Chapter 45
Sounds of scraping metal fill the otherwise silent dungeon beneath The Compound as I prepare my tools for, hopefully, one last conquest. Normally, I wouldn’t meditate on the punishment I’m about to dole out.
I don’t take pleasure in this kind of violence.
But, today, I make an exception. Today is the day Clive Cunningham dies.
Killian and Milo have taken one of the planes and are on their way to Montana now to retrieve him.
While there’s no cell service down here, I expect they should arrive at any moment.
And, in just a few short hours, the process will begin.
Although, perhaps, it has already begun.
With this one last bath in blood, I hope to extract the darkness from my soul just as much as I plan to vanquish the demon that has haunted Darcy for far too many years.
It’s unlikely that this will be my last kill, but, perhaps, it will be the last time I have to summon the parts of me I don’t like to protect the ones I love.
A final act of war for long-deserved peace.
She didn’t want to sleep a night with him in the same city. She wanted to know that when she saw me next, he’d be dead, and she’d be free. It was a compromise I could not deny her, which is the reason for the preparation now. I want every second with that sick bastard to be agonizing.
I have ropes laced with acid to mimic every time he choked Darcy with uncaring hands.
I have knives of different shapes to mark him the same way he marked her.
I have a bag to plummet him into darkness, like when he locked Darcy in that closet.
I even drilled nails into the walls in random places so he can feel what Darcy felt when he threw her repeatedly into a wall so hard that the decoration hanging there fell and the nail behind it punctured her skin.
Anger rises in me as I think back over all the stories Darcy has told me, all the pain he inflicted on her flesh and soul, all the times he not only beat but invaded her body and spoke harsh lies to her.
There is no justice, no vengeance that will remove the stain of him from her mind.
I know that. But this is something and then, there will be nothing, nothing left of Clive Cunningham but ashes swallowed by the Mississippi.
Though, as my eyes find the metal pipe with spikes on all sides, far too large for his rectum, I suspect he’ll be begging for death by the time I’ve finished with him.
Yes, it will take every ounce of darkness inside me to deliver this sentence.
But, on the other side is freedom—freedom for us both.
It’s then that the sound of footsteps draws my attention to the stone stairwell leading to the main floor of The Compound.
I place my knife and sharpening tool on the table with all the other weapons.
A moment later, Damon appears with anxious eyes and a rigidness to his shoulders that suggests something is wrong.
“What’s happened?” I ask, clenching my fists.
Damon sighs as he shoves his hands into his pockets and lowers his eyes to the ground.
For once, he appears nervous. That thought casts a chill upon my skin.
It could be anything. It could be an update from the guys or a problem with Aidan.
It could even be more cartel chaos. But, for Damon to be nervous—either because of the news or in anticipation of my reaction to the news—my guess is, this hits closer to home.
“Damon, what’s going on?” I ask again, losing my patience.
He looks at me. “The guys made it to the cabin, but he wasn’t there.”
“And?” That’s frustrating, mostly because it delays my plans. But that’s not all. It can’t be.
“What was there was a folder from Serena Santos, postmarked after her death. Her contingency plan to fuck you from the grave, I suppose. It detailed Darcy and Delilah’s whereabouts. There were pictures and addresses of frequented locations, including your house.”
Rage courses through my veins, along with confusion.
Damon is quiet as I pace and process. Process, that’s what I need to do instead of punching the stone wall I know won’t give an inch.
I’d assumed Serena only found out about Darcy upon my visit to Mexico.
I figured she’d been having Gabriel watch me ahead of every visit, trying to see if there was anything she could use against me in our negotiations.
That, or it’d been so long since our last meeting that she was spooked and wanted to make sure I was still an ally when Gabriel discovered my relationship with Darcy.
But, for her to have this contingency plan in place—which included her learning both Darcy’s identity and Clive’s—she would’ve had to have known about Darcy and Delilah for weeks, if not months ahead of time.
She didn’t enact the plan to take Darcy away from me sooner, because she was hoping to use her against me.
But, if that’s true, then there’s another player on the board.
There’s someone else in New Orleans watching me, us.
And now, this oversight may cost me the woman I love.
All of this is in addition to the very real fact that Clive Cunningham is on his way and if he finds Darcy before I do…
“When was the postmark? What day?” I ask, freezing in my tracks. Damon glances at his phone, zooming in on the pictures Killian and Milo sent him.
“It was four days ago.” I pinch my eyes closed and immediately run toward the stairs. “What? Gio? What am I missing?” Damon trails after me as I take the steps two at a time.
“That’s enough time for him to have made it to New Orleans,” I yell over my shoulder.
As I reach the top of the stairs, I shove open the iron gate with anger and fear fueling my strength. It slams against the stone wall of the building, drawing Zane and Xander’s attention as I angrily stalk through the courtyard toward the iron staircase leading to our surveillance room.
“Okay, Gio, take a breath,” Damon says as he waves for Zane and Xander to join us. They do, following behind the two of us. The anxiety and tension pulsating between us makes me feel suffocated and like I could vomit. I grab my black t-shirt and air it out as my body temperature rises.
“No one is getting past the security system at the estate,” Damon continues.
“Darcy and Delilah are safe behind the gates, and we can all be there in an hour to watch after them. I can even send Zane and Xander there now on the bikes. Forty minutes tops. They’re going to be alright.
” It’s then that Damon places his hands on my shoulders as I fumble with my key to the surveillance room, and I lose it.
Spinning around, I shove him off me. He stumbles into Zane and Xander.
All of them are quiet with wide eyes as I feel myself panting.
As Damon steadies and stands, my heartbeat increases, and my ears ring so loudly I can hardly hear myself when I say, “They aren’t at home.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, knowing I can’t call Darcy to warn her.
One, it’ll scare her. Two, I can’t even tell her to meet me at home because Clive could be there waiting.
That’s if he doesn’t already have her. My only option right now is to track her and find her, which I can do using either her cellphone or the necklace I gifted her upon our return to New Orleans.
I got Delilah a bracelet to match and told them both to always wear them when off-property.
They don’t know what they’re for and I hoped I’d never have to use them for this purpose.
Still, knowing I can find them does nothing to steady my heart or my hand as I again try to maneuver the key through the lock.
It’s then that Damon gently pushes my arm down and opens the door with his own key.
He knows the fear tearing at my insides.
He’s felt it. I know, as it inches its way through my veins, nerves, and bones, it’s the kind of fear that leaves a lingering impression.
“We’ll find them, Gio. We protect our own, remember?
Without hesitation.” As he repeats my own words back to me, I find the strength to steady my breathing and calm my mind. I nod.
I once lost it because of my concern for Darcy’s safety.
And it was only in the knick of time that I got to her before something terrible happened.
Fate may not be so kind to us this time.
I can’t afford to lose it, not for a moment longer.
I have to be strong, calm, and collected.
I have to be Gio Moretti—without hesitation.