“I’m sorry,” she said, finally breaking in the arms of her father’s friend. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Sweetie.” His voice was low and throaty, but vibrated with so much loving attention, it was impossible to ignore. This guy had been there in the beginning. “You should have come to us sooner. You know what Frank always said: Two heads are better than one, but three heads-”
“-Equal success,” she finished.
Fuck. Three heads equal success. There was no longer three of us. I tried to swallow away the foreboding feeling that we were going to fail again.
“Babe?”
When I looked down from the ceiling where I’d been praying to my brother, I saw Harley staring at me. So was the big guy.
“This is my uncle, Clarke.” She smiled softly. “Clarke, this is Carter. He’s the love of my life and you will be nice to him.”
“Carter, huh?”
I froze, conscious of every breath, every beat of my heart, every ounce of blood roaring in my veins. He knew. I knew he knew.
“Yes, sir.” I nodded in respect and extended my hand to him.
“I’m sorry about your brother,” he said when he took it and nodded in condolence. “Anyway…”
He clapped, making me jump, and I reached for Harley. She stepped into my arms willingly—something I didn’t think I’d have ever gotten from her—and reached up to kiss my neck. My pulse spiked, the adrenaline took the invitation to join us, and when Michael was dragged in through the front door of my apartment, retribution and revenge delivered itself to us.
Thirty-Three
The second I saw him, I felt sick. When two of Clarke’s men dragged Michael in by his elbows, I turned and threw up into one of the potted plants by the bi-fold doors. No one batted an eyelid at the woman being sick in the living room, but I felt Rome’s answering wince. Like he and Jobe had been in sync, feeling everything the other one felt, Rome and I now experienced that same connection. We’d been through so much together, lost so much whilst standing side by side, that it was impossible to not know how the other one felt.
“Always were weak, Harley Queen,” Michael spat, laughing at me as I righted myself. “At least you realised I’m smarter than you and called in the cavalry.”
Before I could answer, Rome thrust his fist into my ex-boyfriend’s face, cracking his nose. Michael’s head lolled sideways, but Clarke’s man held it upright.
“Why me?” I asked, taking a step towards him. “Why Jobe? Why Evan? Why any of us? You had what you wanted from me, but you still kept playing, convinced you’d win?” Another step forward. “Does it feel like you’ve won, Mikey? Do you see that you’ve made me stronger, that I’ll survive and watch you die?”
“It was just too much to resist,” he croaked with a smile, spitting out the blood that poured from his nose to his mouth. “You always thought you’d win. I just wanted to push until you realised you couldn’t. Have you won? Really?”
“Yes, I’ve won. We’ve beat you.”
“Perhaps.” He grinned. Rome hit him again, splitting his lip and sending his head so far back that his neck cracked. When he’d righted himself, Michael laughed, and continued. “You don’t think Jamie and I planned this?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Firstly, we gave you the ability to take two cocks at once. Your boyfriend can thank us for that.” Rome growled, but he was as intrigued as I was. He was in control—for now.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” Clarke said, his voice as cool as ice, calm as possible, and yet he was deadly. More dangerous than all of us.
“Secondly, Jamie and I ordered your hit, knowing Carter here would be the man to take you out.”
My legs threatened to give way and I glanced at Rome. He refused to make eye contact, snarling at Michael. He took a step towards him, raising his fist to strike him again, but I grabbed his wrist. Rome might not have wanted to hear what Michael had to say, but I did.
“Oh, you didn’t tell her that part?” Michael asked, antagonising Rome. “Harley, darling. Meet the man I hired to kill you. He was instructed to come to your gallery and snuff out your flame, but I knew he wouldn’t do it. He’s never actually taken a woman’s life. Pussy.” He laughed.
“You…” I choked, fighting back the tears. “You were going to kill me?”
“No.” Rome shrugged, still refusing to look at me. “I wasn’t going to kill you. The second you became more than a name, I ended the job and sent the money back.”
