Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Lucian
I don’t sleep.
Erin is curled into me, her breath brushing against my chest, fragile and warm. Her breaths are steady. But that doesn’t calm the wildfire in my veins.
I have to leave this cabin tonight. And I have to know that she’s going to stay put while I’m gone. Honestly, I’d like to drug her. Tie her to this bed. Lock her in chains. Then, when things are safe again, pop her in my kangaroo pouch and carry her with me everywhere.
Now, I have to go. I know she’s exhausted. I hope she’ll sleep through. And I trust my men.
My arm tightens around her waist. Even unconscious, her body reacts—pressing closer, curling toward my heat like she knows I’ll shield her from every goddamn shadow.
I brush her hair back from her face and press a kiss to her temple. “You’re safe,” I whisper. “I’ve got you, baby.”
But safety is a lie. I don’t want to leave her. Ever. But I have to. I give her one glance over my shoulder. Her face is pale in the moonlight, her dark hair fanned out over the white pillowcase.
God, she’s beautiful.
Bayne’s waiting for me in the Escalade, down the road. I didn’t want the rumble of the engine to disturb her sleep.
“Ready, mate?”
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”
“Except her,” he chuckles darkly.
“Shut up. This is red-hot vengeance. That’s something else entirely.”
“Still red hot though—”
I punch him in the shoulder. Hard. Hard enough to make him steer the car off the road and the tire to catch the gravel. He rights the wheel, still laughing at my ass.
“Wouldn’t bother you if you weren’t in so damn deep.”
“In what?” I ask, instantly regretting it.
“Love.”
“Shut up,” I say, softer this time.
My fists clench. Open. Clench.
“Where to, first,” Bayne asks me.
“Take me to Rory first.”
Bayne turns left, cruising down a gravel road. “He’s being held in a farmhouse not far from here. My cousin’s wife’s grandmother’s old property.”
“Say that three times fast.” I swallow. Hard. “And Caleb?”
Bayne flashes a wicked grin. “The pig shed behind it.”
I laugh. It was Bayne’s idea to make Rory comfortable—keep the older man off his guard.
The farmhouse is the only one for miles, standing solitary amid the vast landscape. Through the darkness, with no artificial lights visible, the sky stretches overhead like a blanket of stars.
Rory sits in a worn armchair, a glass of red wine in one hand, stroking a cat the same color as his flaming orange beard with the other. He sits, like a king on a damn throne. Waiting for me.
Like he already knows what I’m going to say.
I stay in the frame of the door, not wanting to get any closer. “Rory, the red king. We meet at last.”
“Have ye come to make a deal?” he asks.
There’s not even a pause in his hardened expression as he takes the deal. He sacrifices his son for his own freedom. No wonder Caleb turned out to be such an asshole.
The moon, bright and steady, illuminates my path as I walk toward the shed, each step guided by its soft glow in this peaceful, open space.
The air smells clean and fresh. I take one more deep breath before I step into hell.
Caleb’s tied to a chair. Been here since that night. I slam my boot down onto Caleb’s foot and elbow his ribs. He jolts. I grab the knife I’ve hidden in my waistband—Erin’s knife. The wooden handled one she’d been sleeping with under her pillow.
And I stab Caleb in the thigh. “Hello.”
He screams. Blood sprays across me. It’s hot, metallic, and it feels damn good.
I take my time with the knife. Every cut belongs to Erin.
Through clenched teeth, he hisses, “You think you win,” he gurgles with a smirk. “But I already ruined her.”
Bastard.
“You could never come close. She’s twice the man you are.”
Then I carve where he touched and made her watch.
This time, I force him to be the voyeur.
I drag the tip of my knife slowly over his skin till I have the Bachman Brotherhood emblem in his blood.
Then, I make the final cut across his neck. And end him.
I stand there, the smell of blood permeating the air, the sight of him ingrained in me, my boots sinking in pig shit.
Bayne approaches, calm as a wolf in the snow.
“Well,” he mutters, surveying the corpse. “That was messy.”
I let the knife drop to the ground. “I want to end them all. Every fucking one of them.”
“Then you should join the Kings,” he says. His men fill the room. He gestures for them to clean up.
“You should become a Bachman. We could use a man like you.”
“We’re stronger as allies.” He holds out a hand to shake mine, seeing the blood, thinking better of it.
Behind us, they drag Caleb’s body away.
Bayne drapes a heavy arm around my shoulder, guiding me through the moonlit night as the adrenaline slowly leaves my veins. He takes me back to the farmhouse to clean up.
Caleb’s blood stains my hands. I wash them in the small pedestal sink. Once. Twice. A third time.
The water runs red, then pink, then clear.
Still, I feel it.
The ghost of that bastard’s laughter. The smirk on his face as he spat that filth with his last breath—like he thought he could win.
Like he thought he could define her.
He’s dead now.
And it still doesn’t feel like enough.
Bayne pours two fingers of whiskey into a glass and slides it across the large wooden farm table.
