28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Eight
LYNX
Icarry Harlow back to my truck, her petite body engulfed in my warmth as her sweet candy scent fills my lungs and sends me soaring high.
This effect she has on me is undeniably the biggest problem I’ve ever encountered.
And the only solution is to continue spilling blood, slicing and dicing my way through the list of men who could want her dead, until every last body has hit the floor and she’s no longer in danger.
But there’s one remaining obstacle that I need to overcome.
Severo.
He knows I’m delaying. And he knows why. But whether he can accept that this will be the first contract I don’t successfully complete is a question that weighs heavy on my conscience.
Still, his approval won’t change my decision. I’m still going to protect her because I’m a selfish prick that way. I just pray to god he doesn’t get in my way.
Or give me an ultimatum.
I’m not sure he’d like the outcome of that.
Harlow stirs, lifting her head to peer up at me through thick lashes.
Beneath the starry sky, her caramel eyes are a warm, rich brown, lit with flecks of the finest gold.
But that silly pink highlight in her hair glows neon beneath the pale moonlight, a reminder of the rebellious streak permanently engraved in her.
“I’m still mad at you,” she rasps, her voice thick with exhaustion and a sleepy expression on her face.
I grin down at her. “You’ll get over it.”
“Hmm,” she hums in contentment, snuggling back in.
Despite her hard exterior and smart mouth, inside her lies a softness—an innocence—that every so often I catch a glimpse of. As if that sad, abused child still lives on within her, only ever peeking beyond her walls when she feels safe to do so.
The fact I’m the one that brings that out of her has me all twisted up inside.
I keep my head on a swivel, scanning our surroundings as my boots move across the soft ground.
When we exit the cemetery and close in on my truck, I spot another set of footprints that weren’t there when we arrived.
They’re close to the size of mine but not as deep.
Which means whoever was—or is—out here with us is tall but thin.
Gritting my teeth, I squint beyond the shadows, searching for any signs of who might be lurking around.
My instincts flare, the knot in my gut tightening.
Setting Harlow on her feet at the truck, I open the passenger door, toss her muddy sneakers and the clothing I peeled her out of onto the console, and help her inside.
Then I grab the jacket I keep in the back and drape it over her body, relishing the way her half-hooded eyes track my every movement.
Once she’s tucked in safe and sound, I close the door, round the hood, hop behind the wheel, and start the engine.
Turning to her, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering shut briefly before meeting mine.
A sliver of guilt lodges itself in my chest for what I’m about to do.
Harlow must sense my hesitation because she shifts in her seat and tugs my jacket up further, clutching her mother’s cross at her chest as she asks, “What is it, Lynx?”
“It’s nothing, pretty girl,” I lie. “Now go to sleep.”
She stares at me a little while longer, studying my expression as the cogs of her brain turn over.
Little does she know, I’m one step ahead of her.
As I hoped she’d do, she nods and grabs her sweater from the console, balling it up and propping it between her head and the passenger window and closing her eyes.
Within a minute, her breathing has slowed and she appears to be asleep.
Dragging a hand through my hair, I play along, discretely unloading my handgun before laying it on the dash in front of her.
Grabbing my knife from the glove box, I quietly exit the vehicle and close the door, taking the keys with me but leaving the truck idling lowly with the headlights pointed at the forest in front of us.
I hit the lock button on the key fob, turn my back, and make my way toward the abandoned church.
There’s always a chance it’s just some random lurker hanging around, but highly unlikely considering this place is in the middle of fucking nowhere.
The church is still locked up with no way inside.
None of the windows are smashed and all the doors are still chained shut.
So it’s not someone using the place as shelter.
Which means it’s more than likely one of the remaining three.
Sticking to the shadows, I slink around the side of the building and crouch low, peeking around the corner at the truck and watching with bated breath as Harlow moves around inside the cab.
Behind the tinted windows, I can make out the faint silhouette of her scrambling to get dressed.
Despite knowing her next move before she did, irritation rolls through me, thick and hot. It’s followed swiftly by the desire to punish her for her defiance.
Regardless, I hang back and wait for her to realize exactly what’s happening.
It isn’t long before she’s pulling at the door handle. But it won’t open because the system I installed in my truck—the same one cops use in their cruisers so the perp in the back can’t get out—prevents her from doing so.
“Sorry, pretty girl,” I mutter under my breath, gripping the knife in my hand tight. “But I need you to stay. Right. There.”
She’s yelling now, thumping on the door and making all sorts of noise the way I’d hoped she would.
Spotting movement behind a large oak tree off in the distance, I grit my teeth and wait for my plan to unfold.
If it’s one of the remaining three, he won’t be able to resist the worm I left dangling on the hook in front of him. His better judgment will take a back seat to impulse. Because if there’s one thing I know about predators like these, it’s that nothing trumps the satisfaction of the kill.
Like a famished dog, he’ll take the bait, only to find out he’s been trapped by a monster much scarier than him.
And there he fucking is, stepping out from shadows and creeping toward the truck, the headlights illuminating the sinister look on his narrow face as he licks his lips and closes the space between him and Harlow.
If the look on his face isn’t a dead giveaway, Harlow having my gun aimed at the glass, her finger hovering over the trigger as she counts backward from three, sure as fuck is.
Except she still doesn’t know the weapon isn’t loaded. That it was simply a tactic to get her to react this way so I could be sure I’m not about to murder an innocent person.
I glance back to the sick fuck closing in on my girl.
As suspected, he’s taller than the others. Thinner, too. With graying hair and veneered white teeth that could be seen from outer space. I wonder briefly what his name is and what he did to her.
But those details don’t matter. He touched her. He hurt her. That information alone is enough to make my palms tingle with the desire to shred this asshole to pieces.
When he’s mere feet from the vehicle, I circle around, my footfalls silent as I give him a wide berth before approaching him from behind.
The last thing I see before making my move is Harlow’s face behind the windshield, a furious expression contorting her pretty features.
“Watch carefully, little killer,” I mutter, reaching for the fucker I’m about to murder in cold blood. “Because all of this is for you.”