“Eh, swings and roundabouts. Should I go on?” Michael asked. I nodded. “You see, we figured he’d fall for you. He isn’t as strong as he makes out—Charlotte, Grant’s sister, she made sure of that before he’d even become part of the plan.”
I stroked my stomach, realising I was giving away too much when the nausea threatened to break me again. Saliva filled my mouth and bile burned the back of my throat. Charlotte. The woman who had broken my men, given them the final push into existing as one, had become part of Michael’s game.
“What’s your point?” I asked, feeling a breeze sweep over me that reminded me of Jobe.
Rome finally looked at me, and he’d felt it too. I nodded, telling him I wouldn’t hold his job to kill me against him. I’d known he was dangerous when I met him, and that hadn’t changed.
“My point is, he fell in love with you. You fell in love with him. I win.”
“How?” I stopped Rome hitting him again. His control was wavering and I feared he’d snap before I got my answers. “How does me being happy mean you win?”
“Today, you’ll move on. You’ll kill me and take a victory, you’ll heal and you’ll live your fucking happy ever after. But he’ll die. He has made so many enemies, stolen from so many men, and scorned many women and children. One day, he’ll be taken from you and all of my hard work will be revealed. Old wounds will be torn open. The festering hole I’ve left in your soul will eat you alive…and you’ll be done. And by that point, you’ll have no Carter to keep you safe from yourself.”
“You’re lying,” I said, clenching my fists to keep the feeling in my fingers.
Then I stepped away from him. Clarke looked on, wondering if I was crazy—if I was going to break. The two men holding Michael on his knees looked at me. The two men guarding Alec at the door looked at me.
Rome looked at me.
Only the look in his dazzling eyes told me he believed Michael. I wouldn’t allow Rome to be taken from me. From us. I would spend the rest of my life readying to lay my existence down to save him and our baby.
“So you see, I win because I gave you love. And love is the only weapon that can truly ruin us.” He took a deep breath and mimicked the sound of an explosion, making me double over and cry in realisation when the grief I felt at Jobe’s loss stabbed through me. Michael was right.
“No.”
I looked up at Rome and saw him standing in front of Michael, his stance dominating and confident. He had become Carter, channelling a little bit of Jobe’s crazy in order to hurt Michael.
“See, you’re wrong. Am I going to spout you with romantic bullshit and grant you more breaths while you listen to exactly why you’re wrong? No.” He cleared his throat. I watched on with a racing heart. “But I’ll tell you this…you underestimated me. I’ve made all the preparations to keep Harley, and our baby, safe. All you’ve really done is give two people the happiness they deserve. And while one of us will die first, it’s true, we’ve got plenty of years and heads of grey hair ahead of us. And we’ll grow that hair, we’ll fuck every night, we’ll laugh, we’ll cry and we’ll find the happiness you don’t deserve, all while you rot in the ground and keep the circle of life going. You lose, mate. You lost the minute you let Harley go.”
God, I loved him. I loved him so fucking much. Sure, we didn’t have forever. We knew that…but we had now, and we had tomorrow and the next day, and as many days as we were granted while Rome and Jobe’s precautions kept us safe.
> “Babe,” Rome called, nodding for me to join him. When I stopped next to him, he reached into his pocket and handed me a small knife. “Cut your name in his skin.”
“W-what?”
“Brand him. Make sure the fucking underworld knows his death belongs to you.”
My breath became sharp and short, the lack of oxygen making my head fuzz and my vision blur. But I took the knife. I took it, remembering seeing it in Rome’s kitchen, and glanced down at it in my palm. Closing my fist around the handle, I looked at Rome.
“Clarke, would you please ask your man to hand me his gun?” I gasped. This was really happening. “I’m also going to need my laptop.”
Silence greeted him, including from me. I just stared between the knife and the love of my life, wondering if I could do this. I had promised my dead family revenge. I had promised to avenge Evan’s death, and I had a duty to punish the man who had stolen my baby’s biological father from me. I could do this. I would do this. As soon as Rome had what he’d asked for.
