by Lucy Smoke
I don't even think about it. I just punch him and shove him into a wall,
leaving him laughing and curling into his stomach as he wheezes while I head
for what looks like a back hallway.
"Fucking perv," I mutter, shaking my head.
Where the hell is the exit? Abel’s footsteps sound against the smooth
floor behind me as he follows, still laughing even as he fishes his phone out
of his pocket and begins dialing the others.
We move further and further from the party, the sounds of people fucking
and talking growing dimmer. Despite that, the music still lingers everywhere
—whatever internal speaker system Luc has got in this place is really
something.
"I think this is a back way to another elevator," Abel says as he catches up
to me with his phone pressed to his ear.
"Another elevator?" I gape at him. How many fucking elevators did you
need for one damn apartment?
He nods. "Yeah, if this is similar to some of our hotels, then there should
be a second one right through—Dean?" Abel cuts himself off as he points
through an open doorway.
With no one lingering around, I figure he's probably right, but just as I
step out and turn to the left away from the dead end I spot a figure I never
expected to see.
"—we're heading to the second elevator right now." Abel's voice reaches
my ears, but even though it's right next to me, it sounds like it's coming at me
over a great distance.
She's changed her hair. She's changed a lot of things, actually. I don't
know what it is that makes me recognize her when she's got glasses on, a
purse at her side and her back towards me. I freeze, waiting for her to turn
back to look at me. Maybe I'm wrong.
"—have him, then get him to—" Abel's voice fades completely. I know
he's still talking, but instead of from a distance, I now no longer hear him at
all. Because she finally turns the fuck around and I realize my instincts are
never fucking wrong. Her eyes widen in first recognition and then panic. She
slams her hand down on the elevator button and the doors start to open.
It's her, I think, and she's trying to escape.
"Corina," I say, and a split second later, I'm ripping myself away from
Abel's side and dashing down the short hallway.
The doors are all the way open. She's inside, panting as she slaps what I
can only assume is the 'close doors' button. My legs pound against the floor
and just before they close, I barrel through, slamming into the opposite wall
and bouncing back.
"Avalon!" Abel's yell pierces my ears, my hearing returning a mere
moment before the doors close behind us and we're together again. Corina
and I. Just the two of us, and oh, the look of utter shock and horror on her
face is well worth it.
34
DEAN
AVALON'S WORDS ARE SPRINGING THROUGH MY MIND AS I SEARCH THE DAMN
penthouse party. Braxton and I split up and scour the rooms. We find people
fucking in closets. People shooting up in bathrooms. People puking in sinks.
We find and see it all, including some familiar faces.
I ignore those faces and focus on the task at hand, but all the while
Avalon is circling in my head. I can't get her out, but what's worse, I don't
want to get her out. She truly thinks that the people who've hurt her have
turned her into a monster? No. It's not that. She's always been strong. As
Abel said to me right before we'd taken her to that warehouse and watched
her exact her vengeance on the woman who had made her life a living hell for
the entirety of her childhood, I am grateful for that strength. Because, without
it, she might not have been strong enough to find us, to find me.
Patricia, though, that bitch I wish I could've gotten my hands on. I'd taken
a step back. I'd let Avalon take the lead because she needed it. Because she
fucking deserved it. But I well and truly hated that piece of shit cunt. She
wasn't a mother. She was scum. And now she was less than that, now she was
a corpse rotting and burned to a crisp somewhere far away. No gravestone.
No marking. Nothing to even record where her bones were. She didn't need
it. As far as I was concerned, the world should just forget a monster like that
ever existed.
Avalon thought herself a monster? Maybe. But there were worse
monsters out there.
"Dean," Braxton calls my name, drawing me back to the present as he
nods toward an open doorway. I move up to one side while he remains on the
other and lean inward to see who's inside.
A curse spills out of my lips and before he can stop me, I shoot through
the door, shoving it wide open. Luc jumps up from where he's sitting against
the wall, a cell phone in his hand. A girl on the bed gasps and rips the sheets
up from the edge of the bed to cover herself, her eyes wide.
I barely give her a glance. "Get the fuck out," I command as Luc slowly
gets up.
She looks at him. Does she expect him to stick up for her? No. This
motherfucker isn't the type, and I can guarantee that she’s nothing to him.
Any man as relaxed as he is when his girl is naked in a room with other guys
present, doesn’t give a shit about her. "Brax," I growl. He wastes no time.
