“What can I get for you?” The woman at the counter asks.
“I’ll just take an espresso and one of those sandwiches,” I nod my head towards the display.
“Five minutes,” she informs me. I nod and go sit down at the only seat available at the edge of the bar. My body tired and my mind running through a million different situations. What if my brother is here? What if he isn’t? What if we can’t find the dagger? We need to get fucking moving.
It’s only been a singular minute. A fucking minute before a shadow falls over my shoulder, and the sound of an unfamiliar voice has me sighing. Why are men so predictable?
I turn to face the man that has been staring at me since I stepped down into the lobby, his eyes dark and hazy, clearly drunk off his ass.
“Can I help you?” I ask him.
“An American?” He raises his brows while leaning a hand on the counter next to me.
“I think you know the answer to that,” I drawl feeling more tired.
“No need to be rude.” He offers me an upset look, “what’s your problem? I’m just trying to get you a drink.”
Never asked for my drink order, for the record.
“No you aren’t,” I retort dryly. “Why don’t you go sit back down?”
“Why are you acting like such a cu-”
A deep voice has me shivering as John speaks, “I’d be very careful of what you say next.”
I feel my lips pull up as John circles around, and the man backs off, tripping backwards as he tries to not fall over. Idiot.
“Thanks, honey,” I chime.
John shakes his head, and places an arm on either side of the counter so I’m caged in. Comfortably. I tilt my head up and he press a soft but claiming kiss to my lips as I breathe in his familiar scent.
“Miss?” The cafe worker’s voice has both of us turning as John takes the prepared food and press a hand to my back, leading me upstairs.
“You’re a hazard,” he mumbles as we get closer to the penthouse.
I grin, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I mean, you can’t go anywhere ever again by yourself,” he mutters.
My lips break into a smile as I let out a laugh. He smiles at my laugh and then tugs me to a stop, his hip pressing me into the stair railing slightly. I frown as he puts down the tray on a nearby table and grasps my face gently.
“I love you, little bird,” he whispers softly. “God, I love you so fucking much, Robyn.”
A shiver goes through me as I feel a pleasurable happiness break through my chest, and I say softly, “I love you too, John.”
Something about my words brings him so much happiness, that he presses a passion filled kiss to my lips as I sigh into him. What the fuck are these men doing to me? I grip his shirt tightly as he groans, and brushes a thumb across my hardened nipple.
“As much as I love watching this,” Archie’s voice breaks both of us apart as the man offers me an amused look. “We need to start getting ready.”
John lets out a low annoyed sound, but I can see the happiness lighting up his multi-colored eyes, and it has me feeling as though I did something right. Maybe trusting him isn’t the scariest thing in the world. The three of us make our way into the penthouse, and after eating quickly, I find myself slipping into the mood of doing a job. I love this.
I was born for this.
My red hair was easy to tie back in two braids as I pull on a pair of leggings and a tight zip up top that allows me to carry several things, including a gun and several tools I usually use for my break-ins. I tug on my boots with a special bottom that have more grip than normal. I’m just adjusting my ear piece when Archie walks into the bathroom and leans against the shower, offering me a worried look.
“What?” I frown, feeling like he’s over analyzing me.
He chuckles softly, an edge of dominance appearing, as he approaches me from behind, and traps me against the counter, my breathing spiking just slightly. He runs his nose against my neck and speaks softly, “sweetheart, use that tone again and I’m going to take you over my knee.”
“Is that a promise?” I sass out as he hardens against my ass and nips at my pulse before pulling back. I allow him to tip my chin up so we are looking at one another, nearly nose to nose.
“I need you to promise me you’ll be careful,” he whispers.
“Archie,” I mumble, “I’ve done this like a million times-”
“And every single fucking time I’ve been worried,” he whispers softly.
My eyes widen as he nips my nose pulling back. “You think that just because I don’t talk to you about it, I don’t know? Your brother has given me complete access to your systems. I’ve always known where you are and what you’re doing.”
The predatory look he’s offering me has my toes curling.
“Stalker,” I goad slightly as his lips twerk up, but he doesn’t deny it.
“Promise me,” he orders, serious again.
I search his eyes, realizing that he is indeed concerned. I nod, “alright, I promise.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs ,and presses a searing kiss against my lips. Then he’s gone. Bastard.
I’m muttering to myself angry like a crazy person, when I run right into Richard. A serious look passes over his expression as he grips my hip to stabilize me. He opens his mouth, but I beat him to it.
“Don’t you dare tell me to be careful.”
His grin grows as he chuckles in that God damn sexy tone. “No Red, I’m not worried about your capabilities. I just wanted to see if you were ready to go and… if you’re prepared for the possibility that we may find your brother.”
I think the hardest thing to prepare myself for is if we don’t find him.
I take a deep breath and nod. “I’m ready, really.”
With that said, the four of us began our journey downstairs, the only things I brought are attached to me so my hands can be free. I slip into our SUV as I relax into the leather seats thinking through what the fuck is going to happen. I was so distracted, that the feel of Archie’s hand on the back of my neck had me jumping. I turn to look at him and he stops working on the speaker system and laptop he had open.
