Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
CREED
M en like Gordon Yates play God with people’s lives like they are moving pieces on a board. But to do that to his own kid? She was a fucking child. If nobody protected her then, I sure as fuck will protect her now.
I have never hated anyone more than I hate Gordon now.
I don’t have to sneak in, simply push open the front door and make my way to his study.
Tonight, I am not here for a business meeting or to keep Amelia’s mouth shut. Tonight, I am here for blood.
The house is quiet.
I move through the hallways, past the expensive artwork and imported décor, this facade of civility, until I reach the study. The door is cracked open, golden light spilling into the hall.
Inside, Gordon sits behind his desk, a glass of scotch in his hand. He looks up as I enter
“Ah, Creed. Was I expecting you?” He swirls his drink, smirking as if he already has me figured out. “I couldn’t help but notice you driving in with my daughter.”
I step inside, closing the door behind me. “You know why I’m here then?”
Gordon chuckles. His eyes are sharp, calculating. The kind of man who never loses, because he always has a plan.
“You think you’re the first man to come in here looking for revenge?” He leans back in his chair, completely unfazed. “I’ve buried better men than you.”
A slow, cold rage curled inside me. “That so?”
He takes a sip of his drink, sighing like this is all a minor inconvenience. “I assume this is about Mackenzie running her stupid little mouth again?”
I clenched my fists.
His smirk deepens. “So what is this then? You think you’re her savior? That she needs you to fight her battles?” He shakes his head, amused. “Mackenzie was born in darkness, just like the rest of us. You think killing me will change that?”
I move before I can think, shoving his scotch across the desk, sending it crashing to the floor. My hands curl around his collar, yanking him forward. “This isn’t about changing anything, old man,” I growl. “It’s about making you pay for what you did to a six-year-old.”
He chuckles, even as I tighten my grip. “Go on then,” he taunts. “Do it. Become the monster she’s been raised to love.”
I freeze.
The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing—playing me like a fucking instrument.
I shove him back into his chair, my breathing sharp, my pulse hammering.
He straightens his collar, unbothered. “I told you. Men like me always win. Mackenzie knows that everything she’s been through has been for her own good.”
I step back, forcing the rage down. He wants to make me second guess this. But if I am going to do this. I have to do it now. I am not going to give him that.
I put my hand on the handle of my knife.
But when I turn, Gordon has a gun pointed at me.
He cocks the hammer back, aiming straight at me. “I should put a bullet in your skull.”
I smile. “Are you sure about that?”
His jaw twitches, but he holds his ground.
“You threaten me in my home. You’ve started a war you can’t win. You think St. Jude’s Guild will let you walk away after this? Let her walk away. We’re bound by centuries of rules, Mr. Torres.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your threats.” Mackenzie already told me about the secret society they belong to.
He swallows, but his voice is steady. “Mackenzie does. Do you think she’ll be happy with some deadbeat mechanic that couldn’t keep his business and had to resort to fucking my frigid wife to stay afloat.”
That makes me pause.
Gordon leans forward, sensing the shift. “I will destroy you. Mackenzie will never be able to escape this life. The Guild will ever let her go. They will go to the ends of the earth to find her. She knows too much.”
I grit my teeth. I hate that he’s right.
But that doesn’t mean I am letting him walk away.
“You’re not untouchable,” I growl. “Not anymore.”
His glare is pure hatred. “Mackenzie will always put the Guild first. It’s her calling. It’s in her blood.”
I smirk. “Not anymore, Gordon. She’s with me now.”
He stands and his hand is around my throat before I can react, shoving me hard against the desk. Papers scatter, the heavy whiskey decanter crashes to the floor, shattering into a thousand jagged pieces.
I grit my teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me struggle, but he’s stronger than I expected. His grip tightens, cutting off my air.
“You think you can take her from me?” he snarls, his breath hot with whiskey. “She belongs to this life. To me. ”
I lift my arm, trying to push and disarm him at the same time.
His eyes flicker to the barrel just as my finger curls over the trigger.
The struggle is fast, brutal. His knee slams into my ribs, but I twist, shoving him back. His hands claw at my wrist, fighting for control. The room tilts as we slam into the bookshelf, books tumbling to the ground, and then—
A deafening shot rings out.
The impact sends me staggering. I brace myself for pain, for the burning sensation of a bullet tearing through me.
But I feel nothing.
It takes me a second to realize why.
Gordon stumbles back, eyes wide in shock. His mouth opens, but no words come. Blood blooms across his chest, dark and rapid, soaking through his pristine white shirt.
His legs buckle. He crumples to the ground, a choked sound escaping his lips before his body goes still.
Silence.
My pulse roars in my ears as I stare at him, the gun still warm in my hands. The scent of gunpowder lingers in the air, mixing with the coppery tang of blood.
I don’t move. I don’t breathe.
And then—
A gasp.
I whip around just as Amelia Yates steps into the doorway, one manicured hand clutching the frame. Her face is pale, her lips parted in shock.
But my gaze shifts past her.
Mackenzie stands just behind her mother, frozen in place.
Her wide eyes lock onto mine, and I see it—the disbelief. The relief. And the moment she realizes exactly what I’ve done.