48. Lazarus
“Now. It has to happen now.”
I snarl, not caring that I’m being irrational, illogical too.
The steering wheel feels like a live thing in my hands, vibrating with the force of the engine as I tear down the dark country lane.
The headlights cut through the dimming light, illuminating the narrow road ahead, but it’s not enough.
The shadows twist and shift, playing tricks on my eyes.
My foot presses harder on the accelerator, and the car lurches forward with a growl.
Ezekiel’s voice is tinny and distant over the roar of the engine. “Lazarus, there are things that need to be put in place. We can’t rush this.”
I swerve around a sharp bend, tyres screeching against the asphalt. My grip tightens on the wheel, knuckles white.
“Put in place?” I snap, my voice sharp and cutting. “You’ve had more than enough time, Ezekiel. I don’t give a shit about your plans or your excuses. This needs to happen now.”
The car fishtails as I take another turn too fast, gravel spraying up against the undercarriage. I correct the wheel, but I don’t slow down. I can’t.
Ezekiel says something, his voice muffled, and I don’t catch it. It doesn’t matter. I’m done listening to his half-assed reassurances.
He claims to be a prophet, and he can’t even organise a basic fucking kidnapping?
“If you can’t handle this,” I growl, the words spilling out like venom, “then I’ll act myself. And when I do, you’ll be out of everything. Do you understand me?”
The threat hangs in the air, and I can hear from the way Ezekiel breathes that he knows I’m not bluffing. He also knows I’ll tear him apart if he gets in my way.
“I can handle this,” he says finally, his tone more serious now. “I’ve received word that they’ll be traveling back to the U.K. We’ll strike then.”
I let out a harsh breath, my fingers tightening around the phone. The car jerks as I hit a pothole, and the wheel twists violently in my hands. I wrench it back into control, my jaw clenched so tight it aches.
“Good. Make sure it’s done,” I bark, my voice raw with frustration.
He murmurs something else, but I don’t wait to hear it. I end the call, tossing the phone onto the passenger seat with a clatter. The engine roars louder as I press the accelerator to the floor, the car surging forward like a beast unleashed.
Antonio’s wife is the key to all of this. If Ezekiel can’t get to her, then everything falls apart like a house of cards, and I can’t afford for that to happen. Not now. Not when I’m so damned close.
Do I care that I’m sacrificing her, a woman barely old enough to be married by our laws? No, no I don’t give a fuck. I would sacrifice her and every other Brethren daughter if it got me what I wanted.
Antonio has to be contained, Antonio has to be distracted. It’s the only way this works.
The road ahead narrows, trees closing in on either side like sentinels. My chest burns with a fury I can barely contain, my thoughts racing faster than the car. The headlights catch the glint of a signpost and I jerk the wheel to the left, the tyres skidding as I take the turn.
The car fishtails again, and for a moment I feel the weight of it tipping, the world tilting on its axis. I slam my foot on the brake, the screech of tyres echoing in the stillness of the night. The car jerks to a stop, dust swirling in the beams of the headlights.
I sit there for a moment, my hands gripping the wheel, my chest heaving. The silence is deafening, broken only by the ticking of the engine as it cools.
I lean back in the seat, staring out at the road ahead while my mind continues to race, thoughts tumbling over each other in a chaotic storm.
There’s no turning back now. No more delays. No more excuses.
It all has to happen now.