“Nothing.” I pull out of his grasp.
I’m grateful for the distraction when the passenger door opens and out climbs a second man.Never mind. That man can get right back in the truck, thank you very much.
He’s taller than Jester. Probably taller than Wraith. Not as muscular, though—but I haven’t seen many men with a physique as built as Wraith’s. And this man oozes danger. He sends a chill skidding up my spine that hits every nerve along the way. Like he’d have no problem killing us if one of us so much as sneezed in his direction.
There’s also something vaguely familiar about his face, but the dark goatee is throwing me off. Or maybe it’s the pistol he’s pointing at me that’s making it difficult to focus on anything other than the weapon gripped in his tattooed hands. The right reads Mayhem. The left, Forever.
Jester rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Malice, with the gun?”
“Precaution.” Malice’s voice is as foreboding as the rest of him. A slow, deep rumble that barely makes a dent in the quiet.
“Don’t you hurt her,” Roger hisses as he scrambles out of the car.
“Aw, we got us a hero.” Jester places his hands over his heart and bats his eyelashes. “How sweet.”
“Down, hero.” Malice uses his weapon to force Roger to his knees and presses the muzzle to his temple.
“No.” The word is torn from me in a desperate plea as I put myself between Roger and Malice. “Please stop. Wraith is on his way. There’s no need for this.”
Every part of me is numb with worry at the zillion things that can go wrong before we reach Mayhem. The last thing we need is chaos now.
But I catch the faint glow of headlights in my peripheral and relief almost knocks me off balance. Jester must see the light too, because he wraps an arm around me, and if I’m not mistaking his hold, it’s oddly protective. His other hand moves to the Glock holstered around his shoulder. He drags me toward the edge of the lot, hiding us in the shadows. Malice does the same with Roger until the four of us are out of sight.
Anticipation and fear twist around each other, and without realizing it, I clamp a hand on Jester’s arm to hold myself steady.
He hugs me closer, his crisp, woodsy scent as untamed as Mayhem. “I got you.”
For some insane reason, I’m comforted by his gruff reassurance.
The nondescript transport truck the guards use to shuttle the bodies to the crematorium speeds closer. “It’s them. It’s Wraith.”
“You sure?” Jester whispers.
“Positive.”
My bedroom has a direct view of the garage. Once I found out the truck’s purpose, I couldn’t stomach the sight of it.
Thomas parks near Jester’s van and leans his upper body out of the window. He scans the lot, sees the vehicles andnotus and whispers my name.
Jester shoves me. “Go on.”
No need to prompt me twice. I run to Thomas. He opens the door and jumps down from the truck.
I throw my arms around his neck. “We did it.” I’m breathless with adrenaline as I pull away from him. “How is he?”
“How do you think?” Thomas looks over my head. “Sorry it took so long. David wanted to videoconference with Doc before he released the body. And now you have to go. David’s coming back. You need to be gone.”
God, I’m scared. Like when I was a kid, and my father was on his way home from work. I have that same sick, sinking feeling in my stomach. But three sets of footsteps come up behind me, and I stow the unsettling sensation.
Malice levels his weapon at Thomas. “Where’s Wraith?”
“You can point that thing at me all night, but I’m not the enemy. He’s here.” Thomas leads us around to the back of the van. “I unzipped the bag, but I couldn’t get him out by myself.”
“The fuck?” Malice growls.
“You know we didn’t do this,” Thomas says, but Malice isn’t listening.
Jester’s eyes narrow on the sickening sight of Wraith barely alive and lying in a body bag. Malice, meanwhile, is threatening to decorate the dirt with our brains. But Jester snaps out of his stupor and orders me to get in the back of the van. I go without argument because the people with the guns make the rules—and with David on his way back to Gomorrah, we need to get on the roadnow.
