He pins me with a very different look from the soft one he gave me before. Like he can see all through me, every thought, every random dream. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
I fight to keep my hands from my belly. “N-no.”
“Hmm.” He moves closer, his hands stroking from my shoulders to my sides. I suck in a breath. He can’t know. All four of my men have been touching me like this ever since they began finishing inside me.
“You are my beautiful little love,” Eli says and the note in his voice scares me. Not hard exactly, but sharp.
“Thank you,” I whisper, wishing I was better at lying.
Eli’s finger lifts my chin, draws my gaze to his. “There is nothing you can do or say that will change how I feel for you.”
Something inside me glows, as though what’s happening will not, cannot be denied. I take a deep breath. “Elliot?”
Eli’s eyes are steady, serious, as fixed on me as the sunlight on the moon. “Yes?”
A knock on the door makes us both laugh.
“Saved by the returning conquerors,” Eli says, striding to the entrance. “But you will tell me, as soon as—”
He throws open the door and time freezes.
It’s not Doc, Bobby, or Adriano. It’s not a cop or a stranger. It’s Mr. Parker, in bright red snow gear with a gun in his hand.
“Outside,” he says. “Both of you. Now.”
Chapter Eleven
January Whitehall
“I’ll give youcredit, Morelli. You were hard to find, but we got there in the end.” Mr. Parker grins over the barrel of his gun, gesturing us forward. Eli and I move onto the front steps, our hands raised. Time seems to have slowed down. I can see every swirling flake of snow, hear every creak of wood under our feet, the male shouts from the distant woods. I can’t believe we opened the door without checking who it was. We’ve grown relaxed as the weeks passed and now here we are, on the edge of another nightmare.
The boys, I think.Where are the others?
There’s a van waiting in the snow, a huge grey one like the type we stole from outside the wedding, and a dozen men standing around it, holding huge guns.
“Have you been expecting this?” Mr. Parker drawls. “Or did you really think you could hide away forever?”
Eli says nothing, the contempt pouring from him like waves. There’s no fear, no panic, only pure unadulterated disgust. Mr. Parker tries to hold his gaze, but he fails and glances away. “Get in the fucking van, Morelli.”
Eli gives a half-laugh. “Why would I agree to that?”
“Because your men are still alive, but it doesn’t have to stay that way.”
“Proof?”
Mr. Parker pulls out his phone and hits the screen. “Bronson. Proof of life.”
A second later he shows Eli the screen. It’s a photo of Doc, Bobby, and Adriano sitting in the snow. Blood is dripping from Bobby’s hairline and one of Adriano’s eyes has swollen shut but they’re alive. Doc looks completely unharmed but totally different. Like someone was wearing a Halloween costume of his skin. His eyes are open, his irises ice blue against white. His teeth bared.
“That could be an old photograph. They could still be dead,” Eli says with a coolness that once would have shocked me. Since my time at Velvet House, I know I’ve changed—there is steel in my soul. I am standing silently; I am not crying. I am in control.
“Fair point.” Mr. Parker dials his phone again. “Get them to sing, Bronson.”
Eli and I listen as Doc, Bobby, and Adriano are made to grunt in turn. My stomach flips and I press my hands to my belly, willing myself not to react. They’re alive. They’re all still here, which means everything can still be okay.
“What exactly is your plan, Zachery?” Eli says in that same cool, teacher-pointing-out-your-mistake voice. “Are you going to kill me on my doorstep?”
“My plan is you’re getting in the fucking van.” Mr. Parker points his gun at the vehicle. “Hurry along now.”
