Chapter 40
Mace
F ury ignites my blood.
I yank my twin off Emily, hauling him through the doorway and into the bedroom in the same move to get him as far away from her as possible. The remnants of the shattered mirror crunch underneath him as he crashes into her dresser across the room.
When I heard her scream, my body jumped into motion: I all but knocked my bike over, ripping my helmet off while taking a running start at her window. I couldn’t get to her fast enough.
If I had been a second later…
Ash kicks to his feet, dusting himself off. “Well, well, well… brother,” he says, leveling his glare. “Can’t say I’m surprised you dropped by. I knew she was lying about seeing you.”
He saunters toward me. Forefinger raised to my chest, he tips his head to the side and lifts his chin in a nod. “You thought I didn’t know you were fucking her behind my back? ”
I don’t respond to his accusation. My face remains a blank mask, revealing none of the rage surging in my veins.
An equally calm expression stares back at me. “Walk away, Mason,” Ash suggests.
“No!” My reply leaves my throat on a possessive growl. If he wants to get to Em, he’ll have to go through me. “You won’t touch so much as another hair on her head.”
I feel her eyes rake over me from the hall to my right, but I don’t take mine off Ash even for a split second. His right hand reaches toward the small of his back in a slow, deliberate manner, and I know he’s going to draw a weapon.
His fingers clasp the knife loosely, letting me see the details of the grip before he flicks the switch to release the blade. He’s brandishing a knife identical to the one I had, a twin to the one I got rid of after my blackout.
I saw the news on Vince. My knife. My mask. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but the evidence had been right there on my clothes.
How can I not fucking remember?
I watched myself kill him in cold blood and still can’t recall a single thing about that night, including the note I left on Em’s mirror.
I hated the guy, but I didn’t wish him dead. I’m not a murderer. What I did to Ely was justice. He was a predator. True evil. Vince was just a dick.
“Remember what happened the last time you tried taking me on,” Ash warns. “You sure you wanna take that chance?”
I grind my teeth behind sealed lips. I have no intention of letting him lock me in a chokehold again .
He gets my answer when my fists come up. My feet shift into an attack stance, weight balanced and muscles primed.
“Fine.” He raises the knife between us, the tip pointing toward me. “But no tapping out this time.”
A roar bursts from me, and I charge him. Head low, I aim for his chest in a full-on tackle.
Ash’s boots lose traction as I lift him. Wrapping his legs around my sides, he grabs a hold of my sweatshirt at the back before I slam him to the ground.
I feel the knife stab my left shoulder. Pain sears white-hot where it slices through the fabric to plunge into the muscle when I go down with him, but I don’t let it stop me. My gloved fists descend on his skull in a blind fury.
Catching his wrist, I block the knife from taking another stab. I’m on my knees, Ash’s ankles locked at my lower back as we roll through shards of glass, grappling each other.
I slam his hand to the floor, but his fingers remain locked around the blade’s grip.
Clutching the front of his sweatshirt with my other hand, I lift him, then drop his back a second time.
Ash’s ankles unlock at my back.
I flip him over, shoving his face into the floor. My left knee pins him down. With my grip still cuffing his wrist, I twist his arm behind his back and bend his elbow the wrong way.
“Drop it!” I shout when he howls in pain.
His grasp around the knife loosens. It hits the ground with a clatter, and I kick it out of his reach .
Ash uses my brief imbalance to free himself, spinning around and taking a swing at my temple. My skull rattles. My knees buckle.
He overpowers me. Tugging my arm forward, he locks me in a triangle choke with his legs. His thighs squeeze, but not enough to restrict the blood flow to my brain. He’s toying with me like he was toying with Em.
“There’s a question that’s been burning on my mind forever,” he says, his right hook crushing the reinforced knuckles of his glove into my cheekbone. “What’s your kill count for DeMarco?”
The ringing in my ears picks up. “What?” He’s never ordered me to kill anyone.
“Mine’s 32.”
I suck in a clipped breath.
“I don’t even blink anymore,” Ash boasts. “But there were a few extra ones I did on the side for free. Personal reasons, you know? Like Vince.”
“ You killed Vince?” My trapped hand fists his sweatshirt at the collar while I push against his leg with my other in an attempt to free myself. My boots get no traction.
“I really had you convinced you did it, hadn’t I?” He snickers proudly. “I was just coming back to the club after silencing that rat Bates when I saw you with Vince.”
I went to the Lotus? My muscles relax with the shock.
FUCK!
Jillian .
An image of my hands around the unconscious brunette’s neck comes into focus.
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK !
“Man, I thought you were going to gut him right there,” Ash continues, his legs giving me another squeeze. “I was so psyched to watch you hit him… but you didn’t. You just walked away. What a bitch move. I couldn’t believe it.”
I didn’t kill Vince! I want to feel relieved at that, but more images suddenly flood my mind.
“Well, I figured, if you weren’t going to slice him up, then maybe I should,” Ash rambles on blithely while my head is in a tailspin. “So I did. Shanked him real good. And then I went to see our girl here.”
My attention snaps back when he nods toward Emily. “Left a little love note on her mirror while she was sleeping. I might have copped a feel too. She looked so peaceful. I wanted to hear whose name she would moan, yours or mine.”
“And how did that go for you?” I quip in a knowing lilt.
Ash’s high spirits drop. His jaw clenches, and the growl forming in his throat confirms my suspicion.
A spark of pride warms my chest. That’s my girl.
“You don’t fucking deserve her,” he grates out.
“So you killed Vince, and you were going to frame me for it to get rid of me?”
“You made it too easy, brother. When I got home, you were sleeping. I switched our clothes. We’ve done it so many times, you didn’t even notice. The gloves, too.” He lifts his hand in the air in a taunting motion. “Can’t even tell, can you?”
“Why, Ash? ”
“You’re weak, Mason. Ely saw it, and so does DeMarco. That’s why he calls me when he needs someone to disappear for good.”
To make a point, Ash stops fucking around. The triangle choke of his legs around my neck and arm lock tight.
“Don’t forget.” His voice drops into a low whisper. “You let me fuck her first… and all it cost me was a couple of donuts.”
His words hit their mark. My rage rekindles with new fuel. I clench my left fist and ram the plastic covering my knuckles into his balls as hard as I can.
Ash howls again. His hold loosens.
The second I feel the release, I push up and scramble toward the knife I kicked away. It slid across the hardwood and came to a stop by the knocked-over nightstand.
Grabbing hold of my boot, Ash pulls my leg out from under me before I can reach it. I hit the ground. He dives for the blade and beats me to it, already twisting. I can’t even draw a breath so fast. He reaches back and buries the knife in between my ribs.
I cry out in agony. It’s lodged in deep—much deeper than the stab at my shoulder earlier caused by my tackle.
Despite the adrenaline rush, this time I feel the pain everywhere.
Fire ignites my muscles from head to toe, making me dread even the smallest movements, but I can’t give up now. I can’t let him get to her.
Ash jumps to his feet behind me. I hear the rustle of clothes. When I push up and swing around, I find him aiming the barrel of a gun at my chest.