38. To own is to… Reclaim
Chapter thirty-eight
To own is to… Reclaim
Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey
I check my watch, readying myself for war as I enter the lavish venue four hours late. Tyet was smart to change locations last second, but stupid to do so without the same level of security detail. It was three days ago when we finally received word that Pup was in the wind, the bathhouse that now lays in cinders, residents included , having sold her to a flesh trader that operates outside of Mexico. That was when the only lead went cold.
She’s gone.
I watch my men and women mingle, filtering through the guests like clockwork, like they were born here, doing exactly what they are now. If this was any other event, if I was here for any other reason, under any other circumstances, it might have filled me with pride. Barns gives me a subtle nod as he passes me, pushing a cart of food…among other things, should I need them.
Should I want them.
The sound of piano fills the large ballroom, waving in and out of the chatter. It makes the ache in my chest deepen with each note, carried out beautifully. Even so, it doesn’t touch the way she played for me, the way she melded her damaged soul with melody. The alcohol slips down my throat, and I’ve long since stopped feeling the burn. My eyes scan the party for the man who fed me that information all those years ago, the man who then sold it to the authorities.
We seem to find each other at the same time, the rat fuck smirking as he lifts his drink to me across the room. I incline my head, readying myself. That steady strum of adrenaline that comes in moments like this kicks up as it courses through my veins. I let my glass clank loudly on the serving tray of a passing waitress, my fingers twitching to touch my watch when I watch his dark eyes slide to something in the front of the ballroom, then back to me.
My fingers halt, inches from the bringing forth the end of Tyet.
The end of Serpents .
Something…knowing, cunning, and all too smug filters in his dark gaze. The piano kicks up, the music haunting as it flows, a dark cloud in a room full of smiles.
My heart stills in my chest, my head whipping toward the front of the room as a throng of people gather around a white and gold grand piano, around the tiny figure seated on the bench, a flash of cascading blonde hair showing when someone shifts. My heart shudders to a stop in my chest, my lungs following suit. Relief, agony, rage, and so much fucking regret are enough to still me, to silence the room, save for the delicate woman seated on the piano bench.
When I look back to Harun, it’s to find him slipping out the back door. It’s the perfect shot, and the smug fucking look on his face tells me he knows he’s giving it to me.
But he’s giving me her too.
She’s here , she’s fucking here, and he knew I was looking. Tyet always fucking knows.
Fuck, he’s giving me her.
But how ? How is she—
The sound of a screeching chair takes my attention. Julissa Eaton steps in front of me, a smile on her face, but I see it: the panic in her eyes, the fear. That’s the only answer I need. “You were not supposed to be here, Head of Serpents.” She chuckles, trying to poorly hide the nerves in her voice. When my eyes find her husband behind me, he turns, suddenly engrossed in conversation. My heart clenches, my vision tunneling.
“What have you fucking done?”
“Now, now, I simply made right on a contract you broke, Warrick.”
I move to shove her from me when her husband finally finds his courage, his hand slapping my shoulder. “She’s stunning, no? Amazing how they flourish with the correct guiding hand.”
“You have no clue how badly you messed up, do you?”
Julissa’s painted-on demeanor breaks for a second, the sickening innards of her shining through. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe she truly can’t resist spewing her bile. Maybe she has forgotten who the fuck I am. “Now, don’t go and do anything stupid. She’s just flesh, after all. Remember, we had a deal. It’d be a shame to report to the other houses how you blatantly broke our contract, not to mention the way you infiltrated my home . Not when your own house is already in such turbulent waters. She really is quite…delicious.”
I shove past her, making quiet murmurs erupt in the room. Faintly, I can hear Stuart in my ear, his incensed warnings, the armed security for the event all tensing. I tune it all out, shoving people away from the piano, from her. Every second that passed without her comes down in one, crushing moment as I stand behind her, watching her as she plays. The movements in her right hand are stunted slightly from the fracture that likely wasn’t given proper care. The sound of my heart whooshes in my ears as I run my fingers through her silky hair. It reaches her lower back now, adorned with tiny, lily-shaped crystals. She shudders, and she knows .
