“Wait, you’re free,” I rasp.
“Got out of these ages ago, darlin’, was waiting for the right moment until you showed up.”
“You let him go?” Cade crosses his arms.
“It takes seven minutes from here to get out of the house. He isn’t going anywhere.” I tell him, glancing at the clock counting down the time. “A deal is a deal.”
Knox’s thumb swipes over my cheek, the pad of it coming away red. “So violent.” He muses.
“I’m all for putting on a show,” Caden drawls, “But now may not be the time.”
“You don’t get to fucking watch,” Knox bites.
The alarm begins to blare on my cell, and my heart kicks up.
“Time to go hunting.” I pocket the device and get to my feet. “You coming, or am I going to have to do all the work?”
Perhaps it’s overkill. There’s fifteen of Cade’s men following the three of us, every weapon drawn, every door and hall searched.
He hasn’t made it out, that much Iknow, he’s left bloody footprints all down the halls from where he slipped.
He’s hiding like the coward he is.
Bodies litter the floor; blood is sprayed up the walls. It’s a massacre of my own creation, and honestly, it enhances the décor. It was all sosterile.
Being back in this house has only made me realize how much I didn’t miss it. None of it, not the winding, maze-like halls or the many empty rooms. Not the oversized kitchen and oversized living rooms with furniture that never got used or bedrooms that never got slept in.
I’m not giving up the city, but this house… This house is no longer my home.
Carter Cattle Ranch, with the mountains and the forests and the goddamn bull named Ralph. That’s my home.
Knox is my home.
“He’s trapped,” Knox rasps at my side, “Reckless. We need to tread carefully.”
“Kill on sight,” I order, making it loud enough for the entire group to hear.
“Be careful, Elena,” Knox has since armed himself, and I can feel his anticipation. It vibrates through him. He wants the kill as much as I do.
“I always am.” I reply.
“Bullshit.” Hesnaps back.
I roll my eyes. “Break up. Find him, kill him. I want this over.”
Without a single word, the group sections off into pairs, taking different rooms and halls in search of my uncle, leaving just me, Knox and Cade.
“No more deals,” Cade grumbles.
“Don’t plan on it,” I hit back.
We come out a side door, into a courtyard garden where a fountain sprays water into the air and a couple of wrought iron benches surround it. The air is hot, heavy even, but it’s silent out here, too still. With its secluded and sheltered position, the wind doesn’t touch the plants that grow; the leaves not touched by a single breeze. I spot the stark white suit way before the others, see the flash of gun metal as it catches in the sun.
My uncle fires and I move, not willing to accept any other outcome.
I stop in front of Knox, hands grasping his arms on either side as the bullet hits me on my lower right flank.
For just a second everything ceases. It goes still and silent; there’s no water trickling, no shoes tapping or breathing. Wide eyes meet mine as hands grasp me, the pain waiting at the sidelines for time to resume.
