Chapter Thirty-One
The football game droned through Grace’s family room like it was any other Sunday. The announcers shouted about a fumble recovery as the crowd roared. The jarring normalcy grated on Heavenly’s increasingly raw nerves.
Gene hadn’t lowered the gun for an instant since he’d shot Beck. He’d simply trained it on her, Grace, and Hudson—steady, unwavering.
A constant, throat-clogging threat.
Across the room, Beck looked alarmingly pale as he slumped against the wall, still pressing a hand against his wounded shoulder.
Heavenly watched helplessly as blood seeped between his fingers, trickled down his shirt, and dripped to his lap.
With every passing minute, his breaths turned rougher yet shallower.
He was losing too much blood. What if he passed out? What if he bled out and—
She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to finish that thought.
Everything inside her screamed to go to him, to help him. But if she took even one step in Beck’s direction, Gene would shoot. And once he started, would he just kill everyone?
Everything seemed so surreal. An hour ago, guests had been here, celebrating Carl and Grace’s marriage.
There had been laughter, congratulations.
Joy and love. Heavenly’s biggest problem had been wondering what troubled Seth and whether Grace would accept the fact that he was in a committed threesome.
Now Heavenly feared they might not leave this house alive. Each horrifying moment felt like a twisted nightmare. But it was every bit as real as the gun Gene had no qualms using.
Grace sat rigidly on the far side of the couch, hands trembling in her lap, lips moving silently.
Praying. Her face was pasty white, eyes wide and glassy with shock.
Heavenly reached over and gave the woman’s shoulder a squeeze.
Seth’s mother must not only be terrified, but grief-stricken.
She’d lost one husband to violence years ago.
Would she lose the other to the same fate?
Between them, Hudson sat statue-still and angry, his gaze locked on the crooked cop, tracking every shift, every breath, his phone forgotten in terror on the couch cushion beside him.
Gene glanced down at his own device again. He snarled at whatever he saw on the screen. His nostrils flared. His rage spiked. His grip tightened on the gun.
Heavenly’s stomach twisted, tangling with her unrelenting fear.
She didn’t know what had happened, but it was something Gene hadn’t expected. Something that filled him with fury.
Something to do with Seth?
It had to be. Heavenly couldn’t think of any other logical reason Seth wasn’t back yet. Unless he was already…
She blocked that horrible thought from her mind.
Seth had to be out there fighting back to thwart Gene and his twisted plans. If Seth was dead, Gene wouldn’t have sneered minutes ago that “Saint Seth” would be coming to save them. Instead, Gene would be celebrating. He would have everything under control.
His expression very much said he didn’t.
Yes, she was guessing, piecing together scraps of logic while terror screamed louder than her thoughts. But she clung to hope. She had nothing else.
Seth must be alive. He’d do whatever it took to keep history from repeating itself. He would risk everything—go scorched earth, burn down the world—to ensure he didn’t lose his woman and child again.
Gene’s voice cut through her thoughts suddenly, sharp and edged with fury.
“Your precious Seth thinks he’s so fucking clever. But I’m smarter. I know he killed Bob.” Something cruel flickered in Gene’s eyes as he turned the barrel of the gun on Grace. “Did you hear me? Your fucking son offed Bob Ellis!”
Grace flinched.
Heavenly’s breath caught.
“Then ‘Bob’ texted me to say Seth was dead. Does your cocksucker of a kid think I’m a moron?
” Gene railed in frustration. “Jesus, how is twenty years of hard work going down the drain in a single goddamn day? I knew your precious Michael had collected evidence against me. Since the day after his funeral, I’ve looked and looked for it.
And nothing. But your motherfucking kid found it less than an hour ago at a nearby storage unit. ”
Heavenly’s gaze flicked to Beck, wide and startled.
How had Seth found out about that? Why didn’t he tell us?
Beck’s answering expression said he hadn’t known, either. Then his expression shifted, as if something clicked into place. Like he finally knew the answer to some question he’d been asking.
“Bob had one job,” Gene ranted on. “All he had to do was end Seth and take Michael’s shit to our safe house. And he fucking failed! He’s too loyal to disobey orders, so the fact that his phone is heading straight here means that Seth clocked him and offed him. Motherfucker!”
When he pounded a fist against the wall, Heavenly flinched, watching as he paced, his movements choppy and agitated.
Unfortunately, the gun never wavered.
At least Seth was alive…for the time being. But he was coming here. To rescue them. And Gene knew that. That explained why he was holding them hostage. She, Grace, Hudson, and the others were leverage to bring Seth down.
