Chapter Seventeen #2
“They’re going to try to break into the Payne estate.” The man’s words pour out of him in a rush. “Tonight was a ruse; you’re right. They wanted you gone, so they could break in. I don’t know why. I was supposed to double back and help them.”
My blood turns to ice.
There aren’t enough men at the estate to hold off an attack.
Oliver and Olivia are being taken there, but a quick look in Carlisle’s direction ensures they’ll change route.
Fuck.
I’m halfway across town, and getting to London in time will be nearly impossible.
Other than Katia and a few men stationed outside, everyone else is spread thin.
She’s a sitting duck because you weren’t paying attention. How could you not have seen this coming?
“Send as many men back to the estate as you can,” I yell to Carlisle. “Get in touch with the others. Have them move into formation. Nobody better fucking get into the house.”
Abruptly, I turn to the man who is watching us through his good eye. Wordlessly, I slice his binds, and his fingers immediately move to rub the angry red on his wrists. He rises to his feet and clears his throat. There’s a low pounding in my ears as I turn my back on him and stride back to the car.
“You’ll call off the men watching my girlfriend, right? I kept up my end of the bargain, and I’ll make it up to—”
I wheel around and shoot him between his eyes before he can finish. His mouth forms a surprised O, and he slumps to the ground, blood pooling around him. I pause to sheathe my gun and slide into the back of the car. Before we pull away, I spot one of our men dragging the man’s body away.
Time drags as my driver weaves in and out of traffic, honking and with tires screeching.
My fingers fly over the keyboard on my phone, and through the window, I spot my father’s car, tearing in the opposite direction.
One of our safehouses has already been set up for him and my siblings, and I know I’ll get an earful for not joining them.
But I have to get to London, consequences be damned.
Katia might be one of the best weapons in my arsenal, but even she can’t stave off an attack and protect London.
We race through a red light, earning a few disgruntled honks from the drivers.
Suddenly, the car skids to a halt, and I lurch forward.
When I spot the line of cars ahead of us, I frown and shove the car door open.
Then I pull the driver out, and he stumbles onto the street, his eyes widening in fear.
Without looking at him, I get into the driver’s seat and pull on my seatbelt.
Then, I place my hands on the wheel and back out of the tight spot until I’m out.
I see red as I muscle through alleyways and down side routes until the estate looms in the distance.
The gates are open, and I press harder on the gas.
I’m out of the car before it comes to a stop, my gun ready.
Carlisle and a few other men follow closely behind, and my heart sputters when I see the front door ripped from its hinges.
A few of the guards are lying on the floor, gasping for breath.
I step over them and gesture to Carlisle, who relays an order to the guards.
As they spread out, Carlisle inches closer to me, and we creep up the stairs.
A few more bodies are waiting at the top, but no one I recognize.
I stop to slit a few of their throats.
I taste bile as I reach my room and see the blood spatters on the floor and the door. I do a quick sweep of the room and find Carlisle taking care of another man when I emerge. As I work to calm my racing heart, I hear a scream that sends me sprinting down the hallway.
Katia is standing with her back to the wall, fighting off three men.
Her movements are quick, barely flashes in the dark, but one look at the gaping wounds on her thigh and arm lets me know that she won’t hold out for much longer.
I inch forward, shooting one man in the back of the head.
Carlisle drags another one back by the scruff of his neck and ends him before the man’s face finishes registering his surprise.
Katia sticks a knife into the remaining man’s stomach and twists.
He falls to the floor with a howl as she swats away a few errant locks of hair.
“London is fine,” Katia replies gruffly. “She’s in one of the rooms with the door locked.”
I nod. “How much damage did—”
A loud crash has us all whipping around, our weapons drawn.
Down the hallway, a dark-haired man’s eyes widen, and seconds later, he hits the floor with a thud.
London is standing behind him, holding onto the remains of a vase, her chest rising and falling unevenly.
She glances from me to Katia and back again, her mouth moving soundlessly.
I step over the man’s inert form and reach for her, and she immediately releases the remaining piece of glass.
