Chapter 16
sixteen
“Let’s continue this later, huh?” Without a backward glance, I stride out of the restaurant, ignoring the people calling my name. This is more important. The revenge I’ve been searching for is at my fingertips.
The street outside is nearly empty save for a few pedestrians.
An engine revs to my left, tires squealing as it brakes to a sudden stop in front of me. The window slides down. Betrayal sears my soul when she smiles at me and winks from behind the wheel of her Aston Martin.
“Come and get me, big sis,” she taunts before revving the engine again.
Snarling, I rip my father’s car key from my jean pocket and dart to it before she can get too far ahead of me. It is pure luck that I insisted on driving myself to the restaurant.
The door opens automatically at the push of a button, sliding up and out of the way.
Once I press the keyless ignition, it closes, and I am off like a shot.
The Ferrari F60 America glides through the slick, wet streets of Portland with ease.
Its two-seater capacity, compact body allows it to take the sharp turns of the city, weaving through traffic smoothly.
Kenzi manages to continually stay out of range. She is leading me somewhere. Probably a trap, but I don’t care. This is my chance. Matthias is dead and she is the reason why. I don’t care if she’s been tricked into it or is ready to apologize.
All I want is for her to bleed like my heart bleeds every damn day.
Rain begins to pour from the open sky. The Ferrari’s wipers work overtime as I follow Kenzi’s trail down a long dirt road just outside of the city limits. Despite the mud beneath the tires and several near wipeouts, I only inch the gas pedal down farther.
Kenzi disappears from my sight. Not that it matters. There is only one place this road leads. An abandoned barn surrounded by a field of trees.
Because that isn’t creepy at all.
“Bit dramatic, don’t you think, Kenz?” I holler over the howling wind, the rain instantly soaking me as I step out of the car. Unease blitzes through me when I peek at the depreciating structure before me. Summoning what little bravado I possess, I stalk toward the dilapidated building.
“Come on, lil sister,” I mock once I step inside the open door that leads inside. It smells of mold and musty hay, the air hanging heavy with disuse. “You got me all the way out here.” I let my hand rest on the gun tucked into the small of my back. “You just gonna hide?”
The echoing laugh is mordacious and dark. It makes my skin crawl and my jaw clench.
“You used to like to play hide and seek.” Her voice is distant, and the capacious space makes it hard to pinpoint where it is coming from. “Remember?”
I roll my eyes. Oh, I remember all right. The twins knew the inside and outside of the house. The secret hallways, the servants’ wings, everything. I spent hours looking for them only to realize Kendra had taken them out for something special while leaving me home.
Yep. There is no forgetting memories such as that.
“That’s not exactly how I remember it,” I return. “But let’s not quibble over such trivial things.” Not that those memories are trivial. They are branding. A reminder where I truly sat in that family growing up. “Why don’t you just come on out. Let me shoot you. Get this over with nice and quick.”
More laughter.
“I always knew there was a mentally unstable psycho lurking just beneath that ridiculously na?ve facade of yours.”
I snort.
“If I’m a psycho,” I tell her. “You made me so by murdering my husband. The one man who cared for me.”
“Oh please,” her voice echoes around me, full of pity, no remorse to be heard. “Libby and I cared about you far longer than him. We were always there for you.”
“You weren’t there for Libby, were you?” It is a low blow. Really low, but I am angry, and angry, rage-filled Ava doesn’t make the best decisions. “Had her believing you were off at college this whole time. Where were you really, Kenzi? Learning to be Christian’s lapdog.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Ava,” she hisses. “You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through.”
“And you turned a blind eye to everything I went through,” I shout back. “Pretend all you want, Kenzi, but you always knew more than you were letting on.”
Silence greets me. I doubt it is because I hit a nerve. More likely she is—
“I did.” I freeze at the sound of her voice.
Her hot breath is on the back of my neck.
“But do you honestly think I could have done anything? My father was a monster who didn’t need me and sent me away the first chance he got.
But you? The whore’s daughter? You might not have been treated as precious, but he wanted you. He was obsessed with you.”
Snarling, I yank on my gun, but it is too late. Kenzi has it in her hand and points it at the back of my head before I can say fuck you.
“I’ve learned some tricks, big sis,” she mocks. “Don’t make me use them on you.”
I scoff. “You’re not the only one with tricks.”
If she thinks I am going to let her take me to Christian or kill me—she is about to get a reality check.
As soon as I feel her body shift, I twist out of the way of the gun.
Kenzi didn’t a physical grip on me, and it is easy to duck out of the way of the barrel.
I grip the wrist holding my gun and twist it over quickly.
The move throws her off balance and she drops my gun onto the hay-covered floor.
Spinning around, I sweep her legs out from under her. She lands hard on her back with a groan. With lightning-fast speed, she recovers, flipping back to her feet like a ninja. Where the fuck has she been? League of Assassins? Training with Oliver Queen?