“Breathe,” he demands softly.
“I’m fine,” I brush him off, “just want to get there.”
We get there far too fast.
Before long, we’re parking in the distance and an eerie fog takes over the space. The stone building is on a higher piece of land, so our car is covered in a thick fog. I look over at the boys before pulling Archie into a kiss and hoping out. He’ll be in our ear the entire time. My feet make a very soft sound on the stone street as the three of us begin moving through the fog.
There’s a front entrance, but we plan on using the back entrance, and I’m glad I ate something because it’s requiring far more energy than I expected to go this way. The entire back pathway is nothing but rock, stone, and fog. I try to move with as much grace as possible as the men follow after me silently. I freeze when a small rock breaks from under my foot and tumbles a short way. Richard’s silver eyes seems to be almost flowing as John offers me a reassuring ankle squeeze.
It’s so fucking odd doing a job with people. People who I think I trust. Which is fucking weird in itself. Not so much John, but Richard. I fucking trust Rich. Oh God. I clearly need a drink. Instead, I pull myself up and over onto the flat surface as the black stone building grows over us in a daunting and menacing fashion. I’ve done a lot of jobs, but I have to admit, this is a fucking doozy.
“You’re going around?” I look at the two of them.
John shakes his head, “no point, they have a security guard. We might as well go with you.”
Richard grunts in acknowledgement. I look at both of them and nod, taking out the picks I have and they take them. “Use those, I’m free climbing.”
John makes a low worried noise as I chuckle and place a foot on the dark brick underneath my left foot and grip the wet stone. Here
we go. I easily start to pull myself up the building and after a few moments, the men follow after and that makes me feel secure. I have someone looking out for me and while it’s a jarring realization, it also makes me feel comforted.
When I finally reach one of the ancient windows of the archives, I pull it open and duck underneath it, my nails hurting from gripping the iron. After looking, I pull my body up and over into the room. Do you know how much fucking strength that shit takes? I land softly in a crouch position before standing and looking around the dark library. I feel John land behind me and I wait until Richard joins us. I point along three different paths because, frankly, this place is massive, but we do know the top floor is where the physical artifacts are kept, along with their oldest texts.
There’s an odd chill to the room, and I think I’m certain Sheriff isn’t here, so as I explore the building, I’m not exactly disappointed. My brother and I have always been close, so I feel like I would have known if he were here. I’m searching through glass cases, and with each weapon I pass, I grow more and more frustrated. Fucking shit. Of course, this couldn't have been easy. I frown. I figured they would have had it on display because despite it being a murder weapon, the knife itself has historical value. Apparently, it’s always been within the Senators’ family and comes directly from his family who immigrated from Europe. What if they didn’t put in on display though?
My eyes trace the room until I find what I’m looking for, a small door between two shelves that blends perfectly with the wall. I pause as voices carry from below, thick accents from the security guards light and happy. Thank fucking God for old buildings and the lack of security cameras. I pass both boys and move towards the small dark door, looking around it for any trigger sensors. There are none.
The door opens easily.
I walk forward and the entire room seems to chill me to my very core. You know when you can tell someone or something horrible has come through a space? I swallow hard and search the table as well as different examining tables. The dagger isn’t here.
How do I know this?
Because what is here is by far fucking worst. I hear two men talking quietly in the doorway as I approach the table. I swallow and feel bile rise up in my throat. He has been here. The bastard has been right here.
On the old door table is a picture, well multiple pictures, all women with red hair. Obviously, very fucking dead. All of them are different in their own way, but what stays the same is that they all have on the same dress, like a 1950s housewife. All with the same shoes, and even their lipstick is the same bright red shade. The most grostique similarity? The blood soaked dead center of their chest where they’ve been cut open like meat in a butcher shop. The cut’s precise, and oddly enough, the rest of them haven’t been touched, but I could clearly see the blossoming of bruises on their body, and I know from the information we gathered, the bastard likes to put them through a fucking nightmare, toying with them, and beating them before this. I pick up the photos and flip them as my eyes flutter slightly over the scribbled word on the corner of the photo. I feel the panic well up in my chest at the familiar name.
Robyn
It’s scrawled across three of the collage of pictures laid flat. I grip the table as I swallow my panic. I have to focus on my brother. My brother who’s possibly in the hands of a serial killer that wants his fucking dagger back. A serial killer who may have possibly kidnapped my brother because of his connection to me. This is so fucked.
“Sweetheart?” Archie’s in my ear.
Without responding, I snap a few photos of the ones without my name printed on them and send them, hearing him mutter a curse through the ear piece. I feel Richard against my back before he says anything. A low growl rips through his chest as the photos are torn from my hands. I shake my head and break from the two of them now crowding my space.
“We need to go,” I whisper as John pockets the pictures, and the three of us make our way quietly back to the window. As the two of them easily remove themselves, I put one leg over the side before a small sound catches my attention. I look over to the other side of the room from my place in the shadows.
A team of about five men dressed all in black, walks through the area as quietly as we had, spanning the room, and I mutter a curse as they go straight to the same fucking room we just left. I begin climbing down, refusing to speak until we’re in the shadows and fog. Then I speak so all three of them can hear me.
