Lost to Thievery (Thievery Duology #2)

Chapter 1

Ava

Hell.

I never believed in it, but standing in the darkest pits of it could reform a person.

Our bedroom echoed my arrhythmic, shallow breaths. It was left completely barren, just like my insides. The rest of Grayson’s apartment in Willsbury City was just as desolate, just as devoid of them.

My complete and utter hell.

They left nothing behind.

Except for me.

I was the only reason the FBI milling about even knew they’d been here.

My memories were the only thing tethering them to this place.

There were no scuff marks from the bed, where he made me his, over and over again, and then whispered sweet nothings in my ear while we laid tangled in the bedsheets and each other.

There was no proof of how he fucked me against every wall and window of this room, like each time was our last. There were no fingerprints on the wall, where he steadied himself while I worshipped him on my knees that last night.

Worshipping the devil.

His cold chuckle, as he shook his head at my naivety, echoed through my body. “This is not hell, Princess. Hell comes later.”

The memory burned through me, devouring the little I had left of myself.

You knew, Gray, didn’t you? Right then, you had already planned this hell for me, flat out taunted me with it.

And I’d been too much of a lovesick puppy to see it.

“We found something,” Agent Becket’s voice slipped through my bitterness. He pulled at the tips of his latex gloves, looking conflicted. The same expression he’d worn before he showed me the CCTV footage of Grayson’s betrayal.

I steeled myself as I stepped out of the bedroom, out of the haunting memories. “Show me,” I answered bravely.

“We found a basement room that seems to fit our bandits’ style,” Agent Becket explained as we made our way down some stairs and into the dark basement of the building.

We walked past a few doors, some open to show an array of dusty, forgotten items. At the very end of the walkway, stood a few agents before a closed door.

My heart sank to the dirty floor as we neared it—my instincts already knowing what laid behind it.

Death.

Agent Becket paused with his hand on the silver doorknob. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

I nodded, willing my legs to walk forward and not run back the way we came. As soon as I walked through the door, a sickening feeling settled in my chest. Pain. There was so much pain in this room.

Yet, everything looked spotless. Like a strange operating room in a hospital.

On one side of the room was a weird-looking contraption, surrounded by steel tables.

The contraption stood upright, but it could be laid flat as well.

Five steel beams came together like a star, with a strap on each beam.

Underneath it was a large pan with a drain on one end, flowing into a clear plastic bag.

“A torture room,” I realised breathlessly, my heart pounding in my throat.

Agent Becket nodded and gestured me over to a table in the far side of the room.

Behind the table, strung up on the wall, was an eerily colourful birthday banner.

But instead of Happy Birthday, it was changed to Happy Deathday.

On the table beneath it was an extravagant display, looking like a table decorated for a party.

But the chosen décor made my stomach turn.

The centre piece was a cage with a single nightingale bird. And the cake topper was a tongue. A human tongue.

Fingers and toes were dished onto a silver platter, garnished with mint. There was a martini too, but instead of olives on the stick, it was two fleshy spheres.

“Testicles,” Agent Becket answered when he saw my confusion.

I gagged and quickly turned away from the table.

Another agent walked up to us, eyes on the display, unable to look away from it. “That’s definitely our victim. But we found no other traces of Anderson in here. This is not the place of death.”

“No, it is,” I answered turning back to the display, fighting not to hurl my guts out at the tongue Charles had stuck down my throat so many times, now a cake decoration.

The agent looked at me, puzzled. “But there’s not a trace of DNA in this room.”

I looked around. “Anderson definitely died here. I think this place was created just for him.”

The guy shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would they kill someone here, then meticulously clean the crime scene, as if they were never here, just to leave all this proof?” He gestured towards the display table. “It doesn’t add up.”

Agent Becket looked away from the table for the first time.

“It’s a message. Varon’s letting us know that we won’t find anything he doesn’t want us to find.

” He rubbed the underside of his chin. “What I don’t understand is what all this means.

Yes, it’s a party. We’re celebrating Anderson’s death.

But why the bird? And why make the tongue the centrepiece? It has a light shining onto it.”

I swallowed hard. “Do you know the story of Princess Philomena?”

Agent Becket stared at me, shaking his head.

I took a few steadying breaths, trying to force the vomit back down.

“Princess Philomena’s sister married a king named Tereus and went to live with him in Thrace.

Five years later, King Tereus escorted Philomena to Thrace to visit her sister.

But during the journey, King Tereus couldn’t control his lust for Philomena and raped her.

He told her not to speak of it, but she was adamant in telling her sister of his sins.

So, the king cut Philomena’s tongue out to keep her quiet.

But she found a way to tell her sister, and they got revenge on King Tereus, taking something from him that he cared about most—his family, his son.

Philomena and her sister fled before the king’s rage, and prayed to the gods to help them, so the gods turned Philomena into a nightingale before Tereus could kill her. A forever silent nightingale.”

Agent Becket was quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the table. “So, this all is for you? He knew you’d understand all this?”

I nodded. Grayson always enjoyed leaving secret little messages to me that only I would understand. At least that hasn’t changed.

“It’s a warning to you. To stay quiet.”

“And a promise to kill me, if I hurt his family,” I added numbly.

