1. Riley
My whole bodyis buzzing with pleasure, betraying me just as ruthlessly as these fucking Reapers have. That last orgasm was so intense that the afterglow feels almost radioactive—and all from a man I fucking hate.
Something twists inside my chest as Maddoc’s cock pulses inside me again, his muscled body pressed against mine in the aftermath of our heated, rough fuck.
Maddoc Gray. Leader of one of Halston’s most dangerous gangs. A man I was stupid enough to start to believe in. To count on.
To… care for.
I try to focus on something else besides the anger and hurt crawling through my veins like poison. Anything else. The way the edge of the counter he just fucked me on digs into the backs of my thighs. The silence in the kitchen that tells me my distraction worked, that my sister got away.
“Shit,” he breathes, the sound dragging out on a slow exhale. “I’ve imagined this way too many times. But this was better.”
He nuzzles my neck, and my skin crawls.
I have to get out of here. I can’t fucking be here anymore.
Chloe is long gone by now, I’m sure of it. She’s free. But I never gave any thought to how I might get out after she escaped. All I cared about in the moment was covering for her so that she could get out of the house without being seen.
As Maddoc lifts his head and smooths my multi-colored hair back, his eyes warm and his face flushed, my gaze drops to the gun he left on the counter.
Moving in a flash, I wrap my fingers around the cool steel, gripping it tightly. Before I can stop to consider what I’m doing or second guess myself, I lift it to Maddoc’s temple.
He stiffens, the warmth in his expression turning to shock. He pulls back, just far enough to look into my eyes… and rolls his hips just enough to remind me that his cock is still buried inside me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, butterfly?” he asks, his voice eerily calm as he narrows his eyes.
I grit my teeth and press the gun harder against his skin, grinding it into his temple.
“What I have to,” I bite out. “What you made me do. You forced my hand when you betrayed me.”
My finger curls around the trigger, my pulse racing. Maddoc’s nostrils flare as he senses the movement, and tension crackles in the air as he holds my gaze, his gray eyes churning like storm clouds.
Then he moves.
It’s so sudden and smooth that it catches me by surprise, one muscled arm shooting up and knocking into my forearm with bruising force.
The gun flies out of my gasp, and he jerks away from me, his cock slipping free as he dives for it.
Fuck. No!
I push off the counter and land on him with a grunt, grappling for control as we both reach for it, my hands sliding on his naked, sweat-slick skin.The gun goes skittering across the floor, and I cling to his back as he lunges for it, then scratch and claw at his face, digging my fingers into his hair and yanking his head back to keep him from reaching it.
He’s a better fighter than me, stronger and more well-trained, but I’m running on pure adrenaline and a primal, bone-deep will to survive. I lash out with everything I have, managing to land a lucky blow against the back of his head with my elbow.
He grunts, going down to the floor, and I scramble forward and grab the gun. The second it’s in my hands, I roll onto my back, holding it with both hands this time as I aim it at him.
Maddoc freezes, already up on one knee with an arm extended toward me.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” I bite out.
Slowly, he lowers his arm to his side, shaking his head. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, butterfly, I promise you, it would be a mistake.”
“Don’t call me that. And my only mistake was trusting you,” I say. I’m panting as hard as I was while he fucked me, but now it’s from adrenaline and fury. “This whole goddamn time, you three assholes have been after Chloe for your own gain. I heard you and Dante in your office. You lied to me. You want to use her for something that will benefit you. Rescuing her was never about helping me.”
My voice cracks on the last part, and something shifts in his eyes, his expression hardening.
A part of me is still waiting for him to tell me I’m wrong. That there’s some other explanation. That I can trust them after all.
That I mean something to him.
But of course, he doesn’t.
I don’t dare blink as I steady the gun with both hands and keep it pointed at his face, slowly sitting up, then getting to my feet.
“What do you want with my sister?” I demand.
“That doesn’t concern you,” he murmurs, his face completely shuttered now. “And I never lied.”
