Chapter 43
HAYES
“There she is,” my brother coos, a smug smile brightening his terrible face.
Kneeling at his side, I try to breathe through the pain but too much is fucked—my ribs ache, most likely fractured, my wrist was crushed under a boot, and two of my fingers on my opposite hand are broken.
That on top of the reaper’s lesson? I’m in rough shape.
Roman didn’t waste time taking out his aggression on me for all my hits—my taunts over our past lifetime together. But only when I’m half conscious, broken, tied up, did he have the balls to do something about it.
No wonder he could never get to Ace. He’s a shit heir.
Peeking open one swollen eye, I watch my best friend glide through the shadows as if born from their darkness. My eyes swing to her side and my heart heaves, and I slump forward, body too weak to move.
“God dammit,” I swear, and Roman laughs.
“You brought her.” He nods appreciatively. “It’s good to see you listen to orders for once.”
Maeve stops just before the street light. In the middle of an intersection of Little Italy, we’re surrounded by heavy black chains, a fountain at my back and closed storefronts. Not even a car drives by, the hour too late, the mood too ominous.
The glint of her gun makes me smirk.
“Bruno.” She shifts, and I’m actually surprised to see both of them together. Doesn’t she know how important it is to keep Collins away from this fucker? “Seems like you hurt my second.”
“Second?” He wrinkles his nose, kicking me into the dirt. My head throbs, bile sloshing up my throat. Definitely concussed. “This is who won the games?”
“Well, after Finley defected,” her eyes glint with malice, “and Ethan died during the last trial, Hayes earned that title.”
She takes another step forward, eyes two pits of coal. They remind me of the bowels of Hell.
“Help him up.”
He waves his gun like a finger in the air. “Eh, eh. We’re not on your territory. I don’t bow for you.”
“Maybe you should.” She sneers. “Maybe you’d finally learn your place in this world: at my feet like the snake that you are.”
His smile falls, that legendary Bruno anger filling his eyes.
He hates a woman talking back to him. Add to it that it’s Ace—a woman who runs a clan, with more reach and influence than him? He’s boiling up inside. I try not to laugh, but a wheeze escapes my lips.
“Don’t test me, you little cunt,” he snaps, cocking his gun. “We both know you’re surrounded. Making a move right now would end in your death.” He snorts. “Michael should have done us all a favor and taken you out before that Godawful heart attack.”
I try to pick my head up, glancing over to Collin. My viper is standing still, fingers twitching as if she’s trying to stop the urge to intervene. Knowing her? Probably.
Those eyes—uncut emeralds with a line of silver running down the middle—flash when she looks at me again, cataloguing all my injuries. She sees the blood, the bruises, and those eyes flash again with sudden rage.
Rage over me—for me. I’ve never had that before.
“And you forget,” Maeve drawls, taking another step, “whose territory this really is. Am I surrounded, or are you?”
There’s the echo of guns locking, and Roman has the brain cells to shift, gulping loudly.
He might have soldiers set around, intent to kill Maeve the minute she signs the deal, but he forgets she’s smart. She trained to be better than any man.
And she’s a psycho. Thank God she’s on our side.
Coughing, I laugh, ribs aching. “You don’t have a chance.”
He kicks me, swearing at me in Italian. “Shut your mouth!”
Maeve levels the gun on his head, quicker than a rolling storm. “Do it again.”
“Roman, you remember how trigger-happy Ace is,” Killian says from the opposite end. A winter breeze whips through us, snow flurries drifting into my gaze, and the reaper appears like a nightmare. “How’s your shoulder by the way?”
I cough out another laugh. Maeve has landed more hits on Bruno than not. It’s fucking poetic.
Bruno looks down at me, and I see his urge to gut me. Make me hurt. Suffer.
Killian tsks, shoving his hands into his pockets. “We both know her aim is faster than you can run.” His smile turns twisted. “Do it.”
Without waiting, Collins rushes forward, dropping to her knees and pulls me into her lap. She checks my neck, my skin, fingers sticky with my blood. I’m almost ashamed I’m bleeding all over her.
