Chapter 23
Kane
Samuel Wright doesn’t just skyrocket to the top of my hit list, he wipes every other name from existence.
All it takes is one disgusted look at my boyfriend and one stupid fucking decision to damn him to an early grave.
After dropping the most bizarre info bomb I’ve ever heard, he gives one final order before finally leaving us alone: a parting gift for his son’s unlikely bedfellows.
“Break his arm.”
I fight against every man in the room. Every single one feels my fists, but it’s not enough. The carving knife that Mercy dropped is lost in the chaos, and I’m shoved face-first to the ground to witness these men—these demons without fucking souls—break the man I love.
Zane doesn’t scream, but Mercy does. Clawing to get to Wright’s guards, she spews out curses that I’ve never heard of, more furious than I’ve ever seen her.
Like a bat out of hell, she slips free from Sam’s grasp and jumps on someone’s back, scratching their face furiously enough to peel back their skin.
“Don’t hurt her,” Wright Senior orders, looking at Mercy much like he might stare at a rabid dog. “Yet.”
“You fucking bastard!” Sam is kept at bay while his father looks between each of us, coldly calculating our worth like we’re pigs at auction.
“Careful, now, Samson, or I might change my mind about your little toy.” Once someone finally restrains Mercy, he grabs her chin and squeezes until her mouth pops open.
“She’s breakable, after all, much like that one.
” He glances at Zane lying motionless on the ground and tuts.
“I was hoping he’d scream.” Releasing Mercy, he suddenly steps on Zane’s broken arm.
“Come now, let’s hear it. I want to know how badly it hurts.
” When Zane doesn’t so much as whimper, Samuel snarls.
“You stupid dog.” He lifts his foot and slams it back down on Zane’s swollen flesh.
“Maybe we should break both your arms, hm?”
“Stop it!” Mercy tries to kick Samuel. “What is wrong with you?”
Ignoring her, Samuel sighs and backs off, finally turning to leave. “The fun will have to wait, however.” He turns to his son. “Midnight, Samson. Don’t be late.”
Before he can escape, I make a promise. Speaking from the depths of my black heart, I ensure that the fucker can hear me.
“I’m going to gut you, Samuel fucking Wright.
” Grinning, I stare at the bleeding cut on his cheek.
That’s only the beginning of his torment.
“I will make you scream for a death that never comes. Your lungs will burn and your soul with whither and I will be your fucking God.”
He pauses in the doorway and speaks with his back turned to us. “There is no God, only His forsaken children.”
The armed guards quickly follow their employer, leaving the four of us to lick our wounds.
Mercy crawls on her hands and knees to Zane’s side, and I join her in time to help Zane sit up.
His face is pale and cold sweat slicks his skin, but otherwise, he’s sort of okay.
When I touch his arm, he hisses in pain.
“I’m going to kill him,” I growl, slamming my fist into the floor. “Fucking bastard.”
“Let’s get you to a hospital,” Mercy suggests softly, her voice easing some of the tension crackling behind my eyes. Jesus, that hurts.
I shut my eyes and take a few deep breaths. “Not the hospital.” We don’t like having public records for this very reason—people like Samuel fucking Wright can track us down. “The Box.” We may not be official members of the bratva, but the least they can do is patch us the fuck up on their dime.
“Medical facility,” Zane explains for me, wincing as I lift him off the ground. “I can walk.”
“Yeah, but—” I swallow the fury burning in my throat. If I don’t carry Zane, I might charge after those bastards and get myself killed. That won’t help anyone, least of all Zane.
He must understand where my thoughts are leading, because he brushes his hand over my forehead and smoothes out my brow. “Hey. We’ll get him. There’s not a single target we haven’t put down.”
Mercy hovers nearby and bites her bottom lip as we both turn our heads to face her.
She’s the exception to that rule—a permanent one, as far as I’m concerned.
I give her as reassuring of a smile as I can.
Now isn’t the time to untangle my feelings about her, especially when I’m not even sure exactly how I’m feeling.
Heart in my throat, oddly nervous, kind of excited?
Yeah, I’ll keep all that to myself.
“What about—” Mercy looks over her shoulder at Sam, who’s wound so tightly that he looks like he’s about to blow. When she reaches for him, he flinches away.
“Don’t touch me right now.”