“You did what needed doing,” he says, his brogue deep, the words barely decipherable under his thick Shetland drawl. “Don’t let guilt confuse vengeance.”
I down the whiskey. It burns. Not enough.
“I should’ve killed him sooner,” I rasp.
“You couldn’t have.”
“He didn’t break her. He never could have.”
“Still. After this, you’re going to have to put her back together.”
I sip the whiskey, and for once, accept an order from Bayne.
When I get back to Red Shutters, I find her sitting up, knees tucked under her chin. She doesn’t hear me until I’m crouched beside the bed.
Her eyes lift. “Lucian.”
“I was hoping you’d sleep through it.”
“How could I stay asleep? This bed was freezing without you.” She smiles. “You burn hot. You’re like my personal heater.”
My tone goes to coals. “I was certainly burning tonight.”
“I thought that’s where you were.” She looks down.
“Scoot over.”
She slides over, making room for me on the bed beside her. I sit with her, wrapping my arm as tightly around her shoulders as I can. She stays wrapped tight in her little knot. Snuggling in close to my side.
Finally, she asks, “Is it over?”
“He’s gone. Caleb is dead.”
She peers up at me with a shy smile. “You wanted to be the one to do it, didn’t you?”
“You think I was going to let anyone else avenge you?” I shake my head. “Not a chance.”
She throws her arms around my neck with a choked sob. “Thank you, Lucian. Thank you…” Her words fade, but her kiss says everything.
I kiss her back, then kiss the salty tears from her cheeks.
She pulls away to ask, “And my other hostage?”
“We released him tonight. His freedom in exchange for Caleb’s life. Rory swore that there will be no retaliation from the Hoax.”
We hope he keeps his word to prevent a war.
“Can you imagine? Your own son? Even if it is Caleb.” She falls silent, thinking. Then says, “I can’t ever thank Bayne and his men enough. I don’t want to leave them with any mess to clean up.”
She goes quiet again.
I stare over at her. “Are you okay?”
“I worry Rory will come for his grandson. Cass can’t lose Ryan.” She shrugs. “I worry so much that I don’t know what okay means anymore.”
I sit on the edge of the mattress. “You don’t have to be anything right now, Erin. You just have to breathe. You’re safe and they’re safe.”
“Thank you, Lucian,” she whispers in my ear, hugging me tightly. “You didn’t have to do any of this. But you did.”
I hold her tightly. “I wanted to.”
“I should’ve told you sooner,” she whispers. “About what Caleb did to me.”
“I know why you didn’t. It would hurt Cass if she found out. Always protecting those you love.” I tip a finger under her chin, forcing her gaze. “Thank you for trusting me with your secret. I’ll never tell, it’s only yours to share.”
“There’s something else I want to say.” Silence lingers between us. I wait. “I thought maybe,” she says, voice trembling, “if I hurt you… a faceless mafia man bidding on a vulnerable woman, if I took the money and used you, maybe I’d feel in control. That I’d have some kind of twisted revenge.”
I smooth a hand over her hair. “Makes sense.”
“It doesn’t,” she says. “Not really. Especially since you were never supposed to be—you, someone I cared about, someone good. And it turns out you were vulnerable too.”
“Careful now. I’m made of bullets and steel and barbed wire. No emotions.”
She laughs. The sound is sweet.
I move to the floor to kneel in front of her. I take her hands and press them against the sides of my face. She gasps. Her fingers tremble.
“Look at me,” I say.
She does.
“I don’t care how we started. I don’t care if you came to me for revenge, for money, for survival. All I care about is this—” I slide her hand down to my chest, right over my heart. “You’ve got me, now. My money, my protection, my love. Whether you want me or not.”
Her eyes fill. “I want you.”
“Then you have me.”
The kiss is slow at first. Tender. Desperate.
But it builds. It always does. I drag her onto my lap, wrap her legs around me, and kiss her like I’m drinking from the edge of death. Because that’s what it feels like—like I almost lost her.
My hands slide under my flannel shirt, the one she’s claimed as her nightdress—no bra, no panties. Just warm, trembling skin and hard nipples against the soft curve of her breasts.
“You’re mine,” I growl. “No more guilt. No more silence. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she breathes.
I move her to the floor and lay her down gently—only to rip off the shirt a second later.
Her breath hitches.
I kiss the inside of her thigh, biting it softly. “You need to forget him. Forever.”
We break.
We burn.
I push inside her, and her moan is a goddamn hymn.
I take my time, dragging every inch of myself through her tight, slick heat, until she’s sobbing with need.
I pin her wrists. Bend her legs up. Make her feel every stroke. Every kiss. Every inch of my body.
Until she screams my name.
Until she sobs and comes again and again.
Until she forgets Caleb ever existed.
She falls asleep on my chest, fingers curled like a kitten’s.
I don’t sleep.
I’ll never let another man touch her.
I’ll end anyone who tries.
I’ll burn the world before I lose her again.