Her gaze on me is askance. I smile at her and wink. Kenzi wasn’t expecting me to be able to go toe to toe with her.
Bitch doesn’t know I’ve leveled up.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Ava,” she cautions as we circle one another. “There’s a lot that needs to be explained.”
“I’m not letting you take me back to your psychotic brother,” I hiss at her. “You’ll have to kill me first.” I pause and shrug nonchalantly. “Or I’ll kill you.”
“Really?” she huffs. “You’d kill your own sister?”
“You stopped being my sister the moment you killed the man I loved,” I growl and lunge at her.
My arms wrap around her waist in an attempt to tackle her.
I am slightly bigger than her, but I can feel the muscles beneath my grip.
She isn’t the only one who has underestimated her opponent.
Using my momentum against me, she wraps her arms around my upper chest and rocks backward even faster as she lets us fall to the ground.
Fuck.
Kenzi bucks her hips when we land and sends me crashing over her head in a heap.
That hurts like a bitch.
Taking advantage of my momentary disorientation, she grabs one of my arms and twists it painfully behind my back, driving me face down into the ground.
“I didn’t kill him.” Her words are a mere breath against my ear.
“Liar!” I roar, my head snapping back to catch her in the face.
Kenzi yelps, loosening her hold on me. She rolls onto her back, clutching her nose for a second too long.
Her moment of weakness is my time to strike.
“You taunted me!” Getting to my feet, I land a kick to her side.
Kenzi grunts. The force of my strike sends her rolling onto her stomach.
Another kick, but this time she is ready.
Reaching out, she snatches my ankle in her grip and pulls. The move sends me careening to the floor on my back. She is on me. Straddling my waist as she delivers a blow to my left side. Oh, I hope I still have a spleen after that shot.
“There’s more at work here than you know,” she wheezes through her broken, bloody nose. The droplet of blood drips down her face onto my chest. “I’m not your enemy.”
I spit at her.
“You weren’t there!” I snap, bucking my hips to dislodge her. It doesn’t work. I need to distract her again. “You blamed us for killing her, but you weren’t there.”
“That was the point,” she says it so matter of fact. “You needed to believe what I was telling you.”
“You still murdered him,” I cry, tears leaking from my eyes. “You took him from me and left me all alone. Everyone always leaves me. First my mother. Then Libby. You took the last good thing I had in my life and blew him to hell.”
Kenzi throws her head back and laughs.
“And look what you became,” she points out with a broad, blood-filled grin.
“A warrior. A queen. You would never have become that in his shadow. You needed to grow. To learn what you were capable of. All your life you’ve lived in the shadows.
One person’s pawn after another. A tool.
Now you are the master. You decide your fate. No one else. That is what I gave you.”
“You. Gave. Me. Nothing.”
It is small. A glint of silver amongst the darkness that I barely recognize for what it is. There isn’t any time to analyze the psychobabble she is spewing at me.
A trick.
A ploy.
Thrusting my knee into her stomach, I roll our bodies, snatching the small silver-hilted knife from the inside of her boot as I lay her out on her back. The knife is at her throat before her back hits the ground.
“You. Took. Everything.”
Kenzi’s nostrils flare, lips parting slightly as the pupils of her eyes dilate. Her body shakes infinitesimally beneath me. For a moment she is truly afraid.
“Then do it.” She bares her teeth and leans in toward the blade. My hand trembles, nicking the soft, vulnerable skin of her outstretched neck.
“Enough!”
The command catches me off guard and I hesitate.
Strong arms wrap around me and tear me off my sister. Surprise shakes me and I drop the knife to the ground as the scent of fresh pine and old leather assaults my senses.
No.
It is a trick.
He is dead. I watched him die.
“Enough.” His lips brush the shell of my ear and his warm breath cascades over the chilled skin of my cheek. “Krasnyy.”
“Stop.” I shake my head in denial, my hands covering my face as I let out a sob. “Stop. Please.”
“Red.” His voice is as soft as supple leather, his grip strong and tangible. But it can’t be him. He is dead.
“This isn’t real.” I wrench against his hold, twisting and turning as I keep hollering. “This isn’t real.”
Chest heaving, I struggle to take in air. Black dots etch across my vision. Numbness and tingling spread like wildfire through my limbs.
The world shifts in and out of focus. He is talking to Kenzi, and she says something back, but their voices are underwater, their speech distant and garbled.
Do they know one another?
How?
She killed him.
He is dead.
“This isn’t real.”
“I’m very real, my love.” Had he uttered those words or is it my imagination? Is it all my imagination? Will I wake up and find myself back in Elias’s shed, starving and close to death? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been subjected to hunger-based hallucinations.
Is any of this real?
There isn’t time to contemplate further as the darkness washes me under and both imagination and reality cease to exist.