by G N Wright
I snort another line at the thought. I don’t even know where I am or how long I have been here. I’m outside, I know that at least, except the world looks weird, on its side. Nothing where it should be. I wish I could just end this feeling. Maybe coke isn’t the vice I need. Maybe I should pump some heroin, that always seemed to do the trick for my parents.
I try to focus on something, anything that isn’t this awful feeling inside. My vision is blurry as a dark angel wanders towards me. Maybe death has finally come to put me out of my misery.
Jace.
The black-haired siren calls out to me. It’s angelic and laced with the offer of peace, but they aren’t within reach. Not to someone like me. I am not worthy of such gifts.
Jace.
I smile as the voice pierces my bones offering me slight comfort. Maybe death is the right choice, maybe I have nothing left to offer this life anymore. I am nothing but a reckless and damaged playboy with too many vices. I couldn’t protect my sister; couldn’t protect my best friend's girl and I couldn’t protect Cassie.
Jace.
This time, it isn't just the angel's voice that touches me. This time, I feel their grip on my shoulder, it’s so life-like. I reach my hand out to clasp theirs and smile at the silkiness of it. The afterlife is going to be good for me. The slap comes out of nowhere.
I groan drunkenly, “I didn’t think angels would hit so hard.”
“Jesus’ effing Christ. Conrad, you’re a mess.” An annoyed, tired tone hits my ear.
“Does that mean I won’t be accepted into heaven?” I wonder aloud.
Two small hands grip my face and drag it to theirs, “What the hell are you on?” A fraction of recognition flows through me.
“Taylor?” I grumble in questioning.
“Yeah, it’s me. What the hell are you doing out in the park in the middle of the night?” she scolds me in accusation, as she takes in the empty bottle of whiskey on the floor beside me, the stubbed-out joints and the discarded bag of coke. Empty bag.
I try and fail to stand as I slur back, “Fucking dancing how about you?”
“I was running,” she replies simply.
“From who?” I slick my gaze around, determined to find her tormentor.
“No one,” she frowns. “I run recreationally, like when I’m stressed and shit.” She shrugs like that is a totally normal explanation for why she is out. Who the fuck runs for fun?
I snort, “Sounds terrible.”
“It’s about as bad as getting high in the park alone.” Her scold is slightly playful, and it warms me on the inside. It’s a feeling I want to grab onto and never let go.
“Touché,” I say with a smile, lighting up another joint.
“Is everything okay?” She gives the mean eyes to the joint in my hand as she talks to me.
“Fucking peachy!” I snap.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” She points to it, and when I look down, sure enough, I watch a call that I didn’t hear go off, and then the phone lights up with twenty missed calls and eleven text messages. My keepers no doubt trying to bribe me into another waste of time bullshit mission. I ditched my tracker and turned the location app on my phone off, before I started my little pity party.
She huffs at my response and when the phone starts ringing again, I actually hear it this time, she snatches it off the ground before I can protest.
“Hello,” she snaps in irritation, “Marcus?” She listens for a second and then adds, “It’s Taylor, yeah he’s here.” She looks around and then back at me, “we are in Riverside park, yeah by the bike course.” She continues to listen to whatever the fuck he is saying before she finally replies, “Yeah sure, see you soon.”
“They’re coming to get you,” she says matter of factly.
“Great,” I drag out sarcastically. I can’t wait for whatever fucking lecture I am going to get.
I finish the joint before snorting the final line of coke I had lined up. Even a hot girl in yoga pants won’t change how I fucking feel right now. God, I bet Donovan would fucking love her, tear her apart until she was begging and bleeding. The thought turns my stomach. I jump up and grip her wrist tightly.
“Ow,” she cries out at my tight grip, but I don’t relent, I can’t. She has to know exactly what kind of fucking town we live in.
“Promise me you will be safe, that you won’t let them take you!” I plead with her, trying to use every ounce of convincing I possess.
