Of course he’s right.
Any reasonable person would understand this simple truth.
If I’d kept quiet and hadn’t asked questions, just went along with the detective’s explanation of the events of that shooting…
…I’d be one more person enabling a grossly corrupt system.
“We’ll figure this shit out, Kerri.” He hasn’t let me go, and when I wrap a hand around his wrist, he flinches. So do I because the contact is electric. “The Unholy got your back.”
The Unholy may not be the largest army, but they’re a powerful force who have eradicated rival gangs. To have them in my corner is as humbling as it is awesome. “Thank you.” When he goes to walk away, I stop him. “Wait. Why do you care what happens to me? Personally. Why do you care?”
Havoc’s gaze travels over me, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “If you die on my watch, Faith will cut off my balls.”
Well.
Okay then.
8
HAVOC
“You can come outside.”
Kerri pokes her head out the front door like I’ve invited her onto an active battlefield. She glances right, then left, but doesn’t step past the threshold. “And you’re sure it’s safe?”
We’ve been at the Death Star for seven days. Seven goddamn torturous days. She’s been in the basement, where the security system’s command center is located. She viewed the monitors and saw for herself we have a clear view of the surrounding land.
“See those?” I point to the four security cameras visible from the house. There’s a dozen more scattered across the vicinity. “How many times do I have to remind you they cover what I don’t see when I walk the grounds? Do you think I’d tell you to come outside if I thought you’d be in danger?”
Still framed in the threshold, she shakes her head, but the movement is barely perceptible beneath the mammoth hoodie. Sure, she has the clothes Faith gave her, but apparently, Kerri likes to wear my stuff.
Everything in the closet belongs to me. Saves me time and energy to keep some shit here. Downside is that it’s driving me insane to see her wearing my Slipknot shirt.
“So, it’s okay, then?”
“For fuck’s sake, Duchess. It’s safe.”
As safe as I can make it, given her current situation.
Jester called with an update, and although it’s frustrating to communicate in code, I could piece together that Kerri’s car was gone, as we expected. Someone got rid of the car—and the body—from Route 43, erasing every trace of the accident.
Now for the million-dollar question…who made Kerri’s BMW disappear? Was it stolen and stripped for parts, or did the asshole behind the hit on her father and Marcus find it first?
Jester ventured into forbidden territory, aka Brighton, to let Grace Ward know her daughter is alive and well. Plausible deniability had him withholding critical information. Namely, Kerri’s location and that she’s with me. To explain Kerri’s sudden absence, Grace is to tell anyone who asks that her daughter needs to clear her head for the sake of her mental health. Experience taught us a simple explanation is best. The more layers of bullshit you add to a lie, the harder it is to conceal the stink.
Finally, Kerri takes a single step out of the cabin and breathes in the crisp afternoon air. Another tentative step and peers around. The Death Star is in the middle of the forest, surrounded by maple, beech, and birch trees. Their leaves blaze red and yellow as autumn thrives around us. The Appalachians are majestic. Being here, this high, mountains are—
“Magical,” Kerri breathes. “It’s like a fairy tale.”
Yeah, it is.
The woodsy aroma makes it easy to forget the manufactured sounds and smells of the city. This quiet. This peace…being surrounded by this perfect stillness chases away the ugly of my life. Shoves it to the background. Barely an itch in my skull. The evil I’ve done, I leave it in Mayhem, where it waits to slide back in my soul. Its hooks always ready to rip me apart from the inside out. Each face of every person I’ve killed—if they deserved it or not—stabs their way back into my brain.
To haunt me.
Torment me.
Because who the hell am I to play judge, jury, and executioner?
