
HE WAS COMING FOR HER…
I whirled and lunged for the doorway as panic drove needles through my veins and I roared, ‘NO!”
