He was wrong.
“I know the terms,” I grit out.
“Good. You have two months to take out those three bastards. If you haven’t completed the job, then I’ll take over and ruin the three of them and that cock sucking cunt they call father.” Lorenzo’s promise isn’t made idly. In order to prove myself to him and the rest of the men, I can’t fail this job. The reason my father has never been opposed as the Don is because he has the respect of his men. Without that, they would all turn on him and be fighting for the top spot.
“It will be done, you have my word,” I answer.
He reclines back in his seat and runs his gaze over me and Cas, his eyes blazing with intrigue and I fight not to sneer at him. My father is the only person who can get away with looking at me like that. If he were anyone else I would have them strapped to a chair, beaten within an inch of their life, then cut their lips off to place in my jar of treasures.
“What is your plan with that slut?” His focus is on Cas. He’s expecting him to jump to Toren’s defense and show him that his thoughts about Cas being a mole are right. He won’t get the reaction he wants because the plan to destroy the bitch is all Caspian’s. I slouch back in my seat and smirk at my father as I say.
“Cas, tell the old man your plan to take down that rotten little cunt.”
CHAPTER NINE
TOREN
The pain is like a current, it’s tearing me apart and dragging me under. My chest is tight and fighting against the pressure trying to suck me down. Breathing is becoming harder. I haven’t been able to take a full breath since I got back to my room. Kellan’s words keep playing over and over in my head.
Bit hard for her to do that when she’s dead, Toren.
My best friend is gone.
Kenna was more than a best friend, she was my sister. We had plans, so many plans. We were meant to grow old together, sit on the front porch and watch our grandchildren play in the garden. She had so much life to live. She had so much to offer the world but her life was cut short.
Kellan had said it had been a year, which means… Kenna died that night. A horrendous sob tore out of me, my knees buckled, then I fell to the floor and didn’t feel a lick of pain. All I could feel was the sorrow and anguish tearing me apart internally. A year. A whole fucking year my best friend had been dead and I didn’t know. No one fucking told me! The anger I felt toward my brother, Kellan, Caspian and even my father intensified. None of them gave me the respect of a phone call or even a fucking letter to tell me that Kenna was… Gone.
My beautiful KennaDee, how the fuck could she be gone?
I wanted to deny it and believe that Kellan was lying, but I heard the truth in his words. Without thinking I reached up and clasped my pendant. My thoughts immediately drifted to Emery. If she were here she would know exactly what to say, how to help me deal with this and give me points on how to cope with this crushing sense of grief and blame. I have never hated not being able to remember that night more than I do now.
Murderer.
That’s what someone had called me. Kellan also said thatit’s been a year since their deaths.
Did more people die?
Is everyone blaming me for their deaths?
What the fuck happened that night?
I tug on the strands of my hair in frustration. “Please, just let me remember,” I plead into the empty room. I wrap my arms around myself, praying that if I hold myself tight enough I won’t fall apart. The pain is so raw and unfiltered that I can’t suppress it. It consumes me and overrides every rational thought as I allow it to ravish my body. I deserve everything I am feeling. If I am responsible for the death of my best friend, then I deserve so much worse. I understand now why my father couldn’t look at me and why he sent me here. This isn’t enough of a punishment. He should have cut me off and left me to rot at Walter House. I need to be locked up and sent to prison.
“I’m a killer,” I choke out as another ripple of pain shreds my chest open. I draw my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, then bury my face in the tops of them as I unleash the water works. I’ve never been much of a crier, I’ve never had a reason to cry about much in my life. I was a bird living in a gilded cage. I was shielded from the horrors of the world, but one horrible night changed that. Kellan is wrong, I don’t deserve a clean slate.
I startle awake at the sound of the door being kicked open. The room is bathed in darkness. My eyes are puffy and swollen from all the tears I have shed. My body is aching given the fact I fell asleep on the floor. My breath hitches when I see a shadow enter my room. The guy has a hood on, concealing his face. Fear renders me immobile as I stare at the guy waiting to see what he will do.
“You’re gonna scream for me.” The instant he takes a step forward I scream and kick out, managing to land a blow to his shin. My body runs on autopilot as I jump to my feet. I try to skirt around him but he’s too quick. He grabs my arm and hauls me back with enough force that I crash into the bedside table. A pained cry escapes me as I drop to the floor, pain riddling my back from the contact. When I see him lift his leg, I try to crawl out of the way but my movements are too sluggish.
“Argh,” I scream out when his boot connects with my side. I don’t get a chance to recover before the wind is knocked out of me when he kicks me in the stomach. Instantly I curl into a ball, mimicking the fetal position to try and shield myself. Another scream escapes me when I’m kicked in the head. My vision turns hazy and my head feels like there is a heavy metal band playing inside it.
“Scream for me, you fucking cunt,” he snarls. I see the shadow of his boot raised through my blurry vision and brace for the pain. Out of nowhere another shadow appears and tackles my attacker. A whimper escapes me as I clutch my head. I canhear the two of them fighting and I try with all my might to get to my feet, only to collapse.
“Motherfucker,” I hear one of them roar as they crash into the dresser. I flinch and huddle against the wall, trying to get as far away from them as I can. My vision begins to slowly clear as someone else enters the room and crouches in front of me. I recoil into the wall, terrified he is here to hurt me.
He raises his hands as if surrendering. I can’t get a good look at him because of how dark it is. “I’m gonna carry you out of here, okay?” I open my mouth to protest but all that comes out is a strangled groan. He curses beneath his breath and reaches for me. Utterly spent and riddled with pain, I don’t fight him when he lifts me bridal style and skirts around the two guys still fighting in my room and heads into the hallway. When the light hits me, I slam my eyes closed before slowly blinking them open. My head spins and I start to feel nauseous. The second my gaze lands on him I suck in a sharp intake of breath.
His gray eyes burn with such an intensity that I tense in his hold, strands of his black hair have fallen forward and rest against his forehead. His lips, I have never seen a man with lips quite as full as his. His face is free of stubble but there is a darkness that clings to him. It’s not something that can be seen but it can be felt. I spy tattoos peeking out of the collar of his hoodie, oozing bad boy vibes even if he did save me from whatever horrors I was about to face in that room.