“The fuck you didn’t,” I hiss. My hands shake before I steady them again. “I need to know what this is about. Why do you want her? Tell me!”
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Maddoc says flatly. “We did what you asked. We got her away from McKenna. We never discussed what would happen after that.”
His words twist in my chest like a knife, the sharp pain making it hard to breathe. I knew he could be cold and calculating, but hearing him speak so callously of the bargain we made breaks something inside me.
Maddoc slowly rises to his feet, his hands at his side as his gaze locks with mine. I know he’ll try to get the gun again, that he’s probably already looking for an opening or a weakness in my stance. I know he’s used to winning, and that he built his gang up into the force that it is because he’ll do whatever it takes to survive.
But so will I.
I shove aside the painful, chaotic mess of emotions in my chest and raise the gun. I know by now that the man in front of me doesn’t have a heart, but I aim the barrel where one should be.
“You’re right,” I say calmly, my hands completely steady this time. “None of that was part of the deal. And neither was this.”
Then I squeeze the trigger.
The big gun jerks in my hands, the sound of the shot ringing out like deafening thunder. The kickback catches me off guard, making my wrists burn, and the moment of calm, deadly focus I felt a moment ago goes up in smoke as Maddoc’s body jerks from the impact, his blood spraying out in a vivid red arc.
It’s the middle of the night. Nothing should look that bright in such dim lighting, but it does.
He staggers backward, cursing.
Cursing and bleeding.
That sight does something to me, and a flurry of emotions I can’t even name well up inside me, hot and fast. My chest is so tight I can barely breathe, and I try to steady the gun again as the shakes set in.
Maddoc’s face contorts with pain as he stumbles and crashes into the island in the middle of the kitchen.The bullet struck him, but it went wide, hitting his shoulder instead of his heart. He’s hurt, but he’s not down.
I’m breathing in harsh, uncontrolled pants as I take aim again. I have to end this.
But my ears are still ringing, and my hands almost feel numb from the force of the first shot. I can’t seem to steady them this time, no matter how hard I fucking try.
“Dammit,” I pant, raising my arms and locking out my elbows.
Maddoc grunts and slaps a hand over the bullet wound, his knuckles turning white where he clutches his shoulder. Then he looks up, meeting my eyes.
His dark brown hair is sex-mussed and tangled, and a huge black tattoo covers his bare chest. One that looks fucking ominous covered in all the blood splatter, like a sinister omen that I’ll never win.
Fuck that.
I glare at him, and in the space between one breath and the next, his pained grimace smooths out, returning to the same calm, unreadable expression he wore when I first walked into Clancy’s and asked him to help me get Chloe back.
Like we’re strangers.
Like he hasn’t been lying to me this whole time.
Like we’re not both still naked, with his cum running down my thighs.
I grip the gun even tighter, my body suddenly cold all over and my adrenaline so high I almost feel sick with it.
Blood wells out from between Maddoc’s fingers, dripping down his hand. His wrist. Running in winding rivulets down his sculpted pecs, adding chaotic new patterns to the ink there.
A lot of blood.
Too much.
I force away the thought and the twinge of worry that comes with it. It doesn’t matter. I need to shoot him again, put him down for good, and go after my sister. I shouldn’t be worrying about how badly I’ve wounded him when that was the entire point.
But my fucked up feelings make me hesitate too long, and when he bursts into motion, I’m not prepared for it.
He bum rushes me, charging toward me like a freight train.
“Fuck,” I gasp, firing wildly and missing completely this time.
A chunk of drywall explodes out of the wall behind Maddoc’s head, and then he’s on me, wrestling for control of the gun. His skin is slick with sweat and blood, and he’s so much bigger than me, so fucking strong, that the slipperiness is the only thing that gives me an advantage.
I yell, squirming and fighting, twisting in his grip and jabbing him with my elbows, knees, whatever I can use. I can feel the stitches at my waist pulling again, stinging hard, like they’re about to tear through my skin, but it doesn’t matter. I slam my forehead into the bloody crater where the bullet entered Maddoc’s shoulder, and he spins me around so my back is plastered against his front, letting loose with a string of vicious curses as he wraps one arm around my ribs and strains to reach the gun in my hand with the other one.
