Chapter 15
“Oh, fuck. Jer, hide,” Liv says, marching into the large family room as I rest on the couch, clutching a bottle of water.
“I don't hide,” I quip, peeling open my weary eyes.
“Well, in this instance, you might want to because Journey's brothers came with Carter.”
Wonderful. Not only have I had the pleasure of dealing with Olivia's Veritas partner, Carter—the grumpy dick. Now, my wife's brothers are on the prowl after I promised them she'd be safe and so would her money.
I swallow my thick saliva. After losing blood, my entire body feels worn and falling apart. I can barely lift my damn head off the couch without wincing like a pussy.
“You lost my sister?” the big one with tattoos howls, marching into the living room with the calm one on his tail.
Seger, I remember. Tall. Tattooed. He has an attitude and loves to eat. His twin, Zeppelin, walks stoically behind him, eyeing the situation—the serious, composed one. And they both have matching murderous expressions.
Great.
If getting stabbed didn’t send me to my grave. Seger and Zeppelin West will gladly do it.
“After all that fucking talk about keeping her safe, you went and fucking lost her!” he shouts again, cracking his knuckles.
“Don't,” Liv grunts, stepping in front of him. “He was stabbed. Barely survived, okay? This is a mess, but not his fault.”
Pfft. Barely survived? It was merely a flesh wound. I smirk at my joke.
The thing I said about family and wanting to torture them 100% does not include my loyal cousin. She's been nothing but accommodating my entire life, considering my line of work and hers do not mesh well. Me, the criminal, and her, the government agent. She should arrest me and my friends for everything we've done. Throw us in the infamous Veritas jail on an island so secluded that no one ever escapes.
But she doesn't. I guess she loves me, her younger cousin. And I love her in return. In my own way, of course. Besides, we grew up side-by-side in the trenches of our fathers’ iron fists.
Liv’s worse than mine.
“She was kidnapped.” Helpful, I know.
Seger narrows his eyes, ready to retort. Or hit me. He looks like the punch first, talk later kind of guy.
“Shut the fuck up, West,” Carter barks, walking into the room with a laptop tucked under his arm and a coffee in hand. That authoritative attitude fills the room, snapping our spines straight. “Sit the fuck down, and shut the fuck up.”
His scowl could melt the flesh off any mere mortal. Thankfully, I'm immune to his gruffness. Or any gruffness, for that matter.
“You're such an asshole,” Seger grunts, but obeys like a good little boy sitting opposite of me. His moss-green eyes, similar to Journey's, focus on me with a warning infused in them. He's going to murder me. Or he can try.
“Viotto. We meet again.” Carter finds the recliner across from me and sits.
“A pleasure, as always.” Exhaustion weighs me down, but for the sake of everyone else counting on me, I stay awake and conscious. “Now, my wife and second-in-command are missing.”
“I've heard your fucking sob story. You fucking mafia assholes always get yourselves into shit. Like losing your wife and bestie. I, for one, wouldn't let that fucking stand.” He raises a brow, challenging me.
“Shut it, Grumpy.” A petite blonde woman, eyeing me, enters the room with pursed lips.
There's no caution in her gaze, fear, or any sort of feeling I'd expect to see from someone I've never met before. But I like her already. Seeing a grown man with as massive balls as Carter Cunningham shrivel under her glare is funny.
It must be his wife.
His face softens when he looks her up and down.
“Vixen,” he murmurs, shaking his head.
“Well, be nice. Seger is just looking out for his sister.” Her blue eyes find mine, and she softly smiles. “I'm Kaycee. They belong to me.”
“Damn right we do, Angel,” Seger says, pumping a fist.
“Jericho,” I say in greeting, nodding my head. Then I turn my attention back to Carter when Seger scoops his wife onto his lap. “Well, I wasn't exactly the person to lose my goddamn wife. She was taken. Kidnapped. And thrown into the ocean or whatever and taken to Shadow’s island…”
“It's a former island that housed a massive elite resort,” Carter so nicely cuts me off. “Formerly owned by the Apocalypse Society.”
“An elite resort?” I question. “And it still stands?” How strange. From my research, no such building was depicted to be there. Wildlife and bushes. No resort. It’s no wonder Shadow claimed the island as their own and took it over. If there’s a resort there, then they never have to leave.