Once my arms close around her, and the warm, familiar scent of her washes over me, something in me cracks. I take in a smattering of bruises on her arm and a few to the side of her face. I pull her against me before turning to face Katia and Carlisle.
“Secure the parameter. Kill everyone except for one. I don’t care who, just have him ready in the basement.”
They disappear, leaving London and me alone in the hallway.
I tug her behind me as more of my men pour in and pop into and out of the rooms. When I’m sure my room is secure, I pull London in and lock the door behind us.
I steer her into the bathroom and wait for the shower water to heat up.
While it does, I kneel in front of her and run a warm towel over her skin.
“I’m fine,” she whispers.
I stop at the bruises close to her throat and push back against the red-hot anger bursting through me. “You had to fight off some of them?”
London smiles. “Katia is a good teacher.”
I pull her to her feet and push her shirt over her head.
Then, I reach for her yoga pants and leave her clothes in a heap on the floor.
She swallows as I run my fingers down her bare skin, and goosebumps break out.
I reach for the towel again, and London shivers as my fingers inch up, skim the waistband of her panties, and linger near her heaving chest.
“They shouldn’t have been anywhere near you,” I whisper. “I was so focused on punishing them for going after Oliver and Olivia that it didn’t even occur to me that they’d try something—”
She pushes herself up to her toes and presses a finger to my lips. “Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known.”
I meet her gaze. “I should have. I don’t even know how you’re still here.”
“Because I want to be.” London runs her fingers over my face and stops at my lips. “When are you going to accept that I’m not running away?”
She reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra, allowing her breasts to spill forward. Then she hooks a thumb through her panties and pulls them to her ankles. After she kicks them off, she reaches for me, and I crush her against me.
Her mouth is soft as she surrenders herself to me.
My fingers move down her body and pause at her hips. Then I hoist her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. She moans, and it sends desire coursing through me. I yank the curtain open, and London’s hands move to my pants. She unbuckles the belt, and her fingers move inside to reach for me.
I growl into her mouth, lean back, step into the shower and set her down.
She helps me out of my clothes, and the look in her eyes is almost enough to make me come undone.
Adrenaline pumps through me as I kiss a path down to her navel.
Then, I throw one leg over my shoulders and angle myself so I’m nestled between her thighs.
London’s breathing sharpens as she shoves her wet hair from her eyes and looks at me.
I don’t look away as I trace a path along the inside of her thighs.
Using my tongue, I lick a path along her wet crease, and she bucks against me.
London throws her head back and says my name.
I reach for her other leg and press her against the wall.
My tongue darts in and out of her over and over, alternating between establishing a rhythm and enjoying her sweet taste.
Her body writhes as her fingers thread themselves through my hair, sending waves of pain and pleasure through me.
London heaves a shaky breath as I rise to my feet.
We reach for each other at the same time, our mouths colliding as I press her against the wall.
London runs her hands down my bare back and squeezes my behind.
I spin her around, so her back is pressed against me.
London glances back at me with a wild-eyed look in her eyes.
It makes me want her that much more.
The feeling grows as I bend her over and thrust into her from behind.
I ease in and out at a slow, even pace, but soon London’s whimpers unleash the last of my control. I dig my nails into her hips, and press the other into the small of her back. Then, I change my pace, slamming into her in a frenzy.
It’s still not enough to drive away the fact that I almost lost her.
London continues to chant my name, a plea and prayer on her lips as I drive into her.
She meets each thrust with a buck until I lose all sense of time and space.
Too soon, the release within me reaches a boiling point, and I throw my head back to shout.
Pleasure rips through me as my body jerks, and spots dance in my field of vision.
The tightness in my chest unfurls. As I come down, I realize the hot water is still cascading around us, and London is looking at me.
Her eyes are soft and unflinching.
She reaches for the bar of soap and runs it over my glistening skin.
Once she’s done cleaning me, I return the favor, paying attention to every curve and dip of her body until she’s shivering again.
I switch off the water and scoop her into my arms. Water drips on the floor and forms a path into the room where I set her down on the dresser chair.
Then I dart back into the bathroom and return with a towel.