I stretch away with all my strength, holding it out of his reach.
Fumbling it.
Trying to turn it back toward him.
“Not happening, Riley,” he grits out, the grim tone of his voice telling me all I need to know.
“Fuck you,” I hiss.
“You just did,” he growls, torquing my arm back until I grunt with pain as he tries to get to the gun.
Whatever connection I fooled myself into believing existed between us before I discovered that the Reapers have just been using me to get to Chloe is gone. I was shooting to kill, and Maddoc will never forgive me for tonight, and neither will his brothers.
But that’s fine, because I’ll never forgive any of them either.
I strain even harder to keep the gun out of his reach, fighting him with everything in me. Fighting not to let my emotions overwhelm me, and for damn sure not to cry.
Right the fuck now is the only chance I’ll have to get away, and I know it. I can already hear pounding footsteps heading our way.
Dante and Logan must have heard the gunshots, and once they get here, it will be three pissed off Reapers against one.
I won’t stand a chance.
“Give it up,” Maddoc grunts, twisting away just as I try to slam my head back into his shoulder again. He tightens his arm around me so hard I can barely breathe.
My neck strains as I turn my head to glare up at him.
Those unique, deceptively beautiful eyes of his burn into mine, igniting a wave of fresh adrenaline that mixes with the post-orgasmic afterglow my body is still buzzing with. I’m all too aware of the intimate feel of his cock, thick and soft now and still wet from my pussy, where it presses into my ass. The evidence of what we just did is smeared across my skin, but the electric tension thrumming through my blood isn’t arousal.
It’s pure fury.
“Never,” I wheeze defiantly, my ribs aching when his arms tighten around me to the point of pain. “I’ll never give up.”
“I know,” he says, his jaw tight as he stares down at me.
Then he sighs, almost silently, his arms loosening for nothing more than a split second.
It’s all I need.
I twist my body hard and fast, making sure to keep the gun out of his reach and intending to slam my knee up into his unprotected ball sac and make a break for it.
He stops me before I can even turn, but like I just said, I will never give up. Never stop fighting him.
I drop my fist back like a hammer, letting my arm hinge at the elbow to try to bring down the butt of the gun on his head… but the fucker denies me that too, not even flinching as he forces my arm straight again, then pushes it out and back at an unnatural angle so I can’t move.
He yanks me back against his body.
“I told you,” he says grimly, his heated breath branding the side of my neck, “not happening.”
A furious, incoherent sound leaves me as Dante and Logan finally burst into the kitchen, one of them slapping the light switch on.
I flinch under the onslaught of bright light, and they both skid to a stop. Dante stares at us incredulously as Logan’s shuttered gaze moves rapidly around the room, as if he’s mentally cataloging the blood, the damage, the clothes strewn everywhere.
Dante is the first to find his voice.
“What the fuck?” he demands, crossing the kitchen in two long strides and reaching for my gun hand.
I twist away, despair washing through me as I meet Dante’s vibrant green eyes, staring out at me quizzically under his sleep-tousled chocolate brown hair.
He freezes, his brows drawing together in confusion.
How fucking dare he look concerned? I’m sure all three of them were in on the plan to use my sister, but he was the one I overheard talking to Maddoc about the details.
He was the one I started to trust.
He was the one I let myself open up to the most, develop fucking feelings that felt real for, the one I most thought I was going to miss.
“Fuck you,” I hiss, narrowing my eyes at him as I fight off the hopelessness that threatens to drown me.
I lunge at him, and Maddoc wrenches me backward.
Dante shakes his head, pressing his lips together in a tight line, then reaches for the gun again.
I curse him out, struggling harder.
I have to. Chloe made it out of the house, she must have, but she’s all alone and this fucking gang war of theirs, the one we landed right in the middle of through no fault of our own, means that being alone in Halston right now isn’t safe for her.
I have to get away.
