OLIVIA
Ialways suspected Madoc wasn’t human.
Watching him fight was one more point toward the half-cyborg, half-demon theory. He was relentless. He never stopped moving. Even when he got hit.
Especially when he got hit.
He only moved quicker. Harder.
Unlike Jax, who fought like a feral beast, teeth bared, and knuckles bloodied, Madoc attacked with precision. Every blow was considered, every hit calculated to cause maximum damage.
It proved that the Crows were more than just thieves. They were people who’d fought their entire lives just to survive, like it was second nature. Pain had become an afterthought to them.
But not to me.
I was battered, bruised, and completely useless. I was backed up against the wall. Madoc was the only thing protecting me from the grasping hands of desperate lawyers. There was little comfort in that.
Madoc showed no signs of tiring, but I knew he had to be exhausted. He wasn’t actually a demon, and his eyebrow was bleeding again. He kept wiping at his face irritably when the blood hindered his eyesight.
Then the atmosphere shifted.
It was sudden, like we were caught in the eye of the storm. Madoc stopped moving and went completely still. A new competitor had stepped into the ring.
I didn’t recognize the man. He was older, wider, hairless except for two thick, bushy brows.
I was close enough to Madoc to feel his spine stiffen. I was expecting anger.
Of course, when did Madoc ever do what I expected?
“Hello, Dick.” Madoc purred.
The man sneered at him. “I knew you were trouble the moment you pandered to that stupid bitch with the baby.”
“I made a promise,” Madoc said, adjusting his stance. The lawyers circled, but no one dared to enter the galley. “Twist and twist until Dick’s spinal cord snaps.”
The man sneered. Sweat beaded down his shiny head. “You’re unhinged, boy.”
Madoc stiffened again. This time, it was with real anger. Quiet, but heady, like I could taste it on the back of my tongue.
“Call me that again,” Madoc said, his voice softer and darker than I’d ever heard it.
I shuddered and pressed harder into the wall.
The man stepped forward, rolling up his sleeves. “We’re taking the girl. And you, boy, are going to be put in your place.”
To my surprise, Madoc didn’t strike him. He didn’t even move as the man punched him straight in the jaw. Instead, Madoc’s hands locked behind his lower back, bloodied knuckles tight like a dutiful soldier taking his punishment.
What the hell was happening?
The man struck him again, harder. Blood dripped slowly off Madoc’s chin.
I gaped at him, wondering why he wasn’t fighting back. And then I heard it—his laughter, slow and dark, like he was enjoying it.
Oh god.
This was Madoc’s true nature. The mask lifted, the demon unleashed.
Even his opponent looked unnerved as he clocked the reaction. Darkness in its purest form.
Then Madoc moved. Like a cobra strike, he was so fast my brain struggled to process it.
Madoc striking. Madoc punching.
Madoc holding, and twisting.
Snap!
My stomach dropped as bile filled my mouth. There was a shocked, breathless silence. Madoc stood, rolling his shoulders back like a predator gloating over his kill. Blood splattered his skin, dripping from his jaw, down the column of his neck.
Madoc turned to the restless audience. “Who is next?” He asked quietly.
No one moved.
For a moment, fear held them there.
Then desperation won.
They all moved, climbing into the galley, overwhelming us at once. Hands grabbed at me, but then Madoc was moving again, striking with his deadly hands.
He was a man haunted.
I’d never feared him more. I’d never been so certain of my desire to be as far away from him as possible.
And yet…
Green eyes met mine, bright in a blood-stained face. My breath hitched in my chest.
Suddenly, the intercom crackled above us.
“Attention, passengers. We have reached a new agreement. The girl will no longer be necessary for your survival. You may leave her be.”
What the hell?
All movement stopped, a stunned silence falling over the cabin. A man who’d made the heinous mistake of touching Madoc’s shoulder quickly withdrew his hand. Madoc stared at him with a disturbed smile.
