Chapter 39
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
Lizette
T he words that Ghost said to me play in my head as I listen to the fight, the grunts, the horrible words and what he wants to do to me. The terrible thump of a body hitting the ground.
My eyes itch and burn, and I can’t move.
I don’t…I don’t know what happened, who went down.
There’s silence, even as my ears ring.
In my hand’s a note.
I crumple it and let it fall.
This is a diversion. I can see it.
And I know what I have to do. To save my men. To save their pack. He lied about the bites. He told me it was too late, that the Council would come for me no matter what. They had been trying since Dad took me.
He told me Hover Valley’s a punishment for the sins of my father.
There are truth and lies in his words. And I don’t like the man, no matter how appealing his scent .
He is, I think, the evil to Dante’s good. They’re both devils, but Dante’s still in the light. Ghost got twisted up and he sank.
And if I stay, that’ll happen to the Unholy Trinity.
I slip into the bar, past where Julien and Knight are searching for Ghost and me, and I grab a hoodie that Mason left on the bar, and pull it on. Then I duck behind the bar, grabbing the garbage and a few things.
Those things I shove in my pockets. I’m out the door at the dumpsters with the garbage and then, I duck down and go out through the back alley.
Just like the note said.
If Dad took me, it was to protect me. I’m his daughter and no lies can say otherwise. I look like him. And he showed me nothing but love, did nothing but protect, try and give me the tools to not only survive, but live.
But the Council being after me? That I believe.
They found me too quickly after Dad died. Not immediately, but too soon. Like they were searching and the chance capture by the police pushed that over the edge.
That or this Ghost turned me in.
I flip up the hood of the jacket as I head to the Hollows, looking for the address I burned into my brain.
Along with the words, If you want to save them…
The Council woman Ghost mentioned, someone named Susan, he said, was waiting, risking her life. I’m not sure I believe that, but I do believe him about the Council coming for me because of my birth. And he and Dante talked about a Council girl.
Ghost said when he grabbed me, heading through the club, that the girl would help me avoid my fate.
If she’s going to help.
But while I’m doing something foolhardy, my eyes are open and I run my fingers along the tools in my pocket.
3016 Denmark Street. Apartment number one. I go to ring the bell, but in the quiet of the daytime street, when this part of town sleeps, it’s open.
My heart starts to thud as my senses scream. Every horror movie I’ve ever seen runs a similar scene through my head.
But there’s nothing else to do.
If I tell Dante, they’ll kill him, Knight too. And Reaper? He’ll be back in prison, or dead. I can’t risk it.
I take a calming breath and push the building door open and step inside.
Upstairs, I hear a TV blaring. The sweet heavy scent of weed floats from further along this floor.
Number one’s to my right. I grip the corkscrew and knock.
No one answers.
My nerves jump and skitter and it takes everything I have to knock again.
This time the door opens and a man smiles at me.
It’s cruel, greedy. And I gasp.
I know him.
It’s Jake.
I scream and go to run, but he lunges and grabs my arm, hauling me in, tossing me to the floor. When I try to get up, he backhands me. Pain explodes as I fall back.
“Stay down, bitch.”
“If I do, if I stay, will you take me to Susan?” My voice sounds slurred.
He frowns. “Who? That blonde alpha asshole’s friend? No, I don’t think so. The rules changed. I sent her elsewhere, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve got you now and you, little cunt, have caused enough problems. The fact you ruined my enterprise is enough to get you dead, but I might keep you. Start it up again.”
“What?”
“Girls. I sell the wares of sweet omegas to men who’ll never get them. You’ve been used, but you still look fresh and innocent. ”
I’m gaping at him.
“So you aren’t working with the Council?” I ask.
He snarls. “They shut us down, didn’t catch me, or maybe they really want my father’s land.” He frowns. “You being his new mate wouldn’t work for me. They’d notice you working the clubs and streets. And Liz, one look and taste of you and it’d be hands off.”
I don’t hide my shudder of revulsion.
“Where’s Susan?”
