“What the fuck did you just say?” he growls.
She tries to catch her breath. “Ashtyn … I know where she is.”
He squeezes her throat so tight it cuts off her air, and she flops around the best she can.
“Bullshit,” he spits out, pushing the tip of the knife farther into her face, breaking the skin.
Her face is turning blue, her lips white. The struggle starts to lessen, and I place my hand on Saint’s arm. His wide and wild eyes meet mine. “I want her dead, but just in case she knows something useful, she’s better alive for now.”
He lets go of her throat and removes the knife, stepping back. She rolls onto her side and gasps for breath. “If you’re lying…”
“I’m not,” she cries. “I promise.” She’s choking out sobs.
We both look over at Luke, and he’s staring straight ahead. He gives her away. The fact that he hasn’t said anything means he knows the truth. Whitney isn’t lying.
Haidyn gets everyone’s attention as he jumps up from the pew behind Lake, walks down the aisle, and slams the double doors open when he leaves.
I look over at Kashton and he’s staring at Whitney, face white as a ghost.
“Even if we found her today, we wouldn’t be able to collect her,”Saint had said to me in their office at Carnage.“The guys aren’t ready. She’d be dead in a matter of hours.”
I step into Saint. “You can take Whitney with you. Get whatever you need out of her when you’re ready.” I owe the Spade brothers for what I cost them.
His eyes meet mine. “I’ll make sure the punishment fits the crime,” he says, referring to the part she had in my wife’s life. “And after we get what we want from her, she’ll be dead. Like she’s supposed to be.”
I nod, stepping away from the Lords’ table.
Whitney starts to scream, her shrill cries making my ears ring. “LAIKYN! Help me. Please.” Saint picks up the gag next to her head. “No. No. Please, Laikyn. Please help me. They’re going to kill me—”
Saint shoves the gag into her mouth, and I hold her head up, helping him, while he buckles it in place so tight, the leather digs into her cheeks. He then picks her up, grabbing the rope that ties her ankles to her shoulders, not giving two fucks if he breaks anything carrying her like that with her weight. “Grab Jackson,” he barks out to Kashton.
We discussed earlier that he would take him to Carnage. I no longer have Blackout where I would torture men in the basement. I don’t want anyone at our home, and I can’t stay here at the cathedral forever.
Kashton grabs Jackson but remains silent, following Saint.
“Your turn,” I say, facing Luke.
Ryat places what I want in my hand, and I shove it into his mouth before he can fight me. I fasten it behind his head and then push on the two metal pieces on either side, and it pries his mouth open wide. He thrashes his head, and I do it again. Each time it pushes his mouth open more and more to the point tears are running down the side of his face.
I yank the chair over to the pew that sits opposite of my wife. I plop down and look at Luke struggle to talk in front of me. “It doesn’t even matter why you did it. All that matters is that you did it. So…” Ryat hands me his backpack that he brought, and I remove what I need. Luke’s wide eyes go from mine to Ryat. He mumbles unintelligible words around the metal gag, and I smile. “You took something from my wife. Now I’m going to take all of them from you.”
LAIKYN
I’m pulledto my feet, spun around, and the cloak is yanked over my head. My wrists are uncuffed and then the mask is removed. I wrap my shaking arms around myself. Strong hands turn me back to face the altar, and Tyson cups my face.
“Don’t touch me,” I shout, my body shaking uncontrollably.
“Lake,” he says tightly. “I know we have a lot to talk about.”
“Talk?” The word knocks the wind out of me. “Talk about how my dead sister is alive.”
Tyson steps in front of me again, and I try to shove him out of the way, but he picks me up and spins me around in his arms, carrying me up the aisle he once forced me down. “Put me down!” I scream just as he sets me on my feet at the end by the double doors. “What did you do?” I demand, punching his chest. “What did … you do?” I begin to cry, my legs trying to give out on me, and he wraps his arms around me to hold me up. I’m crying so hard that I’m choking.
My eyes catch sight of Luke barely breathing, head hanging forward, and all the blood that drips from his open mouth and onto his shirt.
Then I feel it. The bile starts to rise in my throat. My chest heaves, and I begin to gag. Tyson yanks me over to a trash can. Grabbing my hair, he grips it tightly while I wrap my hands around the edge and vomit into it.
It’s like the day at the hospital when I found out she died all over again. I dry heave for a few seconds, and then I push off the trash can. He lets go of my hair, and I fall to my ass by the doors, pushing my body into the wall. I bring my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. “You knew she was alive,” I whisper, rocking back and forth.
