Chapter 11
LEX
Sky Daddy’s plane.
Thinking of all the ways I can murder Zeke.
“Zeke! No! Please!” Bella’s cries bounce off the walls as that bastard grinds on top of her.
Something inside me splits wide open.
I detonate into the room, my lungs searing as I hook my arms around him.
I tear him away and drag him by the shoulders before launching him into the wall.
The impact sends one of Cade’s paintings clattering to the floor.
The wet crunch of Zeke’s nose against the wood is loud, vicious, and fucking satisfying as hell.
He staggers and barely stays on his feet.
I don’t give the asshole time to recover. My fists connect to his ribs. Once. Twice, until I feel something give. He grunts but won’t go down. He swings wild and lands one to my chest. I refuse to flinch.
“That all you got?” I hiss.
I duck a right hook. It whistles past my ear. I counter and bury my elbow into Zeke’s jaw. His head snaps sideways, spraying flecks of red all over the floor.
Through the gore, the bastard actually laughs. “You should’ve got here sooner,” he sneers, spitting blood at my boots. “We’d have loved for you to join us.”
Red-hot rage floods my vision.
I tackle him and take us both to the ground.
We crash into Bella’s nightstand. It splinters beneath our weight.
I mount him and let the rage free, my fists raining down—face, throat, chest. Every punch fueled by Bella’s screams. By the sound of her begging.
And by the fucking look on her face when she thought she was alone.
“Stay the fuck down!” I roar.
He bucks beneath me, stronger than I thought he’d be. His long fingers dig into my sides. The dick slams his knee up into my ribs. Pain flares as he twists, rolling us over until he’s on top.
His hands close around my throat. My vision darkens at the edges.
“She’s mine,” he says, leaning in close. His breath is hot and coppery. “I won’t let you take her from me.”
An ice-cold chill explodes across my stomach as the metal slides in deep. I look down just in time to see red bloom across my white shirt. A vicious, blinding pain hits a second later.
I jerk awake with a strangled gasp.
Long, dark fingers adorned with golden rings grip my arm. “Shh, l’ombre,” a soft voice murmurs. “You’re alright, for it was only a bad dream.”
“No,” I rasp, sweat coating my brow. I check my phone. 11:11 p.m. I rest my head against the window. “I’m not alright, Sabine.”
I barely remember walking out of that damn forest. Or getting onboard Sky Daddy’s plane.
I remember the moment when Zeke left the room. The door closing. The screen going black. That sketch still sitting there in Cade’s trembling hands like it was radioactive.
Everything’s a bit of a blur after that.
Khoza came at me first. I know that because I remember his massive shadow crossing the doorway. His mouth moved and words came out. I couldn’t tell you a single thing the guy said. It was like my ears stopped working. Like someone packed my skull with cotton and sealed it tight.
Briggs and Laing came in next. I remember Laing shouting into the comms. Briggs asking questions. Roman answering them—at least, I think he was. I saw Roman gesturing around, his face twisted with something that might have been fear.
Maybe.
None of it landed.
I couldn’t hear shit except the sound of our girl in my head. Screaming, crying, and pleading for that fucker to get off of her.
The only thing I could think about was how I couldn’t protect her.
Or Cade.
How I could only stand there and watch as my boyfriend shook so hard he could barely hold the damn pencil while he tried to draw Zeke on top of our girl.
I remember the DING.
The message.
@LucaWasHere
You did so well, Whitmore, steady and true.
Such pretty lines born from panic and you.
My first little treasure, raw fear turned to art.
I think I’ll hang it somewhere close to my heart.
Did your hands shake while you sketched in the sun?
Did you pray it would end once the damage was done?
Creation cuts deepest when love’s in the way.
That’s how I know you’ll obey what I say.
Now breathe, little Lexie. Your turn’s coming fast.
Twelve days to savor what’s too broken to last.
So, go home and get ready. Soon your clue will be there.
For my game will wait patiently… til you’re back in your lair.
Cade bolted out of that rickety hellhole so fast he tumbled down the stairs. All I could do was hold him tight and try to give him some sort of peace after everything.
It was all fucking useless. He still shattered into pieces I couldn’t put back together.
I should have done something more. Should have broken something. Someone. But I didn’t. I fucking froze because I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fix him.