The others move too quickly to track, my eyes darkening and clearing. There’s the flash of metal, the scuffle of feet, before Collins is grabbed out from under me. My shoulder slaps into the cement and I groan.
Looking up, I blink, focusing on the sight before me. Bruno stands, Collins in his arms, a gun pressed to her temple. Killian and Maeve are standing over me, and the reaper is bleeding. When did he get shot?
“Collins…” I moan, rolling over, but I can’t lift myself. My whole body throbs like a heartbeat outside of my chest, pounding against the cement.
Is this how I die?
“You think I won’t kill you for hurting my family?” Maeve asks, turning the safety off on her gun. “What’s the plan, Bruno? Steal Collins? I know where you live.”
“Consider this payment for killing my father and brother.” His hand shakes, the cold and madness finally doing him in. Collins glances at me—and she isn’t afraid.
No, my viper is furious.
Without warning, she steps on his foot, throwing her elbow into his gut and both Maeve and Killian run forward. Maeve grabs Collins as Killian points the gun upward, one single shot ringing out into the night.
But she’s not done. Roman is on the ground, holding his groin, and Collins wrestles a knife from Maeve. The pearl-inlaid handle glints with malice, and she holds it to his throat, pinning him.
This is why I call her a viper. She’s tightly wound, perfectly composed but when she’s pushed or threatened? She will strike you dead. I knew that side was under the mask and I see it now, defending me.
She’s so vicious—and God above, I’ve never been more in love.
“Payment is me, dissecting your eyes while you’re still alive,” she promises, voice deadly calm.
This is the monster Ferguson made—the doctor of pain and violence and I’m ready to bow for her.
“Payment is me cutting off your balls and making you eat them. For what you did to me, what you did to my sister. But really? The best payment would be letting Hayes throw you in the blue room hell and leaving you there to rot.”
Neither Maeve nor Killian interfere. They’re transfixed, like me, letting Collins have her moment.
“You don’t have the balls—” She stabs the knife into the joint of his arm and shoulder, a place that takes time to heal and can always act up.
Roman screams, nothing but a weak man faced with a strong woman.
“You don’t know me,” she taunts. “You don’t know what I can do.
What I will do for him.” She rips the knife out and does the same thing to the opposite joint.
“I will unleash fury on you and cut you into pieces, sew you back up and then do it all over again until you lose all concept of pain and life. I’ll do whatever it takes to make Hayes feel safe. Even if it destroys my soul.”
She pulls the knife out and a spray of blood covers the payment.
“Don’t,” Maeve commands as Collins raises the knife again. There’s a pause, and I look to her emerald eyes—twin cold stones that want vengeance. “If you kill him, you start a war.”
“If I kill him, I end his terror.”
Maeve seems to understand, walking closer to her sister. Gently, she grabs the wrist held high, prying the blade from her grip, finger by finger. “If you do, you become me.” Silently, they communicate. “And we both know you’re not me.”
My body falls back, the cold seeping into my injuries. It’s numbing, but I’m also slowly freezing. “Go to him. Let me handle this.”
She pushes Collins toward me. I don’t know where anyone is, just feel Collins’ stained hand caress my cheeks and hear her sweet sniffles.
If I’ve died, this is Heaven.
“Hey.”
Cracking a smile, I find it hard to move. “Hey.” Licking my lips, I lift my hand. “Collins, I—”
“No, you listen to me,” she interrupts. “You didn’t let me say it before, so I am now.
I love you, Hayes Monticello. I’ve probably secretly loved you since we were kids.
” She pulls me close, her body heat burning my side like a blistering flame and God, I need it.
“And I’m going to tell you every single day that I love you.
Because you need to know you’re loved. That you’re safe.
She pushes back my hair. “Forever and a day, right?”
Our promise. One for a better future—one together. How could I not want to see that day, after hearing those sweet words off her lips? Words I thought I’d never hear.
I must be dead. But I’m not second guessing this any longer. Collins loves me—if this is death, don’t wake me up.
“I love you too. For forever and a day.”
She bends down, sweetly pressing her warm lips to my cold forehead. “You’re my home, Hayes. Without you, I’m a boat lost at sea, but with you? I’m home.”