“Damn,” the other agent swore. “Weren’t you like… lovers?”

I laughed bitterly, phantom claws ripping at my chest, cleaving it open.

“No, not really, if he’s threatening to cut my tongue out for talking to you.

” But a desperate, twisted side of me relished at the secret message.

He was threatening me, but he was communicating with me.

In our secret little language of codes and stories.

I hated the way my stomach fluttered at the thought. And not only that, but he’d also cut out Anderson’s tongue and left it for me.

I pressed my palms over my eyes, shaking the thought out of my head.

No, I was insanely delusional. It had nothing to do with that last night.

It had nothing to do with the promise Grayson made when Anderson insulted me in his office.

I was a stupid fool for thinking that he still cared.

He never cared. I’d been a mere pawn in his chess game.

A na?ve, thoughtless little pawn. Easily sacrificed once I’d fulfilled my purpose.

“Get back to work, Taylor,” Agent Becket ordered, and the agent backed away immediately, an apologetic smile on his face.

Becket clasped his hand around my arm, steering me out of the room. “This was all for you,” he whispered against my ear.

I fought the tears back. “We’ve already established that,” I countered bitterly.

Becket pushed me into another dusty storage room, looking around to make sure we were alone before gripping my shoulders tight. “Ava, he left that message for you.”

I stared at him, confused as to what he was getting at.

“He knows you’re working with us. He must’ve been watching you. He knows and he’s threatening you to stay quiet. To stop.”

I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. An onslaught of polar-opposite emotions washed through me. He’s been watching me. He’s watching. He’s been with me this whole time.

But he wasn’t here to come get me; to swoop me up into his arms. No, he was here to make sure I kept quiet. To kill me if I didn’t.

“I think it’s best if you lay low for a while. I’m taking you home.”

“No!” I objected fiercely. “You promised. You promised I’d get to make him suffer!”

Becket gripped my shoulders tighter. “Ava, listen. You need to go home. Let him think you heeded his warning. Let him think you’ve chickened out and moved on. Let him think he has won. Give him the opportunity to drop his guard.”

I stared intensely at Becket, considering his words. It made sense. We would never be able to catch Grayson if his guard was up.

I relented. “Only if you keep me in the loop. Only if you let me be there when you take him down. I need to be there. Don’t screw me on this, Becket. Don’t leave me behind.” I jabbed my finger into his chest as the desperation made my voice break.

Becket’s eyes softened and I had to look away at the pity there. “I won’t. You have my word,” he promised.

We made our way back up to the apartment, but I decided to sit outside the door and wait for Agent Becket to finish up. I couldn’t make myself go back inside, just to be confronted with all the nothingness.

“Ava,” a voice, vaguely familiar, made me jump.

My nerves were fried. I was a mess.

I looked towards the voice. Shaun.

Gods.

I jumped to my feet, ready for whatever he and the serious-looking Wesley behind him was about to do to me.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than what I’d already endured.

I’ve already paid for my sins against Charles and his men tenfold.

His son couldn’t do much worse than what Grayson had done to me.

How did he know about this place anyway?

“You fucking bitch!” Shaun spat as he reached me.

I flinched, bracing for impact as he lifted his hand towards me.

It came down across my face, pain instantly blooming across my cheek as my head snapped to the side.

Everything went dark for a second, but the adrenaline shooting through my veins quickly brought me back to reality.

I suddenly had the urge to laugh. It seemed like Grayson had held back the day he’d slapped me across the face like this. It hadn’t been nearly as painful then. And Grayson was a hell of a lot bigger than Shaun.

I caught a flash of Shaun’s hand, getting ready to strike again, but it never came down on me.

I peered up to see Agent Becket blocking the punch, then swiftly push Shaun away, making his back collide with the wall on the other side of the passage.

Becket stepped between us. He reached to his side and unclipped his gun in a swift, practiced motion as Shaun lunged for me again.

“Do it, you piece of shit! Come on! Give me a fucking reason,” he barked at Shaun.

Shaun hesitated as he stared down the barrel of Owen’s gun. A swarm of agents took them to the ground. Wesley went willingly without a struggle, but Shaun fought to keep his hateful stare on me.

“What the fuck is she doing here?!” Shaun screamed, spittle flying from his mouth, as he careened his neck towards me, veins popping in his red face. “Why’s she not in prison?”

I backed away from the chaos in front of me, pushing my back against the opposite wall, not able to look away at the hate in Shaun’s eyes.

“My father, Ava!” he screamed raggedly at me again, as they placed the cuffs around his wrists. The hurt in his voice summoned the tears I had thought were all used up by now.

What have I done?

Charles might have deserved to die, but Shaun didn’t deserve to lose a father. How many of those other men had children?

Their lifeless bodies, soaked in blood swam beneath my lids, drowning me.

Gods, what have I done?

“You…” His broken word ended in a groan as they yanked him off the ground.

He struggled to keep me in sight as they dragged him away.

A man who had once loved me, looked at me with such hate that I wanted to die.

I deserved to die. For what I’d done to him.

And all the other children I didn’t even know about.

“If he’s dead, Ava! I swear to God, I will fucking kill you! I will kill you!” he bellowed down the passage, until he couldn’t see me anymore.