“Let’s see how high and mighty you are now, Wylder Buckingham,” Gordon says triumphantly, oblivious to the monster now lurking at his back. “You like to play at being a hero, but you’re a monster. Soon the whole world will see it.”
“I’ve never been a hero,” Wylder says mildly, his hand shooting out to grab Gordon’s wrist. Even from here, I hear the bones break. The gun falls to the floor, but Wylder doesn’t bend to get it. “I’ve always been a monster.”
“Help!” Gordon screams, suddenly wise to the danger. “Help. Guards. Guards!”
Wylder’s dark chuckles raise the hair on my arms. “Oh dear. Perhaps your research wasn’t as thorough as you thought. You see…” Shadows detach from the walls, making their way to me on silent feet. As they draw nearer, I realize it’s Samson and Matthias. “A Buckingham is never alone.”
He holds up the item he palmed from the desk earlier. It’s a pen. A fancy-ass pen with a calligraphy nib on the end. “And we take it personally when one of us is threatened.”
I snap my head away, but it’s not fast enough to avoid the sight of Wylder plunging the pen into Gordon’s eye.
His screams fill the room, but Samson’s big frame blocks the view from me. “Easy. Don’t want you going all faint on us.”
There are some odd sounds coming from behind him. Matthias glances over and winces. “Yeah, definitely don’t look.”
Samson unties the gag from behind my head with uncharacteristic gentleness. “You okay?”
I nod rapidly. “The others?”
“All safe,” he reassures me.
“The guards?”
“All dead,” he says. “Well, all of them in the compound, anyway. Not sure about the external ones.”
A new voice joins us. Harley. “They’re all dead too. Perimeter is secure.”
Cade draws into my view as Matthias goes to work on my restraints. “Harley took them all out from a nearby hill. It was no fun for me at all.”
“You can go help Wylder if you like,” Samson grunts. “Since you seem to be pretty useless as of late.”
Cade turns around and lets out a laugh. “Jesus. I don’t think there’s much left of him to help with. Is he using a stapler?”
“Oh dear,” I say. “I feel a bit woozy. I had no idea staplers could be used forthat.”
“Head between your legs.”
Ansel. Ansel’s here.
“I’ve got you, hun.” He pushes my head down firmly.
Tears drop down my nose, splatting onto the floor. “You came.”
Ansel tuts. “Course we did, you banana. We all did.”
I glance up at the other faces that’ve appeared. Dalton. Jackson. Jules. Wyatt. All staring down at me with expressions ranging from rage, to pity, to sorrow. “Wow. You all came for the brothers.”
“For you too.” Harley reaches over to squeeze my shoulder. “You’re one of us now. None of us would leave you behind.”
That’s it. The last of my restraint leaves as the events of the night slam into me all at once. I dissolve into sobs. Not quiet, dignified ones, but the kind that lead to lots of snot and hiccuping.
“Move, move!” Wylder’s bark has them parting like a sea. Then he’s on his knees before me. “Neo, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
I shake my head, another sob slipping free.
Wylder’s hand strokes through my hair. “Talk to me, baby. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“You all came,” I say stupidly. “You didn’t leave me here.”
