"That was supposed to be our secret…" His voice is laced with a threat that makes my belly flip. "You are in so much trouble."
"Bring it on, big guy."
49
MATCH, MEET GASOLINE
ELIJAH
Idon't know how the hell Seven managed to fit on the tiny cot with Aurora.
They donotlook comfortable in the slightest, and yet, both of them are still dead asleep while Atticus clicks away on the keyboard, monitors bright in the dim office.
He sips his coffee and opens the video feed from in front of Aurora's apartment in time to see Céline leaving with Ellie for a walk. She spent the night at Aurora's with her last night. I smirk as Ellie jumps excitedly and starts to pull on her lead until Céline scolds her gently and she calms her walk, keeping pace with the older woman, who gives her a treat.
Atticus switches the view, and we see that there's still only one unmarked SUV parked on the street outside. The other one must still be parked outside of the frat. Which means they never saw her leave and likely think she spent the night there.
We should've sent her home in an Uber last night, but none of us was ready to let her go yet and Céline was happy to stay with Ellie, so…
We'll let Ambrose's people think they suck at their jobs and missed her leaving the party when she rolls up on the bus later this morning.
"They didn't find the bodies yet?" I ask in a hushed whisper, careful not to wake Sev and Aurora.
Atticus shakes his head. "No. But they will as soon as someone needs something from the basement. Or when they start to smell."
I grimace.
It's not like Atty to leave things so messy, and I can tell by the tension slowly winding up in his shoulders that he's not exactly thrilled about it, either, but I believe them when they said they were careful. As long as they didn't leave any trace of themselves behind, there's no way it comes back on us.
"We made it look like they did it to each other. Bruised and bloody knuckles, skin under fingernails. The roofies on the floor between them. It'll look like one caught the other trying to do something shady, and they fought. Shit happened. It's not as clean as I'd have liked, but it'll carry."
"Hm." Not bad.
"You're oddly cool with it," he mutters, sipping his coffee.
I don't answer that. I'm not like my brothers. I don't relish taking lives, and I've never been through war. But if I had been in that basement…
If I heard what they were going to do to my angel?
I shiver, and when I close my eyes, a flash of my trembling, red-covered hands hits me like a punch to the chest. Just because I don't relish it doesn't mean I haven't.
I lost count of the number of Ambrose's men I killed when I tried to escape. I tried so many times, but there was once…
Once where I snapped. I strangled a guard and got my hands on his gun and knife. I barely remember that night, but I dorecall I was only thinking of one thing: that I needed to get out. I needed to get home.
There were no bullets left in the gun by the time I made it to the locked exit door, and my hands were so covered in blood that I couldn't even pick the fucking lock to get out.
But the guard I killed nearest that door wasn't quite dead. I hadn't seen their faces when I fired and stabbed, but I could see hers now. She couldn't have been more than thirty. She choked on her own blood, muttering something over and over again, and I didn't realize until they took me back to the room that it was a name.Tommy.
Her husband?Her son?
When I got home, I didn't touch a gun for years. Haunted by the memory of what I became that day. Unable to accept the platitudes offered by my brothers.
To them, the army of a villain is an extension of him. Theychoseto work for him. Chose to help him keep a man prisoner. Listened to my screams and did nothing.
But what if it's more complex than that?
What if they had no choice? Like I did.