Oh, god. How could she warn him, stop that from happening?
“Bob’s sloppy work made Seth think I’m running amateur hour, but if he’s stupid enough to underestimate me?” Gene’s smile turned cold. “School is in session, and I’m the teacher.”
Heavenly’s heart lurched with fear. Gene was both desperate and unhinged. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill Seth.
But Seth was smart. Trained and careful. He wouldn’t walk in blind.
Right?
Heavenly twisted her hands in her lap, nails digging into her palms. Next to her, Grace’s prayers grew louder—barely audible but frantic. Her fingers moved as if she rolled them over invisible rosary beads. And Hudson still tracked Gene with his stare, like a predator watching his prey.
Heavenly did her best to shove down her worries and hold onto hope.
“You.” Gene waved the gun in the kid’s direction, sending Heavenly’s heart jumping into her throat. “Get your ass off the couch.”
Hudson’s head snapped up, his jaw tight.
“Close those fucking drapes.” Gene pointed to the curtains at the front of the house.
Slowly, Hudson stood, fists clenched at his sides. His face was pale, but his eyes blazed with barely contained fury.
“Move!” Gene barked.
Hudson crossed to the front windows, took a regretful last glance outside, then yanked the drapes closed. As he did, the room fell into shadow—heavy, oppressive, suffocating. Everything felt smaller. Scarier.
Fear tightened Heavenly’s chest. She felt trapped, as if Gene was sealing them inside a tomb of his making.
“Good.” Gene nodded in approval. “We can’t let Seth have help, so take Beck and Carl to the basement.”
Hudson’s eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me, you little shit. Lock them in. And grab their phones while you’re at it. Bring those to me.”
“That door only locks from the inside,” Hudson pointed out.
“Then wedge a fucking chair under the knob. And stop being a pain in the ass like your dad.”
Hudson hesitated, anger rolling off him in waves. His fists opened and closed. His breathing came fast and hard.
Was he considering taking on Gene?
Horror rolled through Heavenly. She shook her head in warning, not even trying to be subtle.
Gene saw. His eyes narrowed, then he swung the gun toward Heavenly. “Step it up, kid. Or she’ll be the first to die.”
He wasn’t kidding. His finger on the trigger, steady and ready, told Heavenly that.
“And you’ll be second, kid,” Gene promised, his voice cold. “Your choice.”
Hudson’s face twisted with fury and helplessness. Just when she worried he might take the bullet and go down fighting, Hudson slumped, his shoulders sagging in defeat. His jaw clenched so hard, she saw the muscle tick.
Beck, who sat slumped against the wall, pasty and sweating, groaned as he pressed his palm against his wound. His breathing shallowed. Blood soaked through his shirt, dripping onto the floor.
Worry burned Heavenly’s throat. Even in the shadows, she could see the fury in Beck’s eyes—the rage at being incapacitated and forced to leave her to Gene’s dubious mercy.
Her throat ached with words she didn’t dare speak, not that Beck would believe that she was fine, anyway.
Face full of apology, Hudson crouched beside Beck and hauled him to his feet. Her brave surgeon grunted, pain etched deep into every line of his face as he wrapped his good arm around Hudson’s shoulders and struggled to stand.
Together, they made their way to Carl, who still lay motionless on the floor, blood matting his hair. Since he’d fallen, he hadn’t made a sound. Hadn’t moved. Was he even breathing?
Hudson leaned Beck against the opening to the kitchen. Then, with a grunt, he grabbed Carl under the arms and dragged him toward the basement door. Beck stumbled alongside, every movement making him wince. Making him bleed faster.
Terror filled Heavenly as she and Beck exchanged one last glance before he disappeared around the corner. With her heart in her eyes, she silently told him that she loved him. That if this was the end, he’d been everything to her.
Beck paused, his eyes locked on hers. Desperate. Anguished.
He mouthed something. She couldn’t hear it, but she knew.
I love you.
Tears burned her eyes. She blinked them back, refusing to let Gene see her break as she mouthed the same words to him.
Beck’s jaw clenched. He wanted to say more—promise her he’d keep her safe, that Seth would save them, that everything would be okay.
But he wouldn’t lie to her.
Heavenly bit her lip to hold in a sob, but she felt as if her chest was caving in. What if this was the last time she ever saw him? The last time she looked into those dark, steady eyes that had made her feel both safe and dangerously desired?
Please don’t let this be goodbye.
She didn’t say the words. She couldn’t.
Because if she spoke, she’d fall apart.