Chapter 14
Blood drips from my stab wound straight into my shoe, pooling there in my sock. No one likes wet socks in shoes. Particularly shoes filled with blood.
It's fucking annoying.
Even more annoying is that the suture didn’t seem to take. It’s not Lori’s fault. It's probably all mine. I’ve been on the damn run, getting places quickly without taking special care of what Gerard did to me.
Now, I'm paying for it.
My fucking eyes droop when the car I stole three hours ago sinks to the bottom of the ocean after I forced it off one of the tall bluffs.
Now, no one will ever find it. Me. Or my blood that stains the carpets. My only regret is having to leave my precious car on the side of the road as it roasted under the flames, incinerating it for good.
My goddamn car didn't deserve that.
But neither did Journey.
Oh, the things I do for love.
I'd sacrifice the world. Burn it to pieces—just to have her back in my arms. Even if it means losing my fucking car. My blood. My goddamn sanity.
Anything for my wife.
I suck in a breath, marching my way back toward my cousin's house. Conveniently, she lives near the bluffs on an extensive property a mile from where I stand. But in the same breath, it is inconvenient because she lives in a gated community with excellent security.
Just one more obstacle to climb over.
My muscles weaken the more I walk. My brain swims in a fog, producing hallucinations of my wife standing at my side. Her voice rings in my ears, begging me to find her. Save her. Hold her and fuck her again.
Everything aches when I climb over the tall black iron fence, which keeps people out and scares them away, but it does nothing to deter my determination.
Get to Olivia's. She's my only hope of getting Journey out of the hell she is undoubtedly enduring.
With caution, I move through the shadows toward their massive estate. Their three-story mansion looms in front of me. Dark. Foreboding. And secured by the best security in the land.
“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice echoes in my ear just as the sharp end of a knife pushes into my throat.
Case in point—the best security is the resident psycho, who is alive and well.
“Malic,” I say through a breath. “Wonderful to see you again.” It's sarcasm, of course.
Malic, or Maniac, as he seems to be called, is anything but rational, living up to his nickname. He makes Arrow look tame as fuck. He's unpredictable. Obsessive. And somehow got my level-headed cousin to fall in love with him. Now that I think about it, it was probably the stalking he did.
“I'm hoping you at least have clothes on while you're outside,” I quip.
The amount of times that man has shown me his dick because he refuses to wear clothes is astronomical.
“I'm not torturing anyone…” he chuckles softly. “Yet.”
Oh, goody.
“No need to torture family.”
“Family are the ones who deserve torture the most,” he tuts, clicking his tongue.
Facts.
“Can't deny that. But I'd like to plead my case, at least.” I side-eye him, and he grins. Shirtless, of course. His buff, Viking-like body towers over me—a beast of a man I'd never want to piss off. Covered in tattoos and piercings. Probably in places I don't want to imagine.
“Beg me,” he says in a low voice. “Or My Liv will be down a cousin.” He grins again, showing off all his teeth. “No matter how much I like you.”
Like me? For fuck's sake. If this is how he shows affection, I'd be terrified to see how he treats someone he hates.
“I need to speak with her. It's urgent. My wife was taken from me, and I need Liv to help me,” I grit out.
Just like that, Malic removes the knife from my throat and hums. Sometimes, it pays to know which buttons to press on someone. If there's something I know about Malic, it’s that he's obsessed with my cousin, and if he lost her—he'd kill everyone in his way.
“A missing wife? The one you married without her consent?”
Fucking Olivia. She'll punish me for the rest of my life for taking what I needed.
“That would be the one. My father has done something with her. My tracker…”
“Ohhh, the good old tracker trick! Where'd you put it?” He grins at that, slapping me on the back with force. “I put mine in Olivia's clothes. Oh, her phone. Then, buried in the back of her neck. You can never be too careful. Especially when she was trying to run from me.” He shakes his head like memories are floating through his mind.
I grunt, gritting my teeth. “In her ass cheek beneath our claim.” My head swims, and the world slightly tilts from the loss of blood currently seeping onto his porch.
“You're bleeding,” he states, leaning down to lift my pant leg. “Oh, you were shot? Or stabbed? How fun!”
Fun. He says it like being shot or stabbed is a dream come true. Maybe for him, but I’d rather not have a bullet or knife go through my flesh.
“Unfortunately,” I grumble when he stands tall in front of me.
“Care to explain the wound?” he asks with a grin, grabbing my upper arm. “Anyone on your tail? Follow you here? Because I'd like a fun game of manhunt.” Of course he would. He’s like a dog with a bone. Give him a bad person to chase down, and he’ll eliminate them in two point five seconds.
“My father stole my mansion and my freedom. So, I stole my car. His guards attempted to shoot me, and then I was stabbed. Don’t worry, though. I ended his pathetic life. No one followed me here.”
I know for a fact that I may have my phone, but it's untraceable. Thanks to Olivia. I knew this would be useful for all three of us one day. Gabriel can attempt to track us down all he wants, but it won't matter. He'll never find us. Not to mention the AntiEyes on our phones from the moment we semi-initiated.
I'm nothing more than a rag doll behind Malic as he drags me through the house and toward the kitchen, where he stops abruptly, picks me up, and sets me on the countertop like a child.
“Need an assassin?” Malic asks, rifling through the lower cabinets, humming a tune. “I'm an excellent shot. I can get him right through the eyeball.”
