“Where are we? What is this place?” I ask, all wide-eyed wonder. I will play the role of Sleeping Beauty who just woke up into a magical, unexplained world.
“My castle. In Scotland. It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Niles asks.
I keep my voice soft, like I’m still unsure about him but curious enough to stay. “I’ve never seen anything like it. But I’m scared, Niles.”
If I survived my childhood and Dr. Don and the anxiety force field of my mother, I can survive this. I will not die here today in this ridiculous motherfucking castle on this random motherfucking island.
“Oh no. Don’t be scared.” He drags one long, creepy finger down my hand, then across my collarbone. Gross. He moves to smooth my hair with his whole palm, like he owns me. “I love you, Josie-Jo. I knew the second I saw you that you were mine. I’ll protect you. There’s so much evil in the world, and I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Gaslighting prick.
“Especially not someone like Axe MacKenzie. Who thinks women are garbage. Playthings to be bought and sold.”
I let my mind drift to Axe and block out Niles’s words. I will not believe a word this psycho—who spiked my drink and locked me in a room—has to say. Where is Axe right now? Does he care that I left the party? Does he think I’m back in my apartment, in my pajamas, mourning Nonna? Has he decided I’m nothing more than an employee after all—that AI Josie is really all he needs?
I picture his blue eyes, the way they soften when he looks at me, and his messy hair that somehow always suits him perfectly. I remember how he saved me from that drunk guy at the House of Horrors. He’s always looking out for me, making sure I’m okay. I saw Axe beat that man at the party, and honestly, I’d be happy to watch him do the same to Niles. Given the chance, I would easily bite off his ear myself, sever a limb, watch him bleed out on the floor in front of me without a whiff of guilt.
The world is full of evil people. I’ve felt that same fire, that same urge to tear the world apart, to destroy people who deserve it. Maybe that’s why I get him. Maybe that’s why we make sense. Maybe we’re exactly what the other needs. I think about how much I love him—I do; Ilove him—how that feeling alone should be enough to push me through, no matter how he feels about me. That love is what’s going to get me the hell out of here.
I will see Axe again. I know it.
Because if there’s one thing worth fighting for, it’s love. And love sure as hell is something to live for.
“Can you give me a tour of this place?” I ask, putting on my best sugary-sweet I’m-so-pathetic voice. If my mom were here, she’d be snapping a pic for socials with a #fuckcancer #bravegirlJosie caption. I’m scrubbing that identity from my life if I get home—no,whenI get home. JosieFightsOn is getting wiped from the internet, and I’m taking back my own damn life. But first I need to take this bastard out. “I’ve never seen the ocean. I want to see the cliffs.”
Niles stands up, extending his hand like some kind of twisted wannabe gentleman. I take it, give it a little squeeze for good measure, and let him kiss me on the forehead.
I deserve a fucking Oscar for not punching him right then and there.
Fifty-Two
Axe
We arrive by boat—Hawk drops me about thirty meters from shore so I can slip onto the island quiet and undetected.
“I’ve got a few of the lads on standby not far from here. We’re ready to move if things get messy. You just do what you need to do in there.”
“Aye, thanks, mate.”
“Don’t thank me, just get out of there alive.”
There’s no denying the danger of what lies ahead—though I don’t spare a thought for what might happen to me. All that matters is Josie being taken to safety far from this cursed hellhole.
Grabbing my scuba gear, I glance up toward the estate, the dark silhouette of Skara Brae barely visible through the rain and fog. As I jump into the freezing water, my mind’s swimming with questions. Why here? There’s something I’m missing, something right in front of my eejit face.
In all the time since my father died, and his empire with him, I stopped keeping tabs on Skara Brae. Hamish had already been gone for years by then, so once I sold the island to some luxury developers, I didn’t look back. I couldn’t bear to even google the place where the worst of my memories fester. Even if they turnedit into some posh destination spa as planned, I wasn’t keen to know. But clearly, that project never came to be. The castle stands there still, tall and unchanged, looming over the water like a damn ghost. It’s a bloody beacon of violence and shame for me, cutting through the Sea of the Hebrides like some ancient wound that refuses to heal.
At the age of seventeen, I caught a ride to the mainland with one of the Whales for what was ostensibly supposed to be my first recruiting trip but was instead my escape from my father’s clutches. I cut all ties with Scotland. Moved to America. Joined the CIA. Started a whole new life.
I’ve never told anyone the full tale of my childhood. Never had the stomach for it. But it’s no bloody coincidence that my father’s empire was replaced with the same sick, twisted business. Ending sex trafficking’s like a game of Whac-A-Mole, aye, but you don’t often see the bastards set up shop in the exact same place.
There’s got to be a link—von Graf must be tied to one of the Whales, one of my father’s so-called guests who came to the castle to “play.” The same vile men, playing the same vile games.
This place is cursed. And I know it runs deeper than just business.
I crawl onto the rocky beach—the same one that, when I was sixteen, ran red with blood. In my memory, it still stinks of copper. Each gunshot still vibrates through me.Bang, bang, bang. No time to dredge up the past now. I’ve got a lass to save.
I strip off my wet suit, shove it in my dry bag, and change into my fatigues. Von Graf may have owned this place for years, but there’s no way he knows it better than I do. I could map every inch, every hidden passage, every dark tunnel.