“Let who take me?” She tries to pull her arm back, but I don’t let up.
“The Devil and his disciples, you’re just their type.” I release her wrist and she pulls it back, rubbing it with her other arm, as I start to pace.
“It just got all fucked up. I finally found a family, a place where I felt loved and at home and now it's been taken from me again.” I stop in front of her and her eyes lock with mine, “I just want it back Taylor. Why does everyone always leave me?” Her eyes soften at my words.
She reaches out and palms my cheek and I close my eyes at her soft touch, “No one is leaving you, Jace. You have amazing friends and even me, I’m your friend too.”
I drop my head and pull her into my arms, just needing to be close to someone. Just to feel a little less alone in this fucked up world. Her arms come up around my waist, she can barely reach. We stay embraced like that until headlights break the moment.
When I look up, I see Marcus storming towards us, with Linc not far behind him. He doesn’t stop until he is right in front of me and grips my jaw in his fist. “Fucking high as a kite,” he sneers, but I can still see the relief in his eyes.
“Hello to you too.” I toss back.
He is so angry right now, “Hello? Fucking hello? Do you not think we have enough fucking shit going on right now without me having to be out looking for you too!” He yells in my face, and then shakes his head in disappointment.
“What’s going on here?” Taylor asks and I can see her trying to work out what the hell is happening.
Marcus ignores her as he sighs and grabs the back of my neck, “Don’t fucking do this man, I’ve lost enough, we’ve lost enough. We can’t lose each other, not now. Not with so much on the fucking line. Lock it down, okay?” His voice is serious, but I can practically feel the pleading in his words, his desperation.
I want to answer him, to tell him I’m sorry and that it won’t happen again, but I can’t. I am many things, lost, broken, wild, but I’m not a liar. I don’t say anything.
I don’t need to look at Lincoln to know he is wearing that same impenetrable mask as always. Cold and ruthless through and through. If you didn’t know him well, you would think nothing affects him. But you’d be wrong. He looks at me and then to Taylor.
He sighs gesturing to the SUV, “Come on, Taylor. We will drive you home.”
I feel her look at me, as Marcus and I continue to burn our stares into one another. I know he’s right, but he also knows why I am in such a state. He finally shakes his head one last time and stalks back to the car, getting inside and slamming the door.
Taylor slips her hand in mine and I finally break my gaze and look down at her. “Come on, Conrad. Time to go.” She says it casually and with a small smile, but it feels like so much more. It feels like everything I needed to hear at this moment. That's the last thing I remember before I pass out.
Chapter 16
MARCUS
I’m fucked. I can’t keep doing this. I need Elle, my Ells. I need to see her, hug her, kiss her. Just fucking breathe her in and never let go of her again. Six months ago, she was a ghost of my past that I pretended didn’t exist. If someone had told me then that not only would she be back in my life now, but I’d be ready to fucking die for her. I would have laughed in their face. I didn’t let her walk back into my life, I fucking dragged her, kicking, and screaming. She wanted nothing to do with me and I pretended the same. God, I was fucking stupid. I wasted so much time. Time I would quite literally kill for.
I’m lying in her bed, it’s the only place I feel close to her. This isn’t even my home, but with her scent surrounding me I can pretend that everything's okay. Even if only for a few moments. I haven’t been to Cassie’s room. Here in the house, or even her other one in the guesthouse. I can’t bear it. Can’t stand to look at her tiny clothes, her toys, her books. All of it just a reminder of how small and innocent she is, and of where she is now. Is she okay? Does she understand? God, I hope not. I hope that her contact with the Donovan’s is minimal. I just keep praying for her, to what god I don’t fucking know. All I know is I feel helpless.
I think about Elle, what will happen if we don’t get Cassie back. She’s already lost too much, dealt with too much. Losing Cassie isn’t an option, we have to bring her home, no matter what. If we can’t, well then, I might as well put a bullet in my own fucking skull, because life without those two girls wouldn’t be worth living. And I know I’m not the only one who feels like that.