“Maybe,” I say through a sigh, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. “Except he's surrounded by extra security. And up to something.” That's an understatement. He's planning something major, and I've yet to unearth it.
“You underestimate my skills.” He grins, holding up a first aid kit.
“That's where you're wrong,” I grunt when he rips open the fabric of my jeans, tearing it at the ankle to my knee. “Fuck,” I hiss when he puts the tip of his finger into the bloodied wound through the bandage Lori administered, rifling around until more blood pours out. I grit my teeth, focusing through the pain like the family trained to do.
“Hurt?” he asks with that crazy grin of his, watching as my fingers flex around the edge of the countertop.
“Like a kitten scratch,” I wheeze.
It hurts like a bitch. My wound throbs. At least, I thought it was hurting until he poured straight vodka on it. Where he pulled it from, I do not know.
But fuck did that burn. I'm ready to jack him in the jaw for all the extra pain he's caused, but he steps back, clapping his hands.
I fucking hate this man. Where the fuck is his keeper, Wilder? I swear to God…
“Well, you're in luck, Old Chap. It looks like the wound is clean and went straight through the other side.”
Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. That is what I want to say. But I'm almost positive he'd injure me further. He's a goddamn sadist like that. Pain is the only thing he knows and enjoys. Inflicting. Receiving. Whichever, he's down for it. His childhood… I internally shake my head, dispelling the thoughts.
“Wonderful.” It's all I can say as he gets to work fixing my leg again by taking off the bloodied bandage and examining the wound.
“What…” My head snaps toward Olivia, stopping at the threshold in nothing more than a robe tied tightly around her body. Confusion warps her expression at the sight of blood lining Malic's hands and me sitting in her kitchen. “The fuck?” she murmurs, shaking her long brown locks from side to side.
“Your cousin had a minor mishap. Got himself stabbed,” Malic informs her with way too much glee.
“You're way too happy about that, Mal,” she grumbles, marching forward.
I can tell the moment she puts on her Veritas persona. Her face hardens. Arms fold over her chest.
“What happened?”
Determination twitches through her as she leans down and examines my wound, too. Or what's left of it. I grunt again when Malic stabs me with a needle and begins sewing up my cut his way.
“Fuck,” I huff, sucking in a breath.
My training be damned. It hurts like a motherfucker because the motherfucker doing it doesn't give a damn about injuring me.
“Uncle?” she breathes, searching my eyes.
“Off the fucking rails,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
“That's why he's here, Crumpet,” Malic hums to Olivia with hearts in his eyes. “Took his wife…”
“Everyone,” I say, sucking in a breath. “My father removed everyone from my life with the flick of his wrist. Locked me in a room to ensure a marriage. He's fucking insane.”
“Journey?” she asks, furrowing her brows. “She's…”
I swallow hard, pulling out my phone. “This is why I'm here, Liv, as much as I enjoy your company. Journey is missing, and this is the only clue I have.”
Journey’s dot blinks on the screen as I stare intently at it. Wishing I could reach through the fucking phone and pull her to me.
My desperation reaches new heights when Liv lifts the phone from my hand, staring at the tiny dot representing the only woman who holds my heart in her palm.
No one will ever replace her. Or be her. She is my one and only. I have nothing left to burn for if I don't have her.
“She's…” Olivia's brows furrow when her gaze whips to me. “She's on an island…”
“Tropical?” Mal asks, stepping back when I glare at him. “Oh, maybe she's sipping margaritas.”
“Shut up,” Liv murmurs. “Have some decency in a situation like this. Imagine if I was on some unknown island.” She raises a brow.
Malic frowns. “Well, when you put it like that. I'd get stabbed, too.”
Unfeeling bastard.
“Research suggests it's an uncharted island. But before that, she was here,” I say, pointing to the ocean beside the island. “It belongs to Shadow.”
“The ocean?” Liv asks with furrowed brows until her eyes snap to mine. “Shadow?” she breathes out.
“The ocean beside Shadow’s island. Along with Shepp, at least according to Aiden,” I confirm. “Arrow is in a coma, hopefully waking soon. And my father is on a power trip. Took over the mansion.” And life is shit and dismal without them. A literal black hole opens inside me, consuming every ounce of my feelings until they disappear. If I'm not careful, I'll become more of a monster than I already am.
The sooner my family is back as one, the sooner Gabriel Viotto will go down to the depths of hell.
Olivia sighs, rubbing her temple. “I heard some major rumblings through the grapevine about your father's tower and an attack by Shadow. My agents were sent to investigate the aftermath and keep it quiet from national and local news.”
“Shadow?” Mal perks up. “Like…?”
“No. He's dead, remember?” Liv says, giving him a firm look.
“Shadow is a mystery in Briar Cove. They sprung up a few years ago. And, Liv…” Her eyes return to mine. “My mother returned in all the chaos.” Because in my gut, I know she is the fucking chaos. Why? I’m not fucking sure. Or how she fits into it all. She’s done something to my father. I know that much.
But her current motivations make my head pound against my skull.
“Grace? How? What? She was…” Liv's voice quivers at the mention of my mother's name.
She knew her better than I did, having been around longer than I had.
“Dead? Missing? Apparently not. There's something odd about her, too. I just can't put my finger on it.” It's beyond odd. Someone doesn't just wander out of Shadow's grip without reproductions.
“Don't worry, Jer. We'll sort this out, okay? I'll call Carter. He'll know exactly how to track this and look into the island.”