She has to know.
“Pup.” My voice is thick with emotion, my chest shattering in on itself as she doesn’t respond. I can’t help it when my hand captures her chin gently, oh so gently, urging her to face me. She resists, making a small, quiet whimper as everything in me snaps. The piano cuts off abruptly as I reach down, my hand forming a bruising hold on her thigh as I spin her to face me. Her chest heaves under the high neck of her gown, those wide brown eyes wreaking havoc on my heart. My hand tightens on her, readying to slam her into my arms, to take her back home where she belongs, to consume her and unleash every agonizing second on her pretty flesh, when she winces.
She winces .
Everything goes still.
Deathly still as Stuart’s warnings ring in my ears. Julissa’s high-pitched voice demands I take my hands off her. She sounds worried, scared.
She should.
They all should.
The baby pink silk gathers like butter as I hike it up Pup’s legs, her beautiful body trembling, because we both know what I’m about to see. The first one is above her knee, a deep, angry gash. The higher I go, the more they mar her pale flesh, the deeper they get. I clear my throat, swallowing back the emotion clogging it as I press my lips to her head. Gently. Softly. So fucking soft, the way she always deserved. She’s unresponsive to my touch, but she trembles, her doe eyes vacant.
Dry.
I’m shaking as I let my lips fall from her head, pressing mine to hers instead. “Excuse me for a moment, my love. You may want to close your eyes for this.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, the tunneling in my vision pinpointing, my fists curling.
Her breath hitches, just a little, and for a second, I see her in those chestnut-colored eyes. My fingers find the com on my watch, disrupting Stuart’s ranting. “Change of plans. I’m taking the room.”
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Stuart roars as I remove the com from my ear, slipping it into my pocket.
I watch Pup flinch as Julissa storms over, her talons gripping my arm as she tries to tug me away. The squeaking of a food cart drifts over the sudden, rapturous quiet that seems to snuff out everything else in the room. Julissa glares at Barns. “ Have you lost your fucking mind? Move the cart, you fucking idiot.”
Her crow-like eyes widen a moment too late, the realization hitting her all at once as she stumbles back. The room is still blissfully unaware of what’s about to happen. That familiar quiet rage is anything but—it’s an inferno.
Napalm.
I press another all-too-fleeting kiss to Pup’s forehead before I jerk a black 1W1 Traver assault rifle from underneath the cloth of the cart. It’s Julissa’s screams that rally the guests and spur security into action, but the exits are blocked. My men work like a well-oiled machine as I put two bullets in the woman’s knees, watching her crumble, her face contorted in agony. It’s Leo who screams the loudest, barreling toward me as he jerks his own gun from his waist, but the years haven’t been kind to him.
He’s slow.
Too slow.
I put three in his gut and watch with pure gratification as he drops. What was once a scene of opulence and excess is a bloodbath. People are trembling and screaming, slamming on doors that are blocked from the outside.
My eyes dip to the screaming woman at my feet as I turn the small rifle toward her, only for small hands to grip my arms. “Let me,” she chokes out, like the words are foreign to her.
My heart wrenches as I face my girl. Those sad wide eyes are back, and fuck, if my vision doesn’t mist for it. “I want to,” she pleads, as if I would—as if I could deny her this.
My hands dance along her flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake as I position the rifle in her hands. My lips are unable to refrain from tasting her neck as she shudders. “How do you know I won’t use it on you?”
“No, no, no, no, you fucking whore! Don’t you fucking dare!” Julissa screeches.
I smile, but it’s a wrenched, painful thing as I place another kiss to her throat. “Kill your masters, baby. Do whatever you need to do, but know if you don’t put a fucking bullet in my skull, you’re never leaving my sight again. ”
The three pops she puts in Julissa’s head rise above the others, and when the face of Rodney Sampson appears from behind a table, my pup sees it the same time I do, and God, the stunning creature doesn’t hesitate as she turns the gun on him. I watch as he panics, crawling away as she sprays bullets in his direction, missing.