“Intact, yes. It fucking takes up the entire back part of the island. Plus, a multitude of other buildings are still standing. It's out of fucking business, but it seems a corporation scooped it up fifteen years ago when it was sold.”
“A corporation, you say?”
Oddly, Google didn't provide any of that information. Unless said corporation is so powerful, it wiped its old existence from the map. In that case, Shadow must have someone powerful backing his ventures.
“A corporation named Contelli purchased the entire island and its contents for four million. Ring any bells?” He raises a bushy brow in my direction, expecting me to know all the answers.
“Unfortunately, no,” I hum, rubbing my temples with my tired fingers. If only I could catch a quick nap, but I refuse to close my eyes while the ones I love suffer.
“Don't worry,” he says, offering me a creepy grin that sends shivers down my spine. “I'll know all about them in thirty minutes or less.”
“Reassuring,” I mumble.
“You don't have to worry, Jer. He's an asshole, but he knows what he's doing.” Liv gives me a small pat on the shoulder as she sits next to me on the couch.
“I'll take what I can get. Asshole and all,” I quip.
“You have no fucking choice,” Carter grunts, typing like a madman on his computer.
Liv yelps when Malic reappears, scooping her into his lap, too.
“No touchy.” He glares at me, holding her hands down possessively.
“He's my cousin, for fuck's sake,” she grumbles, attempting to push off him. But it's no use. He's too strong. Too big. And way too controlling to escape from. I'll never understand how he allowed her to be with four other guys, especially when three of them had been associated with his rivals for years.
“No touchy,” he grumbles again, snuggling his face into her neck. “Cousin, no cousin, doesn't fucking matter.”
Gross. Like I'd ever think about my cousin in that way.
I look at the ceiling, letting my tired mind wander. “How have your other husbands slept through all this?”
“Um, they sleep like the dead. They won't wake up. Only this one doesn't sleep,” Liv snorts, gesturing to Malic.
“Sleep is for the weak. Besides, I caught an intruder, didn't I?” He smirks in my direction, dragging his finger along his throat.
“But you didn't catch me, motherfucker.”
My heart stops. I drag my eyes away from Mal’s threats and stare at Arrow in green scrubs, standing in the living room like he belongs there. Tiny specks of blood decorate his outfit.
Everyone turns their attention to him. Some are more alarmed than others. Me, though? Relief soars through my veins, taking the slight pressure off my chest that's been suffocating me since I left Briar Cove alone.
I should never be alone.
“Arrow,” I breathe. “How'd you get here so fast? And why are you here? We were supposed to meet at our rendezvous point.”
It's only been a few hours at best.
He grins, cracking his knuckles with malice. Fuck. Vengeance lives in his light eyes, devoid of life. I've only seen this look when he's about to take extremities for sport. Or if someone wronged him.
“Journey isn't the only one who has a tracker in her ass cheek. You should thank me, too.” As Arrow speaks, Malic nods in agreement, grinning like it’s the most apparent thing on the planet to put trackers into unsuspecting people.
“When?” I groan, wishing I had the energy to get up. I'd hug him if I were the type. Or smack him for planting a damn tracker in me. Of course he did, though. That’s Arrow. Always invasive. Well, until it comes in handy, like now.
My entire plan of meeting him at the cabin falls by the wayside.
“Don't worry your pretty little head about that, Daddy Jer.” Stepping up to me, his shadow looms right above my body. “This is for leaving me behind, asshole.”
I don't have time to see the fist coming toward my face until I'm knocked back with a groan, warm blood leaking out of my nose.
“Arrow,” I growl, holding my face and glaring at his smug reaction. “I couldn't drag you out of the hospital without drawing attention. I already killed two of my father's guards to keep you safe and got stabbed.”
“How the fuck did you get in my house?” Malic barks, narrowing his beady eyes at Arrow.
“I have my ways,” Arrow says with an easy-going grin, transforming him in a matter of seconds from the man ready to murder me to this. “Now, how the fuck are we going to get my Kitten and Shepp back?” he growls, turning to Carter, who smirks knowingly.
“Don't fucking worry. I'm already planning.”
Wonderful.