“Please return to your seats for the remainder of the flight.”
The mob exchanged nervous looks, reluctant to believe it was over. Madness lingered in the blood-tinged air.
Madoc cracked his neck, looking completely at ease. “You heard the snake,” he said, and stepped forward. The mass of suits immediately recoiled as reality set back in.
Then horror took the leading role in this macabre production.
It spread just as quickly as the initial hysteria had.
There was a dead man at my feet. Likely more were scattered throughout the plane.
These people, who made their living arguing for justice, retreated to their seats, nursing bloody limbs and whatever was left of their consciences.
I sagged against the wall in relief. Madoc turned to me, his bruised hands slotted in his pockets casually. All the while blood dripped down the side of his face.
“Jax did it,” I whispered, hope creeping into my voice.
Madoc’s tongue snaked out, tasting the blood on his lip. I cringed, but I couldn’t make myself look away.
“It’s not over yet,” Madoc said, smiling. A truly gruesome sight. “Come on.”
We left the galley and walked slowly down the aisle. Faces turned away from us. Eyes avoided mine. Grown men sobbed, while some were already speaking rapidly into their phones. Confessing? Or building a defense?
One woman with a bloody lip actually scoffed at me, like I was nothing but dead weight.
She was probably right.
Madoc remained as unbothered as always, but I noticed his hands slip out of his pockets, ready for a surprise attack.
None came.
We made it unscathed to the cockpit door. Madoc paused and considered it for a moment, then raised his bloody fist to knock.
“Wait,” I said.
He waited.
I wasn’t ready to jump into the snake pit again. Not so soon after Lucille. The slideshow in my mind’s eye started once more—her glassy eyes, the blood, the gunshot—and I staggered back, shaking my head.
“I…I can’t.”
Madoc stared at me flatly. “You can.”
He didn’t understand. Death was easy to him. Hell, he’d just killed without remorse. Me, on the other hand, I was struggling. Unable to stomach it.
I wondered how much of the blood on the door was Lucille’s. How much more blood would be spilled because of me.
“Madoc,” I choked. His name felt wrong in my mouth. A plea that would always go unanswered.
Madoc moved again.
In two steps, he was in front of me, looming over me. I could smell the blood on him. The sour tang of sweat. I could map the bruises along this throat.
My eyes dragged up against my will, finding deadly green ones. They weren’t soft. They weren’t understanding. I didn’t find any sympathy, nor did I expect to. Not from a creature like him.
What I saw instead was hardness, carved from years of blood and violence. A psychopath with a fondness for mind games.
Anger sparked in my chest. “I’m not like you!” I snapped, shoving my hand against his chest, trying to force some distance. He didn’t budge. “I can’t just turn off my feelings.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t have time to hold your hand.”
I glared up at him, even as tears rushed to my eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Yes, it is.” He stepped closer, so my hand was trapped between us once more. “You want me to kiss it and make it better. Tell you it will all go away soon.”
“No, I—”
“It won’t. This will stay with you. Forever and ever.”
I winced. Damn him for never sugarcoating anything.
Madoc lifted his hand, causing me to flinch.
But he just used it to point at the cockpit door.
“You want someone to kiss it better? He’s in there, staring down a loaded gun because of you.
He will give up everything because of you.
You will not break. Not now. You have not earned the right. ” His words dripped with scorn.
God, he was right. I hated that he was always right.
Jax was in danger. Jax had thrown himself into the line of fire, again and again. I couldn’t break now. Not when we were so close to landing the plane.
One last stand.
I couldn’t stop the feelings—the terror, the anger, the overwhelming guilt—but I could swallow them. I could push through and do what he needed me to do.
What Molly needed me to do.
Seeing the resolve on my face, Madoc stepped back. There was almost a glint of his approval in his eye. I knew better than to look for it twice.
“Pay attention,” he said, leaning down to whisper in my ear. “This is what’s going to happen next.”