“We don’t have much time,” Raife continues, rocking back on his heels. “Murphy’s people will be here any moment, ready to lock us up or kill us. And you, Lucas, have a pressing choice to make. You can save Sofia and her cousin. Or, you can choose our brotherhood and finally taste the revenge on Murphy we’ve been craving for years.”
Griff’s mouth twists up as he moves to Murphy and encircles the column in a matching thin stream of gasoline.
“But we don’t have time for both.” Raife glances from the crates to Murphy, and he rubs his palms together. “So, what will it be? The rotten girlfriend, or the man responsible for endless suffering?”
I work my jaw, watching the man I’ve called my brother since I was a kid with new eyes. This is low, even for him. “I make my own calls.”
His eyes flash. He whips something out of his pocket and shrugs. “Tell that to your precious Sofia.”
With a single flick, the lit match is on the floor and a low ring lights up around the cages. One more flick, and the ring around Murphy does the same.
“Oh, shit.” The female voice snaps my attention to the doorway, where Aubrey stands with her jaw dropped.
“Get the hell out of here,” I growl, my knife already in my grip. “Now.”
She stares between my knife and the crates then nods before rushing back upstairs.
Emmy’s humming grows louder, her rocking faster. I lift my foot to step toward her, and the flames spread when Griff pours another short stream of gasoline. I freeze, my vision clouding with fury.
“My bad,” Raife murmurs. “Forgot to mention that every step you take in that particular direction earns the girls another dose of gasoline, closer to their crates.”
When Griff tips the container to add more, I charge.
He stumbles back at the impact, the open container dropping from his grasp and sliding across the room until it crashes against the wall. The spilled petrol branches out and connects with the ring around Murphy. Flames shoot in a thick line from Murphy to the container before erupting in tall bursts along the left wall.
I knock Griff to the floor and slam his head against it, trying to knock him out instead of having to use my knife. He curses and grabs my neck, squeezing hard before rolling us over so I’m on my back. A sharp spasm works up my spine. He tightens his stranglehold, and my lungs close up. When I’m on the brink of passing out, I use all my strength to drag my knife across his stomach.
“Fuck.” He releases me to clutch the wound. Blood seeps through his shirt and onto his hand. “Just let the bitch burn, you pussy!”
His eyes widen, and before he can make a move, I jump to my feet, yanking him up and lugging him closer to the column. The fire is climbing, but the excess chains dangling from the knot behind Murphy are long enough to reach safely. I shove Griff onto the floor so he’s sitting upright then secure them around his torso and arms, less than a foot from the flames.
“Fuck you,” he spits, grimacing as the metal digs into his wound.
“Pretty sure you’re the one getting fucked.”
I wipe the sweat from my forehead and glance at Raife when my phone dings again. He’s clenching his teeth while he watches Griff, but he makes no move to interfere.
He’s too stubborn. And too naïve if he still thinks I’ll play to his tune.
Checking my phone, my gaze shoots across the smoke-fogged screen as quickly as possible.
Felix: Get the hell out. Murphy’s men are in the front house. Ten of them. All packing.
I spot Murphy from the corner of my eye, looking beautifully helpless. After years of orchestrating everything Katerina did, then getting away with it and living like the god he thinks he is, he deserves to fucking die the most painful death. He’s practically moving my legs for me when I shift toward him. Then Emmy’s form flashes in my mind, bound and shaking within a low ring of fire, and a stronger force urges me to go the opposite direction.
Shit.
Revenge is all my soul knows. It’s the only thing I’ve lived and breathed for almost as long as I can remember. With a painful swallow, I tear my feet away from him. It kills me, two different instincts seizing my bones. I pull at my hair, trudging toward Emmy because she fucking owns me.
A chuckle rips through it all, and my movements slow when my gaze lands on Raife’s.
Shaking my head, I’m tempted to change course and smash his face in. But he’s a distraction, and if I let him win, I won’t get Emmy out in time. Instead, I position my knife, aim, and throw.
Raife’s hands shoot up to block his face. “Fuckingfuck!” He slowly lowers his arms, peeking to his left where the knife landed in the wall, two inches from his ear. “Well, shit.” Panting through coughs, he wipes his sweat-drenched forehead with the back of his hand, then slinks along the wall till he’s standing in the doorway.
I reach Emmy in the same moment Raife glances at the crates, the fire, then fucking smirks. “Tick tock.” And the asshole is gone.
My fists clench, a snarl working up my throat.