“I told you. Off somewhere, servicing men now. Weak fucking alpha bitch. Not so uppity now.” He laughs. “I turned you over to the Council, figuring with a little help, you’d end up on the streets or begging, so…I followed you. To Pandora’s, and the planets fucking aligned.”
My head spins, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“Then, when I found out who you were…I just let things fall into place. The Council had too many questions about you the moment I identified you.”
He pulls up a chair, one of the only pieces of furniture in the place. I stay down. Because if I move too soon, he could get the upper hand. And…I want to know what he does.
I breathe.
I practice the mind over emotion thing Dad taught me. I’m not that good at it, my emotions are always leaking out and taking over, but this time, I need to keep it together. For Susan. All those women. And… My alphas’ lives might rely on it.
If I get out alive.
But I’m going to give it my best try.
I despise this weak man and I use that too. The anger has strength. So I soak that up, steadying myself, and I make myself cower as I look at him.
He grins. Cruel men like him love the weak.
“I…I thought you were with them.”
“Could have been. But,” he says, “but when I went to the cops to report you and those fucks, they sent me to the Council, so I used the Council and their connections to get to you.”
“When I saw you at the restaurant?—”
“I followed you. Saw that blond asshole. Turned it into you thinking I wasn’t a threat. Pretty fucking good, huh?”
I nod, not trusting myself with words.
“The Council and the blonde were good at supplying info. Just feed them some bullshit. He wants to bring down your fuck buddies and get his hands on Dad’s region. The Council wants you for Dad. I’m going to take you and tell them that the Unholy Trinity killed you and watch them all rip each other apart. And me? I’ll get a taste of you and make money off you. Win-win. For me.”
I hate him. It’s poison in my blood, a dark strength that feeds my anger. And I make myself crawl to him and then I sit, kneeling, and put my hands in my pockets.
“Jake?”
“Yes.”
It’d be easy to think he’s insane. But he isn’t crazy. He’s sane. Just the wrong kind of greed and lusty evil that my dad warned me about.
He never warned me about men like Knight or Reaper or even Dante.
And I don’t think it’s because he never thought they existed. It’s because if I chose them, it would be me choosing men who I loved or wanted me; who wanted me as a part of their world, who’d fight for me. I don’t think he cared or wanted to know what we did behind closed doors. He kept his love life away from me.
He had to have had one.
It would break me if he didn’t.
That man deserved happiness beyond our family unit. We were very much happy. He just deserved the other part, too .
And this asshole? He doesn’t deserve anything at all.
Not even air.
“I wish you’d given me the chance to know you without the lies, Jake.” I’m lying now. “Without the drugs.”
I open the corkscrew with my right hand and flick out the little knife that cuts through metal or plastic, that locks in the cork in wine. Then I fist it. Like keys in self-defense.
In my other hand, I fist a cocktail stirrer.
I sit up, looking at him, leaning into him. “I’d have chosen you.” And I stab him in the face with the corkscrew.
He screams, staggering up, kicking at me, landing blows, and I have to curl on myself until he staggers off. Then I’m on my feet.
The corkscrew clatters to the ground in a spray of blood and I grip the stirrer tight, pick up the chair and slam it into him. It shatters. I scramble for the corkscrew, managing to grab it.
He’s stronger than he looks. He picks up a chair leg and starts beating me with it.
I launch myself at him but he laughs and bats me to the ground, kicking me.
“Fucking stupid cunt,” he yells, bringing his foot down to crush my ribs.
I roll out of the way but he kicks me in the back.
I roll again, grabbing his leg with one hand and topping him. Then I stab him hard in the balls.
He shrieks and I launch myself on him, pulling out the metal stirrer and with all my might, I bring it down on him, over and over again.
When he tosses me off him, he crawls, grabbing some wood, just as I connect with the stirrer.
He brings the wood down hard, and the world swims sickeningly.
I hold on as long as I can, and as he goes to hit me again, he comes down with it. And with the last piece of strength and consciousness, I drive the corkscrew into his eye. As my other hand flops, it hits metal; the stirrer is in his chest.
Then something thumps down on my head, making pain flare briefly, before the world goes black and still.