Page 99 of Hellebore

I increase the speed, weaving the car between others that blur past on the rain-slick road. The other masked man picks Lucille up and lays her limp body on the couch, his hands moving to the zipper of her black jeans.

No. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

He starts pulling them down when the door flies open with a violent crash. Easton charges in like a fucking bull and slams into the man, driving him hard into the floor. Enzo grabs the second intruder, yanking him backward. They slam both of them down onto the hardwood with brutal force. Enzo lifts his boot and brings it crashing down on one man’s head. The skull gives way with a sickening crack, blood and brain matter splattering across the floor in a dark, wet spray that coats the wood and the edge of the couch.

I watch as Easton grabs one of Briar’s cups from the table and smashes it against the other man’s face. Glass shatters, slicing deep into his nose and cheeks. Blood pours instantly, mixing with the shards embedded in his skin. Easton grabs the man’s neck with both hands and twists hard. The snap is loud and final. The body goes limp and falls to the floor in a heap.

Shit. I wanted one of them alive, but fuck it.

I watch Easton gently pull Lucille’s jeans back up her legs with careful hands, then lift her unconscious body against his chest. Blood streaks her face and soaks into her clothes from the wounds on her head.

“Hospital,” he orders Enzo, and they both disappear from the cameras.

I keep driving, the wheel tight in my grip.

I text Briar.

“Stay home. Do not leave. The twins are outside.” I lie to make sure she remains where she is.

The road feels endless, but I finally reach Briar’s building.

Fuck. It is already surrounded by cops.

My phone vibrates. It is Easton.

“How is she?” I ask, my hands shaking with barely contained rage. Lucille was never important to me, but she is to Briar. She was the one who kept Briar alive until I could reach her. If Lucille dies, Briar will never recover. She will blame herself forever.

“Surgery. She is in bad shape, Drystan. They do not know if she will make it.” I can hear the cold anger in his tone.

“I will be right there.” I end the call and stare at the flashing red and blue sirens lighting up the street ahead.

Why attack Lucille? Did they think it was Briar? And this happening so soon after I killed Archibald does not feel random.

They knew the cameras were there. It was a message for me. But do they know who “me” is?

I shake my head. There are too many questions. I drive to the hospital, park, and walk into the ER. I see Enzo first. He nods, and Easton steps into view.

“Nothing.” Easton’s tone is low, stripped of its usual ease. “She is still in surgery.”

I drag a hand over my face, every muscle in my body still vibrating with adrenaline. “Did you know she was in danger?”

“No.”

“She was never supposed to be.” The words come out like gravel. “She met Briar after everything happened. There was no connection. No reason for anyone to even know she existed.”

“Until you showed up.” Enzo’s voice cuts through the silence.

I turn toward him.

He is leaning against the wall outside the operating rooms, arms crossed over his chest, dried blood still staining the sleeves of his black shirt. There is nothing calm about him despite the stillness. His jaw is locked so tightly I can see the muscle twitch.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He pushes himself off the wall and closes the distance between us one slow step at a time.

“It means Lucille lived her entire life unnoticed until you walked back into Briar’s.”

My chest tightens. “She became a target because she mattered to Briar.” His eyes never leave mine. “And Briar matters to you.”