“Knowing your own darkness is the best method for
dealing with the darkness of other people.”
—Carl Jung
“Bullshit.” Pulling out my phone, I check for missed texts, but there’s nothing.
Felix shrugs. “I called Aubrey. She said you’re the one who sent her out.”
Glaring at the screen in my hand, I flick open the text thread between me and Aubrey.
What the fuck?
Me: I need you to make a supply run. Stella has a list for you. I’ll deal with Emmy. We’re not to be disturbed under any circumstances.
I squeeze the phone as I pace around Felix’s desk. “Pull up the cameras. Emmy’s room first.” He clicks his mouse, then her bedroom fills the screen.
Heremptybedroom.
“Do a quick run of the rest of the house.”
A minute later, Felix glances at me. He shakes his head, then blows out a breath because we both know which are the only rooms without cameras. I’m already charging out of his office when I hear his seat roll back and his footfalls as he chases after me.
My gaze is locked straight ahead, but the only thing I see is my grip crushing Raife’s neck, his eyes bulging out of his fucking head.
“Chill out, man,” Felix says, jogging behind me. “You need to cool the fuck off,thenstrangle him. Otherwise you’re gonna kill him.”
My eyes narrow as I think his words over. Killing Raife sounds remarkably appealing.
My phone vibrates in my death grip. Blinded by rage, I almost don’t bother to check it, but then it goes off again.
Raife: She’s a trooper, this one. And hey, at least someone’s finally fucking her. Amirite?
A two-second video clip below his text plays automatically, on a constant loop, and my perception goes red.
It’s Griff.
Shoving his dick in Emmy’s wide open mouth.
Over. And over. And over.
“Well, shit.” Felix’s grumble over my shoulder is underwater, my ears drowning under the frantic beat of my heart.
We reach Raife’s room, and I shove the door open, storming inside with enough fire in my veins to burn the fucking room down.
“Oh, look who finally came to join—”
Raife’s words die on his tongue as I grab him by the throat and yank him off the foot of the bed. Even with his neck turning red, the asshole smirks.
A rough grunt pulls my attention back to the bed. All my blood rushes to my head, spotting my vision. Griff sits over Emmy’s face, thrusting even now, with his grip forcing her jaw open. Her little body writhes against the mattress, her long hair tangled around her torso, but the fuckers have her tied down.
Slamming Raife’s face into the dresser, I stalk across the room and onto the bed, curl one arm around Griff’s neck, and press the tip of my knife to his gut with the other. He freezes—which is lucky for him because if he so much as breathes too hard, he’s losing blood tonight.
Emmy’s panting fills the air, and I feel her stare on my skin. But I don’t allow myself to look at her. I’m barely seeing clearly as it is.
“You have four seconds to untie her.”
“Fuck yo—”