I have spent more time with Asher in the last nine days than I have since I met him. He’s become one of us in every sense of the word and I can’t imagine what this would be like if he weren’t here. We seek each other out more than either of us would care to admit, both of us spiraling without our center here to keep us grounded. He finds me when I fight back tears in the garden, and I grip his shoulders as he breathes through his panic attacks in the guest bathroom. Neither of us speak a word to each other, just offer that silent hand of friendship and brotherhood to one another.
I know exactly what it’s like to lose your family, your status, your wealth. I remember the bitter feelings I had about it when I first moved to the South Side, but I see none of that in Ash. He just wants to burn his whole family, fortune, fucking name, until there isn’t a shred of the Donovan legacy left. And I want to be right by his side to help him do it. I want us all to rise from the ashes and become who we were always meant to be, destined to be, a family.
As if my mind conjured him up, he appears. “Hey,” he says with a deep sigh. He barely enters her room, like he can’t bring himself to. He won't even look around it, his sole focus on me alone. I know he’s spent many nights in this house, in this room, sharing time and life with my girl. Looking out for her when I didn’t. I have always been the jealous type when it comes to Elle, yet seeing the love he has for her, what they all have for her, it brings warmth into my life. Now I am man enough and secure enough to understand the differing levels of love we all have for one girl. I have never appreciated them more.
I sit up and push myself forward until I am sitting on the end of the bed, “Hey man.”
Neither of us bother to ask if we are okay, we know we’re not. We are just in a constant state of nothingness while we hunt, make plans and then hunt some more. All of it pointless, until now.
“Is it time?” I ask, not missing the pleading tone in my voice.
He smiles for the first time since this all started, and I find myself smiling back. “It’s time.”
“Are you sure you are okay with this?” I know he isn’t because I’m not.
He huffs a little laugh which is completely humorless, “I’m not okay with any of this,” he replies solemnly, moving until he stands in front of me, offering me his hand. I take it and he pulls me up until we are face to face. “Whatever it takes.”
I offer him another grim smile and nod. “Whatever it takes.” I repeat back, before we both turn to leave the room. We won’t set foot in this room again until we have Cassie back.
We move in unison through the house until we reach the den. Lincoln and Jace are already here, as is Logan. They all offer us both grim smiles as we enter, and I see Max and his guys going over the map of the Donovan estate for the hundredth time today. We all know it down to every square inch, but it doesn’t stop us from going over and over it in case we missed anything.
This is about to be the riskiest thing we have ever done and if we can pull it off without getting caught, then Cassie will be back with us in just a few short hours. I know how desperate we all are for that reality. With Cassie comes Elle. If we can bring home, her daughter then it will help us in getting her back to us too. A lot has happened, more than she knows and as broken as she is going to be with everything, Cassie will keep her intact.
I look at everyone here, at the men who are going to save my girl’s life and I hope we all make it back here tonight. For once, we look like we belong together. We are all fitted out in black combat trousers, long black sleeve tees with Kevlar vests. Black combat boots and a weapons belt. Each of us have an array of weapons supplied to us by Max, along with lessons on each in preparation. We have been working on this plan for the last three days.
Max is pissed that Asher came up with it, but none of us care, we just want Cassie home and Elle back. When Asher remembered the abandoned tunnels underneath his house, we wasted no time in looking into them. Lincoln brought up historical blueprints for the mansion, Oliver came up with routes we could take to access them and then Max and Liam spent yesterday checking them all discretely to see if they were still viable. Once we had everything we needed, we had to come up with a plan. Which is pretty simple really, get in, get Cass, and get out.