“Sam—”
“Don’t. Please.”
“But this isn’t your fault.”
He runs both hands through his hair and stares up at the ceiling. “I ignored my dad’s calls and texts, Mercy. This is his way of punishing me for it.”
Talk about a shitty fucking parent.
I shake my head. “Daddy issues aside, we gotta go.” If I could snap my fingers, I would. “The Box. Now.” The longer we wait to set Zane’s break, the worse shape he’ll be in. “Someone drive.”
Mercy tears her gaze off Sam and nods at me. “I’ll drive.”
“Keys are on the nightstand in the master.” While she disappears to grab Zane’s car keys, I stare at Sam.
“I don’t blame you,” I say honestly, “but it’s not fucking okay, either way.
” Zane had warned me that Sam’s dad was a dick, but I didn’t anticipate Mega-Dick levels of cuntiness.
I hadn’t expected to run into the man at all, truth be told.
He was supposed to be the boogeyman: scary in your head but harmless in reality, not a psychopathic control freak.
Zane growls in frustration. “I blame you, asshole!” Glaring at Sam, he huffs. “How did your dad find us, huh? What tipped him off?” His gaze travels down Sam’s body like he’s looking for a tracker. “What did you do?”
Sam’s jaw clenches. “I already told you. I didn’t answer his calls.”
“Bullshit.” Zane spits the word like venom. “There’s something else; another reason why he’s so pissed off. I’m alive after cutting his face, which means that he’s playing with us. It’s not efficient. He should have killed us and dragged you back with him.”
I say the first thing that comes to mind. “He’s a sick bastard who gets off on inflicting pain.”
Zane huffs as he considers this. “Then why did he go after Mercy’s family?”
“To hurt her.” I roll my eyes. That’s fucking obvious. “You’re thinking too hard.”
“You’re not thinking hard enough.”
“Sometimes,” I rumble, nipping Zane’s jaw, “you piss me the hell off.”
He purses his lips. “The feeling’s mutual.” After a moment, he sighs and rests his head on my shoulder. “But I’d really appreciate if we could leave. Take me to the car?”
Little moments like these remind me that Zane, for all his posturing about the magnitude of his inner strength and intelligence, likes to be taken care of as much as the rest of us.
“You got it, babe.” I kiss his cheek. “Let’s get you patched up.
” I glance at Sam before leaving. “What are you gonna do, Sam?”
Avoiding my gaze, Sam glares at the floor. “What I have to.”
Right.
I nod. “Okay. Call us once you know something.”
“Or have a plan,” Zane mumbles, “for killing your father.”
We don’t need a plan for that, but whatever. I’ll let my lover have something to focus on during our car ride across the city. Murder is a perfect distraction from his injury.
After spending the past week with Sam and arguing with him about Mercy for an entire month, walking away suddenly feels strange. My chest tightens like we’re friends going through a breakup, and I don’t exactly like it. Clearing my throat, I glance over my shoulder at him. “See ya, Sam.”
He blinks, coming out of a fog to return my gaze. “Um. Yeah. See you.”
Mercy appears right on time and falls into step behind me.
“The roads should be clear because of the holiday—” She trails off once she realizes that Sam isn’t following us into the hall.
“What’s wrong?” A divot appears between her pinched eyebrows as she takes a few steps back. “You’re not coming with us?”
Sam looks damn near mournful as he rushes forward and sweeps her into his arms. “I need to find out what leverage he has on your family.” Pressing his forehead against hers, he exhales slowly.
“As soon as I do, I’ll run back to you, I promise.
” Before she can protest, he slants his lips over hers and silences anything she’s about to say.
They linger in this stolen moment for what feels like eternity, each beat of my heart ticking like a clock.
He’s gentle when he touches her but no less insistent, determined to pour every ounce of himself into her body.
This isn’t a short goodbye to last a few hours. It’s meant for much longer—as long as it takes for Sam to complete his task.
When he comes up for air, he whispers something that I’m sure is meant for Mercy’s ears only, but Zane and I hear anyway.
“I love you, Mercy Morningstar. I won’t let anyone hurt our family.”
He has the balls to say what I can’t, and all of a sudden, I’m watching him run right past me to claim the final piece of Mercy’s heart.
The game is over.
Samson fucking Wright has won.