“Don’t just stand there,” Clarke said, clapping his hands and licking his lips in excitement. He turned to Rome. “Can we trust your doorman?” Rome nodded without hesitation. Clarke gestured to the men either side of Alec and they stepped away. “Get Carter what he asked for!”
They scurried off, looking at me for direction when it came to the laptop and I directed them to his office. When they returned, Rome set up, opening up his laptop on the counter, pointing to a spot on the floor and instructing Clarke’s men where to place Michael. They dragged him, kicking, screaming and bleeding, to the rug in the middle of the room. I stopped at the edge, remembering when I’d scrunched my toes on it not so long ago, when Jobe took me to the apartment and asked me to beg.
“Ready, babe?” Rome asked.
I nodded. I had no idea what he was going to do, but I knew what he expected me to do and I trusted him.
Thirty-Four
The first of Michael’s screams echoed around the apartment and pierced my ears as I knelt on the ground at the coffee table and opened my laptop. I smiled, glancing over my shoulder at Harley as she crouched in front of Michael and, after seeking affirmation from her uncle, cut the first line of the H into his chest. He shook, blood oozing out of the cut and dripping to the waistband of his jeans. He kicked his legs out, trying to swipe at her, but Clarke’s men did their job and jumped in to hold him down. She would do this. She would hesitate and that would only hurt Michael more, but she’d sworn to do it, and I refused to take over and let her suffer the regret when we couldn’t undo the damage and try again.
Instead I logged in and did my thing to the soundtrack of Michael McKenzie’s agony. I smiled when I hit the jackpot, hacking into Charlotte’s webcam as she stepped into her bedroom and tossed her handbag onto the bed. When I whistled, she jumped and stared at the screen. Her eyes connected with the camera and I smiled, waving at her as another wail pierced the air.
“Hey…” she said, taking a step closer and narrowing her eyes on me. “Jobe?”
I growled when I heard her say his name. Stupid bitch. She’d never been able to tell the difference, relying on us to hint at which twin she was fucking when she’d been playing us.
“No.”
“God, I’m sorry, Rome. How did you-”
“I’ll give you the money you need,” I said cutting her off.
Michael screamed again, his voice breaking as the decibels of his cry threatened to smash the glass. Charlotte craned her neck to see what was going on, like watching from a different angle would give her a view of the room.
“What’s going on?”
“Do you want to get high?”
“What are you talking about?”
It all made sense. Charlotte had dabbled in cocaine when we were together and I’d been able to brush it off as the recreational drug everyone was doing. Her being hooked on it went a long way to explaining why she was still as crazy as they came and in such huge debt. She and Gareth had always done it together and the debt was more than his. She didn’t want to have to pay it off, so she’d landed on my doorstep in the hopes I’d pay her dealers off and fund her fucking habit. No such luck.
That, and we couldn’t afford to leave loose ends. Charlotte was not only a liability, but she was also part to blame for Jobe’s death, because once upon a time she had undone all my hard work. He’d loved her more than I did. It all went back to drugs.
“Don’t bullshit me, babe,” I said, licking my lips like she’d always liked. “Come on, get high with me.”
“So you want us to do some coke together and then you’ll settle my debt? Just like that?”
I shrugged. She wouldn’t resist. “Just like that.”
She did think about it, buying me enough time to look over my shoulder and watch Harley. She was covered in blood, seeping from each of the three letters of her name branded into Michael’s flesh, but finally she was confident. She finally understood why she needed to see her name marked on him before we killed him. I was proud of my girl. My crazy little killer. I was proud of everything she’d become when it would have been much easier to become Charlotte.
“I paid you a little visit earlier,” I said when she said nothing in response to my challenge. “Check in your top drawer. The one where you keep your dildo.”
She blushed and looked around the room, her gaze falling on the drawer Jace had planted my gift in earlier.