“Do you want to tell me what the hell is going on here?” Dante asks grimly, dodging backward when my struggle against the force of nature known as Maddoc motherfucking Gray sends the two of us stumbling into him.
“Riley shot me,” Maddoc tells him flatly, wrenching me back against him yet a-fucking-gain.
“What? Why?” Dante asks, his eyes locking onto mine.
I pant for air, immobilized but channeling all my rage into the death glare I send back at him.
He pats the air in a calm-down gesture that pisses me off even more. His lips quirk up, proving he can still read me like a book, but then he looks past me, addressing Maddoc over my shoulder. “Why are you two fighting? And why are you both naked?”
Maddoc’s entire body goes still, his arms like a steel vise around me. I’ve got no doubt he’s staring Dante down, trying to prove he’s the top dog here and doesn’t have to answer to anyone no matter how close he and his brothers are.
Dante just raises an eyebrow, waiting him out.
“Why the fuck do you think?” Maddoc finally growls.
From behind me, Logan hisses, a sound that would have scared me if I wasn’t so furious at all of them.
Dante just snorts, shaking his head, then smirks knowingly at Maddoc.
Like he almost expected it.
Motherfucker.
I look away. I don’t want to see Dante’s perpetual good humor or, as he crosses his big arms over his chest, inked-up muscles bulging out enticingly, all the vibrant, beautiful colors that decorate the body I’ve started to get so familiar with.
I don’t want to think about how I’ve let myself imagine that one day I’d get the chance to trace those images with my fingers, my tongue. Follow the ink to more intimate places and let him tell me about what each tattoo means as we lay tangled together with smooth whiskey on our tongues and all the time in the world.
A stupid fucking fantasy.
And I don’t give a shit if both Dante and Logan know that Maddoc just fucked me, either. They should know, since it means I’m not the only one he’s lied to. After all, he’s the one who made it off limits for any of them to touch me while he forced me to live here with them, the fucking hypocrite.
But the last fucking straw is when the silence stretches, the three Reapers engaged in some kind of stare-off, and I feelMaddoc’s goddamn cock start to swell, thickening against my ass like he just can’t help himself. Like he gets off on winning. On dominating me. On sharing that fact with his brothers.
“You fucking bastard,” I pant, coming back to life. Struggling against him again with renewed fury. “Get the fuck off me!”
I throw my weight to the side, then slam my heel back, aiming for Maddoc’s knee this time.
I connect, but bare feet don’t do enough damage, and he just grunts without letting me go.
“Get the fucking gun away from her,” he says to Logan and Dante.
They both close in, obeying him instantly, and I shout, bucking against Maddoc’s suffocating grip in a desperate bid for freedom before they reach me.
This time, I’m not trying to fire the gun again, but I’m gripping it so tightly my hand is almost numb. Waving it around as I desperately try to keep the three Reapers from gaining control of it… and my finger is still wedged around the trigger.
When it goes off, the recoil slams my whole arm back, wrenching my elbow and flooding my arm with pain.
It was pointed at Dante this time, and something on the counter behind him shatters, shooting shards of plastic toward all of us like shrapnel.
“Jesus fuck,” Dante shouts, his body jerking when some of it hits him. Then he lunges toward me and grabs my forearm in an unbreakable grip, holding my gun arm away from my body as he stares down at me grimly, all traces of his charming humor gone. “Quit it, princess.”
Logan silently glides toward the counter behind him, picking up one of the shiny black shards of broken plastic. He stares at it, then lifts his freakishly pale eyes to mine, holding my gaze with an eerily blank stare for a moment. “We’ll need a new coffee maker.”
“Fuck your fucking coffee maker,” I pant, straining against Maddoc’s hold and kicking out at Dante’s shins.
Dante sidesteps without releasing my arm, and Logan blinks at me, then turns away and slips out of the kitchen with his precious piece of broken bullshit in hand.
“Drop the gun, Riley,” Maddoc says from behind me, steel in his voice.