Until she doesn’t.
She discards the gun behind her. I only barely manage to snag it as she walks toward him as he gurgles on the floor. My eyes scan the room, the rifle on a swivel. She doesn’t flinch as I drop two more men, ones who made the unfortunate move to point their guns in her direction.
Her slender back is exposed as her head peeks around the table where she’d been hunkered. I don’t know what she grabs until I watch her high heel press against his chin, forcing him to open wide. My eyebrows rise as she forces the long rod into his mouth, gagging the half-dead man.
It’s only when I hear her set the cattle prod off that I realize what it is. The scream that leaves her is primal, guttural, and so filled with pain, I know I’m in part responsible for it. When I reach out, pulling her away from the corpse, she’s sobbing. Not even her tears dim the fire in her eyes as she turns on me, slapping, hitting, and scratching. She screams all her betrayal, her pain, and I take it. I deserve far worse. Her beautiful eyes are on mine until she has spent herself, shoving off me and heading for the exit. I follow her, because I will always follow her.
I made that mistake once, but never again.
It took me too long to realize she owned me every bit as much as I did her, from the very start.
I lift my watch, ordering them to open the doors as she reaches them. I follow her into the night where a car waits, one I didn’t plan to be alive to use just moments ago. I snag her by the arm as she pivots, storming in the opposite direction. “Where are you going?”
Her blonde hair whips wildly in the wind as she steels herself in front of me. “Away from here! Away from you, anywhere fucking else!” She wrenches her arm, trying to get free, but I don’t let go.
I slam her to me instead, caging her to my chest as I jerk open the rear passenger door. “You’re not safe here. Get in the car.”
“I’m not safe! I’m not fucking safe? Now you care for my safety? You sold me! And when they came for me, you weren’t there!” She jabs my chest, and it might as well have been a blade. The guilt I feel is all-consuming. I want to let her vent, to take it all out on me, but there’s no time for it, not yet, not here.
She yelps as my hands capture the sides of her face. “You’re right! It’s my fault, and I don’t deserve you, much less your forgiveness. You were supposed to be safe there. I never knew. I am so sorry I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve. I am so fucking sorry. I’m sorry I sent you away. It was hell. It was fucking hell, and I know I deserved every second.”
“They came for me,” she sobs.
I nod, pressing my forehead against hers. “I know. I’m so sorry.”
“I missed you. I missed you so much, and I can’t fucking stand the sight of you.”
“Anything you want, demand it of me. Tell me how to begin to fix this.” The gravel in my voice takes us both back, but I mean it. Every word. God, I love her.
It stills her sobbing, her breath returning in hiccups, the moonlight on her tear-stained face breathtaking. “Kneel.”
I release her slowly; the eyes of my men bore into me as the gravel hits my knees, palms up, my head lowered. For her .
I watch as her eyes widen, her chest heaving. “And if I wanted to go home? If I wanted to leave?”
Anger scathes my chest, rising in me, but I keep my tone even, if not a bit throaty. Damn that fucking lump. “I would ready the jet for you, take you anywhere you want. There are already enough funds in your account to keep you in luxury for the rest of your life.”
“I—"
I cut her off, my eyes leaving my upturned palms, and I let her see it: the warning in them, reminding her why she should’ve put a bullet in my skull when I gave her the chance, two more than anyone else has got. “But know, little pet, that I will be there, watching. If not beside you, then behind, in the dark, until I’m worthy to be at your side again.”
Her lips, part flush, creeping up her round cheeks.
“I'm asking , begging for you. I want you to choose me. Not because you feel you must, but because it’s what you want . Because it’s what you need. Because you’re what I need, desperately.”
“Y-you’re giving me a choice,” she whispers. “But I never wanted one, not from you.”
I nod, something indescribably warm filling my chest. “Get in the car, Chloe.”
Tears burst in her doe eyes, her chin wobbling as she nods. My men quickly disperse as I get to my feet, straightening the cuffs of my suit before helping her into the car. I don’t breathe until I slip into the other side, pulling her onto my lap.