A flicker of recognition flared in his pretty but intense eyes before flittering away. Any trace of golden hue is smothered with inky darkness. We barely had contact, but somehow, he subconsciously recognized me. He’s not put all the pieces together, but it’s only a matter of time, which is why I ran like a little bitch as soon as he started my way. The guy I’d picked for the night was supposed to be a blocker—a shadow to hide my prying gaze in the dark. I’d thought wrong. The stranger’s presence puts fire in Ronan’s approach, rage coiling tightly with each step, his eyes shifting angrily between us as the guy presses me against the wall.
One moment in time and Ronan’s already pierced my soul.
I’msofucked.
~~~~~
Their workers are idiots.
I’ve watched Bryce and Dean’s—or dickbags as I like to refer to them—four warehouses for the last several months and nothing’s changed. Their routine. Which employees are in and out. Drop offs. Pickups.Allof it’s the same from day to day.
When we were younger, I remember thinking how smart our dads must be to have created a multibillion-dollar company together, but now I know the truth. They’re a bunch of morons—my dad included. He’s the one that trusted the assholes who fucked my childhood and killed him in the end.
My grip tightens on the binoculars as I scan the area for any changes. Of course, there’s nothing, sitting ducks for my disposal. Those two monsters—who used to call themselves my uncles and dad’s best friends—are going to regret the inception of their betrayal.
“And their little friends, too!” I mimic the witch fromThe Wizard of Ozperfectly; bursting laughter turns a badass bitch moment into a teenage giggle session.
I never said I escaped with my sanity.The laugh from Dr. Evil pops into my head, doubling down on the next bout of humor.
“Okay, okay… get it togetherbeforethe murdering. No laughing. This is atotallyserious situation.” My peptalk turns vocal, hoping to smother the next bout of laughter. Successful to a point, I snort instead, gathering my composure as I run the plan through my head one more time.
Step one—gain entrance.
Step two—kill everyone.
Step three—don’t die.
Seems easy enough. After processing what happened to me, Reign… my dad, revenge swallowed the remainder of my soul. The entire reason for working like a machine is to avenge our losses. Part of why I want desperately to speak with the guys and ask how Reign is,whereshe is,anyinformation, because since that night, she’s gone dark. I traced her transcripts to a private school that forbids social media, so tracking her visually has been impossible. I’ve only given in to my weakness twice, even after Jay warned against the danger of being traced, but Ineededto ensure her safety. None of which I accomplished.
She feels impossibly close and unbearably distant all at once. Guilt gnaws at me, a constant whisper that she’ll hate me for leaving her behind. This is my penance—to make sure those men never hurt anyone again. To erase them so completely they can’t crawl back from it.
That moment is here.
Adrenaline’s pumping through my veins, amping me up for the fight ahead, as I slip from the vehicle. The night’s crisper than expected, a chill slipping up my spine, sensing the mayhem that’s about to unfold. I strap up after circling to my trunk of treasures. Gun holster, cradling my favorite engraved Glocks, a present from Jay after my marksman graduation. Velcro cinches my version of an anklet to my left ankle, holding a new Ruger LC9. Both thighs are fastened with throwing knives—colorful blades of death. Once I slip a few more weapons within my bodice, I slam the trunk and start whistling while I walk towards my targets.By the end of the night, this place will burn.
Giddiness turns my stomach with excitement. My plan is finally coming to fruition. The only issue with their team being regular with the business patterns is that they’d recognize an outsider if I strolled up to the door. Luckily, one of their workers always wears a baggy hoodie and takes a smoke break before reentering the warehouse on his last round of the night.
Baggy hoodie guy lingers near the outer perimeter, flicking his lighter, until a red cherry is burning through the dark. The trees and foliage hide the glint of my blade, sounding only with a thud as it penetrates his chest after spearing through the night. Another thump signals he’s down, dead, allowing me to camouflage him in the underbrush. After his concealment, I snag his hoodie. Good thing it’s black. The color hides the blood.
The hoodie dwarfs me, hanging down to my knees. Not the best disguise, but decent enough in a pinch. Excitement’s pumping like electricity through my veins, I have to remind myself not to skip several times before reaching the front entrance. The two lackeys watching the door are arguing, debating who’ll get the last slice of pizza in the breakroom. They’re so distracted, they don’t glance up from their conversation.
“Ted, tell Travis here that the last slice of pie is mine. You lot already ate yours earlier.”
“Sorry, Ted’s still on break.” I huff, as if I’ve been personally aggrieved. “I think we’re going to have to let him go.”My lower lip pouts out as the hood slides back, revealing soft feminine features instead of Ted’s grubby face.
Their reactions are comical twin masks of disbelief before they twitch into action… or attempt to. My blades are already on the upswing, slicing the open-mouthed lackey across the throat, spraying another mosaic against the black hoodie, glistening in the overhead light. The other goons’ eyes widen as my blade sinks into the gobble-gobble under his chin, gurgling, and spitting up blood.
Twisting the blade so it tightens the skin, I use the leverage to experiment with ventriloquism as life leaves his body. “Do not pass Go. Do not collect two-hundred dollars.” A giggle bursts free as his strength drains from his body, dislodging the knife, and my fun.
My frown turns upside-down when I remember there are four other employees inside that failed their background checks. Of course, I don’t randomly kill for the fun of it; I vet my targets. Unfortunately for them, they’re all guilty as hell, and I have no issue purging them of their sins.
The door clicks closed quietly behind me as I turn the corner into their main warehouse. This is the lowest level of their warehouses—drug running is the only vice run out of this building—more of a distribution center than anything else.
Dad figured out what was happening because Bryce and Dean were clearing several billion more, and he took notice enough to sniff around. Drugs, guns,trafficking. There was nodepravity they hadn’t dipped their fingers in, hidden by the legitimate business that Dad ran daily. The front. Now that Dad’s gone, and they think they’ve done away with me, they’re diving headfirst into the darkness, going as far as grooming my boys. They’ve been familiarized with the violence shortly after our separation, but I drew the line when Jay revealed they introduced them to the weapons, and soon the trafficking would follow. No way would I allow my sweet boys to be tainted any further.
Even though there’s a good chance they’re as damaged as I am, I have to make it right. We all need justice—and the only way for that to happen is for their fathers todie.
On that note, I finish rounding the next corner, listening to the music increase in volume. I strip the sweatshirt from my body, and it plops to the ground like a wet rag from the weight of the blood.
