“Please! Please! I have a family. They need me.” From anyone else, that statement would be heartfelt, but I know better; I know what goes on behind the closed doors of his home.
Laughter overflows, mania heavily setting in. It’s a fine line to stay in control, instead of letting the monster inside free. “You think they’ll miss you?” I growl, spittle flying from my lips, landing on their faces. “They’ll rejoice when you’re charcoal. You’renothing. And soon, that’s exactly what you’ll be—nothing…” I turn—but wait for it—because I’m all about the dramatics and finales in this bitch. “Except ash.”
With the flick of my wrist, the match strikes the box, and flares to life. The flame reflects in my fake shit-brown eyes—the last thing these monsters will ever see before returning to the pit of hell.
“See you in hell, boys.” The sliver falls from my fingers, flame flickering in the air on the way down. Seconds before it hits the ground, it’s snuffed out. I pout, stomping my foot. “Dammit! I had that badass speech and everything!” Their shouts increase in volume, but they’ve faded to the background as Iswipe another and toss it down, ensuring the heat catches, and watching as it crawls across the ground like ocean waves of fire.
The fingers of death crawl up Henry’s legs first, confirming his paralyzed state when he doesn’t move or increase his protests. Patrick’s squealing enough for both of them, using his floppy-caterpillar move to escape the flames, but the way their ginger-breaded together by their hands doesn’t allow the movement he’ll need. It’s pointless.
Flames trail the path of the lighter fluid like swirls of sunset colors, catching on cloth—on hair. Between one blink and the next, they’re engulfed in the inferno. Screams pilfer the air, creating a crescendo of joy on my side, and terror for them. A smile dabs my lips, knowing that these bottom feeders have paid their penance with pain, that their victims will have some sort of peace.
These monsters are living on borrowed time.
For years, they’ve walked free—thinking they got away with it. Thinking the fire erased everything.
But they’ll never see the ghost coming.
The one they thought died that night.
The boys don’t know the entire story. They think I was lost in the flames. But Dean and Bryce?
They haven’t looked over their shoulders once.
They should’ve.
They’re the ones who threw me down beside my father’s lifeless body and watched the fire swallow us whole.
They torched my world—ripped it apart without blinking.
And the way they lit that match?
It’s poetic, really.
Because that’s exactly how they’ll go down.
Their empire, their lies, every sick bastard tied to them—
They’ll all burn.
Chapter Four
Emerson
“What do you mean the camera system isn’t set up? Patrick should have made that a priority!” Bryce—my father—screams into his phone. He’s pacing behind his giant wooden desk, compensating for the man he pretends to portray. “It’s not going to matter anyway… what?Why?Because—you fucking idiot—he was working. If they’re all dead and the building is a pile of ash, thenso is he!” He slams the cell on his desk. No doubt, cracking the screen. It’s not a typical week unless he breaks at least one in rage. His temper is a beast I learned to tame a long time ago. Now he doesn’t fuck with me, knowing I’d put him in the ground just as quickly. Our delicate balance lands solely with my little sister, Kimber, and the access I have to her. “Emerson! Are you fucking listening or daydreaming?”
His face is tomato red as spittle flies from his mouth while shouting. As much as I want to smirk and laugh in his face, now is not the time. The guys and I are being groomed to replace our fathers, but they don’t know we’re planning on overturning them before that happens.
We want nothing to do with the criminal underbelly they’ve turned their company into. If we act soon, there’ll still be enough of the legitimate business to salvage. However, we didn’tplan on someone else interfering with our plans. Luckily, the destruction of their newest warehouse was our first step, and the vigilante incinerated it perfectly.
“I’m listening.” Simple responses are all I give. Any emotion or weakness has always been used against us. Now that Berkley’s gone, the guys and Kimber are his only weapons against me. He doesn’t dare touch Rowen and Ronan because he’s just as scared of us as he is of Dean, their dad.
“Take the twins and check the warehouse. More than likely everything burned to a crisp, since the fucking police aren’t beating down our door, but be sure. Then check our other locations and ensure operations are in order.” He flops into his chair, running his hand through his graying brown hair. “I should’ve had you guys finalize this building like we originally planned. I don’t know why Dean put Patrick on the systems last minute.”
Another hidden smirk wants to tip my lips, because I know exactly why Dean pulled us off. Ronan reported an informant within our ranks, knowing Dean would reassign us from finalizing procedures of the new building to sniffing out the culprit. Too bad they don’t exist. We wanted the building to be vulnerable when we made our first move.
“Yes, sir.” Not wanting to spend a second longer with him than necessary, I turn to leave.
“Oh, and Emerson, don’t fuck this up. We lost alotof money in this fire. I’d hate for Kimber to have to go alongtimewithout seeing her big brother.” His lower lip pouts out mockingly, tempting me into action. I constantly have to remind myself that we have a plan, and it doesn’t encompass killing my father… right now.