“You’ve been here?”
“I’ve been there. Guess I can’t resist you. Come on, babe, I’ve got customers waiting.”
“Forty thousand?” she asked, standing from the chair and crossing the room.
Michael had stopped screaming now. His body had gone into shock and his mind had shut down to block the pain out.
“Keep going, babe,” I said to Harley, before turning to Clarke. “I’m going to need some ice water.”
“You got it. You sure this is going to work?”
Clarke knew what I was doing. He was, after all, the best, and I figured it extended further than hacking email accounts.
“Cocaine and money, baby?” Charlotte caught my attention and I turned to see her at her desk, flapping a wad of cash in one hand and a little bag of cocaine in the other.
“It’s good stuff.” I began lining up my imaginary cocaine, rolling up a twenty where she could see it, and ducking lower. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
She frowned when she looked past me, paling when she saw the organised chaos happening on the rug in my living room.
I snorted my imaginary line. Charlotte followed.
I snorted my second imaginary line. Charlotte dipped below the webcam and the sound of her sniffing filtered through the speakers.
I snorted my third imaginary line. Charlotte groaned and followed suit.
“Had enough?” I asked, pausing above imaginary line number five.
“Have you?”
“I could do this in my sleep, babe. I just want to make sure you can keep up. I want you high as a fucking kite and then I want you to get in a taxi, naked, and make your way here so I can fuck you ‘til you pass out.”
“Oh, I can do that,” she said, snorting line number five.
“Rome…”
Harley was behind me, and placed a bloody hand on my shoulder, the knife dangling over my chest.
“Done?”
“It’s done. He’s not dead, though.”
“Superficial cuts. They won’t kill him.” I kissed her hand and flicked the knife out of her grasp, onto the rug. “Give me two minutes.” I turned back to Charlotte. “You’ve got enough for two more lines there. Finish them off and get your tight little ass here so I can fuck it into next week. You’ve got half hour, babe, or the deal is off.”
I snapped the laptop shut and turned to Harley, inspecting her carefully and holding her at arm’s length. Clarke watched over us, something in the way he stared at me telling me he didn’t completely trust me, but he had asked his men t
o follow my commands. Buckets of iced water sat lined up on the kitchen counter.
“Are you okay?” I asked, cupping her face and cleaning her cheek from a smudge of blood.
“Yes. That was…”
“Just like riding a high.”
“Yes.”
“I knew you’d like it. You can’t become addicted to killing people, I’m kinda tired of running, but you can remember this high forever. You’ll never crave cocaine again after that.”
“Clever move,” Clarke said, slapping his hand on my shoulder. “Harley, we’ve got somewhere we need to be. Carter, do you have a cleaner?”
“I have a cleaner. We’re good.”
“Clarke-” Harley moved to embrace her uncle, but he shook his head and halted her. “Evidence. Sorry.”
“We’ll make sure all tracks are covered. Carter, keep her safe, keep in touch with me, and for the love of God, don’t screw up the cover-up.”
“I’ve got this.”
Of course I did. I would not let one single thing happen to my girl. I wouldn’t let Michael come back to haunt us. But he wasn’t dead…yet.
Clarke and his men left, as did Alec, who had seen shit much worse than a little live-carving, until it was just Harley, Michael and me in the apartment. Michael had passed out. The wheezy breaths as blood dripped from his face to his chest to mix with those wounds and flow over to his waist were the only sign that he was alive.
“Come with me,” I said, taking Harley’s hand and leading her out onto the balcony.
Thirty-Five
It was cold outside, the chilly breeze swirling around us in-time with the bass from the club below us. Rome led me to the railing and stood behind me with his chin on my shoulder.
“My mother died eventually,” he said. “I guess she couldn’t take the high anymore and when her veins were shot to shit, her mind nothing but weeds that had probably once bloomed in something, she killed herself. She’d been chasing the high forever and in the end, no amount of drugs was enough to bring euphoria. So she ended it.”
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