We have all agreed that this needs to be as quiet and stealthy as possible. No matter how much we want to go in there guns blazing and slaughter every one of them. Our only priority is getting Cassie. That being said, we know we are also working under the shoot first, ask questions later policy. Anyone associated with Donovan can’t be trusted to not raise the alarm. Meaning anyone we come across needs to be killed or put to sleep. It doesn’t matter. As long as we get to Cassie without anyone alerting others to our presence.
“Okay does everyone remember what they’re doing?” Max’s voice booms around the den and we all nod our agreement.
“My inside contacts said to be there for 10pm. There is a guard shift change at nine, so it gives them a chance to swap, leave and get settled,” Asher replies, and I see the flex of his hand as he forces himself not to fidget. The loss of control for him is something he isn’t accustomed to.
“That’s good Ash, keep us posted if anything changes,” Max responds.
“Lincoln will take a bug to freeze the feeds as they pass them. I’ll run interference from the van and keep a look out for anyone on their tale.” Liam adds as he taps away on his laptop, and I see Lincoln nodding along as he reads whatever's on there over his shoulder.
“Great. Remember what I said, in and out as quiet as possible and stick to your planned routes. Recon has both Elliot and Greg at the Mayor's house for his annual bullshit Christmas party, which means Cassie should be where Ash's contact said.”
I take a deep breath, digesting all the information I’ve already heard and just pray we have done enough. Nothing can go wrong. It just can’t. When we all nod in silent agreement, he continues.
“Okay, well there is only one thing left to do then.” He adds solemnly and we all grimace at that. “I am comfortable with doing it, I have known both of them a long time, they are my friends, but I can keep it short and to the point.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that will help.” Asher snorts in disgust. He thinks this is the worst possible thing to do. Thinks we shouldn’t, but we have to.
“We have no choice; we need her to come home.” Mason adds quietly.
“This is going to break her.” Jace replies bitterly.
“She’s already fucking broken.” I boom and they all quieten. This is probably the worst thing we are about to do to Elle. We are about to rip her world apart even more than it already is. Max says it’s the only way.
Logan breaks the silence, “I’ll do it,” we all look at him. “I’m their brother, it should be me.” His tone is full of despair and I know how much pain he is in. How much pain I am in and how much pain Elle is about to be in.
Max nods, pulls the burner phone from his pocket, and walks across the room to meet Logan, “Make the call.”
Whatever it t
akes.
Chapter 17
ELLE
Iam covered in sweat and blood. The guy in front of me is someone I have wanted to kill for an exceedingly long time. Brett Buckley. He is one of three men who held me down while Greg ruined me. I have never forgotten his face, his laugh or the feel of his fucking fingers digging into my skin. None of it. From the potent smell of cigars to the stench of his sweat. All of it has been engraved into my mind since that night. Greg might have been the only one to rape me, but that doesn’t mean the others aren’t just as guilty. They all deserve to bathe in the Devil’s flames for what they force girls to endure. I aim to cause them just as much pain in return.
I relish in the sound of my knuckle duster smashing into his cheek as he screams out in pain. The more time that slips by without Cassie, the more I am losing control. I could have just put a bullet in his head and moved on, but he needs more than that. I need more. That’s how we ended up here. In my torture cabin in the middle of butt fuck nowhere as I beat him bloody. I picked him up at his house, drugged him, threw him in the trunk and then dragged him in here.
For the last hour. I have taken my time in learning all about what makes him scream. Most guys would love the thought of me getting to know their bodies intimately, certainly sounds appealing. But not how I do it. First, I shattered his kneecap with a hammer, then I cut off all of his toes. When his cries got louder, I sliced open his forearms. There is blood everywhere. It’s fucking beautiful.
I punch him again and the burn of the exertion makes me feel fucking alive, reminds me why I’m here and what I’m fighting for.
“What’s the matter Buckley, not a fan of the screams when they're your own?” I taunt as I drag the blade in my other hand down his cheek. He cries out again. His face is a mixture of tears, sweat and blood. Something I know he has seen on countless victims, but he still thinks he can defend himself.