His hot breath plays over the back of my neck and his fucking cock is even harder now, but I will never do what he wants. Never again.
I snarl, tightening my grip on the gun and flexing my wrist, trying with all my might to turn it and get the weapon to point toward either one of them.
I can’t.
Dante locks out my elbow and grabs my wrist with his free hand, then squeezes hard on some kind of pressure point that has my hand spasming open without my consent.
“You fucking asshole,” I hiss as the gun falls to the floor with a clatter.
Dante gives me a grim smile, kicking it away as Maddoc wrenches both my arms behind my back and locks my wrists together in one of his hands. Dante immediately steps in so that I’m sandwiched between them, trapped with my blood-smeared breasts heaving against Dante’s chest while Maddoc’s naked body is an immovable wall behind me.
“It didn’t have to be this way, princess,” Dante says, running his finger down my cheek.
I jerk my head back, glaring up at him with all the hurt-fueled hate in my heart.
“Okay,” he says, nodding. Then he looks past me, meeting Maddoc’s eyes with his trademark lazy grin back in place and a hint of a challenge in his bright green eyes. “So much for none of us fucking her.”
“And this is why,” Maddoc growls. “It’s a fucking distraction. She kissed me to divert my attention. Got me to fuck her so she could try to kill me.”
“Kill you?” Dante asks, looking down at me with a flash of surprise on his face.
I lift my chin in defiance and he quickly covers up his real expression with the laid-back mask he wears so often and so well, dragging his eyes back up to meet Maddoc’s. “If she tried to kill you,” he drawls, “it sounds like you were doing it wrong, Madd.”
A teasing smile hovers around Dante’s lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Sex is a weapon. It makes us let our guards down,” Maddoc says tightly, clearly not amused. “I’ve got the bullet wound to prove that fact if you have trouble remembering the rule from here on out.”
Dante holds his gaze for a moment, then nods.
And it hurts, a twingeof pain inside me at the idea that what I just did with Maddoc, why I did it, betrayed whatever it was that was starting to grow between me and Dante.
But I ignore that pain, because whatever I thought was between us wasn’t real, and this little fucking twinge is nothing, not compared to how it felt when I heard him talking to Maddoc about their plans for my sister.
No matter what I did, Dante was the one who betrayed me first.
I harden my heart, and when Maddoc’s body subtly shifts behind me as he adjusts his grip on my wrists, I throw my head back again, this time managing to connect with the bloody bullet wound in his shoulder.
“Fuck,” he shouts, his grip loosening enough that I actually manage to yank loose this time.
I shove Dante away and bolt toward the kitchen door, desperate to get out and go after Chloe. Desperate to get the fuck away from the Reapers.
Instead, I round the doorway and slam straight into another one.
Logan’s arms silently snap closed around my body, trapping me against his lean, muscled frame.
“Motherfucker,” I hiss, helpless rage consuming me as I try to fight my way free.
He barely reacts, and he sure as fuck doesn’t let me go.
But of course he doesn’t, because he’s in on it too. He has to be. He may not have been part of the conversation I overheard, too busy fooling me into believing there might actually be something more than hate happening between us as he stitched up the bullet wound I got while we rescued Chloe earlier tonight, but these three assholes really are as close as brothers.
Inseparable. Always in sync. A united front.
My enemies. All three of them.
“You—” I start to say, only to have the vicious words I intend to throw at Logan muffled by the cloth he covers my mouth and nose with.
No fanfare. No expression on his face. No chance for me to get away.
I cough, then gag on the pungently sweet odor and try to hold my breath as I struggle against him anyway.
But I can’t fight this. Not forever. And when I reflexively inhale, my body growing desperate for air, the sickening chemical sweetness overwhelms me and a wave of dizziness loosens my limbs.
Logan cocks his head to the side, his blond hair glinting in the dim light. He stares down at me like I’m a curious zoo specimen, holding me tightly as I sag against him, everything starting to go fuzzy.
Everything except those ice-colored eyes of his, as empty as his soulless heart.
They’re the last thing I see as the world fades to black.