“We’re not the only ones looking,” I mumble.
“What?” Archie snaps in my ear.
I nod as we near the SUV and I look back, noticing the figure in the stone window looking at us. I promise you, we were hidden, yet somehow they could see us. They don’t react, just watch as we get into the SUV.
“We need to get to the second location. Now,” I demand.
I close my eyes trying to not think about those damn pictures. This is why no one goes to fucking England in the winter.
Chapter Thirteen
Richard
Not much scares me. I learned a long time ago to have tough skin and to not let anyone in. I grew up in an unloving home. My father kept my mother around long enough to produce two sons. His heir and a spare, just in case anything were to happen to the first. Once done, he got rid of my mother faster than she could say alimony. As the spare, I was mostly ignored. Always treated as if I were on standby. I never felt love or can even tell you what the meaning of the word is.
As a result, I’ve always kept people at arms length, even my own damn family. Everyone in the world I grew up in is only looking for the next person to leech on to use to make their way up the mountain of high society, and my family is on the very tippy top. No one is genuine. They always fucking want something, but not Red. She’s always been different. She burst onto the scene like an uncontrollable wildfire, and I have been caught up in her smoke ever since. I have never met anyone like her. The purity she alludes is fucking breathtaking, and I knew without a doubt, she would be mine. I’ve been making sure of it. I might not know what love feels like but I sure as hell know what it feels like to want something. To feel certain that it’s meant to be yours and do whatever possible to make that happen. That’s what Red is. Mine.
Like a wolf stalking its prey, I took my time. I’ve been patient and resourceful. I stalked her like the psycho I am as I feed my obsession of everything that is her. I know it’s probably unhealthy. Do I give a fuck? Absolutely not. I’ve known all about her being Red Robin way before she thought I did. I’m the one who set us up so we ran into each other on the same job. I wanted her to know I knew. It’s all been part of my plan to catch her. I wanted her cornered so she had nowhere else to run but into my arms. Granted, I didn’t factor in John or Archie. They are complications I really don’t give a fuck about. They won’t keep me from my prize, so they can stay as long as they know I’m the top dog in this unconditional relationship. I can’t fully express to you how it feels to finally have something you’ve wanted most of your life. Even when we were younger, Red stood out to me, and as time has gone by, it’s only gotten worse, my feelings growing more intense.
I never thought I was the settling down type. My father told me, at the age of ten, I was to pick a suitable bride to continue our family line or he would choose one for me. I’ve always rebelled. Did everything I could to put off the inevitable, until my eyes landed on Red at one of my father’s garden parties. Even before I spoke to her, I told my father my choice, and he drew up the paperwork that very day. She may hate her life being controlled, but with this, I will not waver or back down, the next step to our forever. Mark my words when I say, Red will be my wife. The ring I gifted her wasn’t just destined for her to have, but it also serves another purpose. It’s a family heirloom, dating back to the 16th Century where King Richard II gifted it to his betrothed. A fiery redhead from the Hood line. We were meant to be. This is fucking destiny, so if some psycho serial killer thinks he’ll take her away from me, he has another thing
coming. He hasn’t begun to know crazy until he meets me. I live and breathe the insane. I’m the fucking psycho that brings shivers to my Red’s heart. I own her. She’s mine. I licked that sweet cunt, she belongs to me.
“Are we going to pretend we didn’t find those pictures?” I ask, breaking the silence. Ever since we got back to the car no one has said a word. Not even Archie, who I know is dying to know what happened.
“We’re not ignoring it, we’re just processing,” Red replies haughty. The purse of her lips has me wanting to pull her on top of me so I can devour them.
“Bullshit, but I’ll let you think that if it helps, Red,” I drawl smoothly. She doesn’t fool me. I know Red better than I know myself. She’s scared shitless, and trying to single handedly figure out what to do. She won’t ask for help, but I’m not going to wait for permission.
“What about the pictures?” Archie finally asks.
“That shithead Senator. There’s pictures of his victims and all the fucked up shit he’s done to them. Printed on three of the pictures is Robyn’s name,” I answer before she could downplay what we found.
“Fuck,” Archie curses, before he growls, "Robyn." Archie is a partner at the same firm as Sheriff and they’re currently working together on the serial killer case, so I know he knows all about Senator Reynolds’ handiwork. He’s read all the behind the scenes details the public are not allowed to hear.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” she huffs, throwing her arms up in the air. “How do we even know I’m the Robyn he wants? It’s not like a last name was printed.”
“Really, Red? What do you take us for? You’re literally textbook his type. A beautiful redhead woman within the same exact age range. It’s your brother who’s missing, which I’m willing to bet has more to do with drawing you out than the dagger itself. You are too high profile to just snatch,” I tell her, listing the facts. I’m not going to let her bullshit the importance of this. If she doesn’t take this seriously, she’s as good as gone. I won’t risk that because I’m not sure what the fuck I’d do if someone took her away. That's a lie. I’ll tear this world apart until she’s safe in my arms, and then I’ll tie her naked to my bed until I feel better.
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