Breathe, Barinov.
I look over the coffee table at Cade.
He’s slumped in the seat next to Roman with his head tilted toward the window. His body jolts in his sleep under a flannel blanket. Probably trapped in the same nightmare I just clawed my way out of.
Graphite still faintly stains the tips of his fingers. He stood at the sink for nearly twenty minutes when we got back to the hotel, scrubbing until the skin on his knuckles split. I tried to get him to stop but he wouldn’t. He just kept muttering under his breath that he had to get it off.
That he could still feel it.
Eventually he gave up and let me take over. But no matter how many times I tried to wash that shit off of his hands, it wouldn’t budge.
A mark neither of us could erase.
“Should we wake him?” I whisper.
Sabine shakes her head, long braids shifting on her shoulders. “No. Never wake a man when the night spirits still have their claws in him.”
I frown. “That’s not very comforting.”
“It’s bad luck and this family is already heavy with it.” Her gaze tracks to Cade. “You want to help him? Don’t drag him back into the fire.”
Her eyes land back on me, dark and glinting with something fierce. “Now, tell me what you saw.”
I tense. “It was Bella and Zeke. He was on top of her and… I…” I stop myself, the sting in my eyes growing. “Sabine, I couldn’t stop it.”
“No,” she agrees. “You couldn’t.”
That simple agreement cuts deeper than any reprimand she’s ever given me. And she’s given me plenty over the last few months.
“But you will,” she adds.
“How?” I sniffle, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. “How can we even begin to fix this shit?”
“You don’t.” She gives a brittle shake of her head. “You learn to live with the cracks. And if the bleeding ever gets too great for you alone—” She slides her hand up from my arm to my heart, her palm warm over the hammering in my chest. “You let someone else stitch ‘em closed.”
“I’m not sure I know how,” I admit.
A sudden jolt of turbulence shakes the cabin, causing the lights to flicker. Cade stirs. His brows twitch but he doesn’t wake. He lets out a low grunt as the blanket slips from his shoulder.
I lean forward and gently tug it back up. My thumb brushes over his collarbone once before I pull my hand away and sink back into my seat next to Sabine.
“I’ll help you,” she continues.
“With what?” I huff a quiet laugh. “Stitching my cracks?”
“Perhaps.” She nods, twisting a golden ring on her finger. “Although I have a plan I think you’ll prefer a little bit more.”
“What’s that?” I yawn, rubbing my eyes.
“Revenge, chéri.” She winks. “You’ve seen it before.”
“You mean like the time I was at The Pit and Celeste just slithered out of my bag?” The memory of that scales-and-fangs surprise makes my pulse spike.
Sabine chuckles behind her hand. “It’s not my fault you’re a stubborn fool who never listens when someone tells you no.”
“That thing damn near gave me a fucking heart attack!”
She scoffs. “Pretty sure you survived.”
“Barely.”
“Worked now, didn’t it?” she says. “You haven’t touched a single vial of mine since.”
I gape at her.
“But what I meant was,” she continues, grinning like the devil. “I’ll help you get revenge on those who’ve hurt her. Who’ve now hurt you boys.”
The words settle deep into my bones.
“Like with Vince.” I smirk.
“Yes.” She nods, satisfied.
The plane hums around us. The roar of the engine drowning out whatever Laing and Kenji are yapping about across the aisle next to a passed out Briggs.
“Bella’s my family too,” Sabine says, pulling my attention back to her. She leans down and rests her head on my shoulder. “And now so are you boys. I’ll help you deal with the ones who choose to hurt you.”
I hesitate. “And Zeke?”
“After what he just put you through. I think I shall leave that one for you, l’ombre.”
I pick at the deep, jagged scab forming on my arm.
“Quit pickin’ at that,” she warns, her voice piercing enough to make me stop. “It’ll fester.”
“It’s fine.”
“See,” she taunts, a slow smirk playing on her lips. “Stubborn fool.”
She leans back in her seat, folding her hands over her lap like the matter is officially settled. “Try and get some sleep,” she whispers. “I’ll keep watch over you both.”
I look across at Cade one last time. At the tension still etched into his sleeping face. At the graphite that won’t quite wash away.
I sigh, then close my eyes and let the darkness take me under.