She doesn’t give me a chance to finish the sentence.
Sloane headed out twenty minutes ago so she could change and shower, but she had called Savannah at some point, because now I have my future sister-in-law here and my brother. Where one is bright sunshine, the other is brooding in the corner, holding his niece. I’ve no doubt his irritation is for the situation with Richard Taylor, which I’m waiting for the right time when Savvy is distracted enough so I can ask him for an update. I’d had several missed calls from the guys this morning, but I hadn’t had a chance to call them back.
“Gimme that pretty girl,” Savannah makes a squeezing motion with her hands in the air as she walks toward Killian and Lily. My brother softens when his eyes look toward her, the storm cloud dissipating with her proximity.
A pang hits me right in the fucking chest.
A few weeks ago, I washappyto be alone for the rest of my life, it worked for me. So why the fuck am I now jealous of all the people around me?
Killian hands my daughter to Savannah, who immediately starts to coo down at her, walking her out of the room and toward the small pile of toys on the floor in the living room.
My brother jerks his chin, wordlessly telling me to step closer so his girl doesn’t overhear.
“Bast found Kurtis this morning,” He says in a low tone, eyes on Savannah. “We took him down and transported him. He’s being held for questioning.”
“Alive then,” I rub at the hair on my cheek.
“Just,” A twisted smile turns up his mouth as he shrugs. With my brother, that could mean anything. He may be alive, but that doesn’t mean he can talk or even function. I have to trust them enough that they wouldn’t let their rage get the better of them, but I also know them. If they target one of us, they target all of us. We act quickly and without question.
“I’ll get over as soon as Sloane is back,” I tell him.
“We can go together. Sav was saying how she wanted to spend the day with Sloane anyway.”
“Okay,” I nod, “Good. I don’t want her alone right now, so it helps.”
“Who?” Kill frowns, “Savannah? Why?”
I flick my eyes to him. “No asshole, Sloane.”
A frown knots between his brows. “You told Savannah nothing was going on.”
“The fuck is it with you lot?” I grumble, “There is nothing going on.”
Even if I want it to.
He holds his hands up, “Whatever you say man, we’ll leave when she gets back.”
A hand slaps against my shoulder, pain flaring immediately down my arm and into my chest as the wound smarts, the skin pulling, and the muscles feeling as if they’ve been set on fire.
“Shit!” Sebastian hisses, grasping me as if I’m about to collapse, “I forgot!”
I breathe through my teeth as the pain begins to ebb, but my shoulder throbs to the same rhythm as my heart.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I snap out.
“My bad,” Bast holds his hands up at my glare.
Malakai slaps him upside the head, “Hey!” Bast complains, “It was an accident!”
“I’m fine,” I straighten my spine, waiting for the ache to turn to the dull throb I’ve become used to. I took basic meds this morning, not the prescribed drugs that’ll knock me out, just some ibuprofen as if it might help. It hasn’t, not enough at least to notice it. “Let’s get this over with.”
Malakai unlocks the door in his office that will take us down the narrow steps to the cells that are below the estate. Immediately, cold air sweeps up from the dark below; the walls icy to the touch. Lights flare on automatically as the four of us take the stairs down, steps echoing into the pitch black at the bottom.
The main lights turn on once we reach the base, illuminating the cold, vast area ahead of us. We built several small, soundproof cubicles into the back wall; each has four walls and a single door for entry and exit. There’s no way out once you’re inside one unless someone lets you out. The walls are stained, the floor too,from blood and God knows what else. A large metal table sits in front of the cells, and in the drawers on one side, there aretools.Knives, and saws, and hammers, all used to extract information or punish, depending on who is sitting with us.
There are three things that can make a man talk. Pain. Fear.Anger.
Killian plucks the keys for the cells from the hook on the wall, and with a whistle that seems more fitting in a park on a sunny day, strides to one of the middle cells and inserts a key into the lock.
