And hunted.
She’ll be prey even if she doesn’t know it yet.
The first guard in our trio looks down at his watch and smiles, patting his colleague on the shoulder and sneering down when he catches my gaze. It takes a tremendous amount of effort not to kill him on the spot with my bare hands.
He disappears towards the main house.
I don’t have much time. Securing the tranquilliser I’ll use tonight wasn’t easy nor cheap, but it’s coming in handy. I don’twait a second and pierce the second guard’s soft skin with the needle at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
“What the—” He doesn’t finish and falls limply at my feet. I pull him into the guard house. He should be asleep for a few hours. I’d have killed him but it’s harder to justify a dead body than a sleeping colleague who’s indulged in too much alcohol or cocaine on Christmas Eve.
On silent feet, I catch up with the other guard, who isn’t expecting anyone to jump him in the dark corner of the garden. The needle finds its mark and I scoff at how easy that was. Either my brother is getting sloppy, or he truly believes no one will assault the fortress he’s chosen for a home. Especially not me. He doesn’t trust me, that much is clear. And he did break a big part of my spirit. Yet that vow keeps me going. The last thread of humanity in me linked to the woman who needs my help.
I don’t let my shoulders relax yet and creep towards the gathering of the evening guests.
The hunted are being gathered on the patio when I approach. Staying hidden, I scan the small crowd for Diane. In an elegant black dress and high heels, she’s being pushed around by my brother’s second-in-command. I don’t hear what she says but the tilt of her chin tells me she’s protesting. The slap that hits her face makes me growl low. I can’t act rash.
Once she is released in the park surrounding the estate, I’ll intercept her. My gut twists knowing all the other guests will die. This isn’t the first hunt my brother has hosted. I’m grateful he made me sit this one out. As though it was a punishment.
His massive shadow exits the house and the man of the hour steps onto the patio, his arms open wide. Always grand theatrics with him. My skin crawls. Just his face has that effect on me now. I wish I wasn’t scared of him, but I am. I know what he’s capable of.
Men and women alike who changed into tactical clothes and wear night-vision goggles laugh at what he says. The hunted tremble, eyes wide and fearful. Nausea rises in my throat, but I keep my eyes on Diane.
A loud whistle breaks the night air and she quickly removes her heels before darting out behind the house. Right where the door I was guarding is. I catch her as she passes by me, slapping a hand to her mouth.
“If you value your life, you’ll stay quiet,” I breathe against her ear. She flails and fights, though. “The Venturas sent me.” Even saying her family name is like ash on my tongue.
Diane freezes, then nods. I turn her around and press a finger to my lips then jerk my head to the side in a silent command to follow me. She does without protesting, glancing behind her shoulders every so often. She trembles but the adrenaline in her system is running high, making her movements jerky and fast. I can work with that.
All that matters is that we reach the guard house and I release her into the city underneath. She’ll have to run fucking fast, and without any documents, it might be hard for her to find her footing and a way out of the country. But I have to believe she’s as resourceful as the girl who thought she could love me. This woman helped raiseher, she must have the same qualities. There’s only so much I can do without disappearing myself. And that choice isn’t one I can make when it means threatening the life of the one I love.
The threat of the pain the cattle prod inflicts on my body and the forced pleasure that’s now one more painful thing I have to go through have me ready to retch. I close my eyes and exhale through the mouth, willing all images of what Petar is capable of out of my mind.
This is all I can do. All I can offer.
We reach the guard house. White hot pain assaults me and I fall to my knees. The back of my head throbs.
“Hit harder,” someone says and I dodge them, rolling onto my back and pulling my gun out.
Two figures, masked and dressed in black hold me at gun point.
“Michel?” Diane’s voice is filled with hope.
“Mon amour,” the stockier one murmurs in French and lifts his mask, kissing his wife and embracing her with the urgency of someone who came close to losing the love of their life. The reminder of what I lost is keen and sharp as it slithers under my skin and turns me bitter.
“We don’t have time for this,” the other man—who I’m assuming is Bruno,herfather—complains. His gun is still trained on me but I don’t care anymore. Diane is safe. She’ll go back home. Her father is unscathed. The woman I love can forget all about me, about pain. I’ve accomplished what I set out to do.
I release my hold on my own weapon and shift to my knees.
My eyes clash with her father’s. They’re not remotely the same colour since he isn’t her blood, but the same fire and love simmers under the honey brown that looks at me like I’m nothing. It doesn’t even register. I already agree.
“I know who you are,” he seethes between clenched teeth. “I should fucking kill you for what you did to her.” His finger hovers over the trigger.
Instead of an answer, I shuffle closer. My forehead makes contact with the muzzle of his gun.
“She could have died because of you,” he whispers.
“I know.”