Brax strides across the room and grabs the girl by her arm, dragging her from
the bed, sheets and all as she keeps them clutched to her chest. She starts to
scream when he leans down and says something quietly in her ear. I don't
know what he says and I don't give a shit; all I know is that her face goes pale
and she shuts the fuck up before scurrying out of the room.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Luc says as I close the door behind
me and flip the lock. We've been here too many times for this to go any other
way. God, I can't wait to pound my fist into his face.
"Why the fuck haven't you been answering my messages," I grit out as I
take a step across the room.
One thing I can say about Kincaid, he doesn't flinch at the hostility in my
expression. Any other man would, but not him. He lifts his chin and glares
right back at me.
"You haven't answered my question, Dean," he says then flicks a look to
the door. "You shouldn't be here, especially not tonight."
"Why?" I ask sarcastically. "Afraid we'll ruin your good time?"
Luc's lips curl down in irritation as his brows furrow. "No, dumbass,
because I have plans that concern us both tonight."
He opens his mouth, but before he can take a step forward, I'm on him. I
grab him by the front of his shirt and shove him until his back meets the wall.
I can feel the blood pulsing through my veins. "Enough with your fucking
games," I growl. "Answer my fucking question, Kincaid. Why the fuck
haven't you been answering my calls or messages?"
"I've been busy," Luc snaps. "You think it's fucking easy tracking down
someone who doesn't want to be found?"
"Yeah, you look real fucking busy man," Brax says casually as he steps
up behind me. I hear him move, feel him shift and then a knife—much
thicker than the one I'd given Avalon—appears around my side. Luc freezes
as Brax leans over m
y shoulder, pressing it into his throat. "Pretty girl you
had there. Was she who you were busy with?"
"If you're asking if I fucked her, the answer is yes," Luc says, his voice
gone cold. "I was about to leave, though—"
"Doesn't matter if you were about to meet the Queen of fucking England,
Kincaid," I say, cutting him off. "I'm tired of getting the runaround from
you."
"You're not getting the runaround, fucker—" He hisses when Braxton
pushes the edge of the knife further against his throat. "She's supposed to be
coming tonight!" he snaps.
"She?" He can't mean who I think he means. I back up. "Braxton." When
Brax doesn't immediately withdraw his blade, I call his name again, firmly.
" Brax," I snap.
Braxton growls but pulls back and his knife folds up and disappears back
into his pocket. I turn to Luc. "Corina is supposed to be here?" I clarify.
"Tonight."
"Yes!" He rubs his throat with his free hand, his fingers coming away wet
with a little blood. He glares at Braxton before returning his attention to me.
"She just messaged me and said she’s here. You need to go. You can't let her
see you."
My phone rings. It's Abel. Fuck, I can't ignore it. Especially not now.
"Abel—" I say, pressing the phone to my ear.
"Hey man, we're heading to the second elevator right now," he says,
sounding amused.
"Abel, I need you to listen to me—"
"Do you have the douche canoe yet?" he asks, cutting me off. "If you
have him, then get him to—"
"Abel," I snap. "I need you to keep an eye on Avalon. Corina's here. In
the building." I look at Kincaid. "How long ago did she text you?" I ask.
"Less than five minutes," he admits. "She said the party was too crowded.
She was going back down to the lobby and I was about to go meet her. I told
her to take the back exit so no one would see her. Dean—she thinks I'm on
her side in this. You four need to go—if Avalon's here, she definitely needs
to stay the fuck away. Get her out."
"Shit," I hiss, turning away. We can't let Corina get to the lobby. We can't
let her get out. We also can't let Avalon get to her before we can get the two
of them to a different location.
Abel's still talking on the phone when I lift it back to my ear. "I need you
to—" I begin only to be interrupted when he yells for Avalon.
Luc's words hit my brain. Back exit. Abel had said they were nearing the
second elevator. I'm out the fucking door before I even realize my feet are
moving. The Kincaid penthouse is much like the ones I've grown up in all my
life. The stomping of feet echoes behind me as I shove people out of my path.
The further back I go, the fewer people there are, and I'm thankful that they
all seem to be drunk enough that they don't give a shit to follow.
"Fuck! Shit! Motherfucker!" I come careening around a corner to see
Abel standing in front of an elevator, cursing up a storm. The one thing that
makes my blood go cold, however, is the fact that he's standing there. Alone.
"Where is she?" I demand, rushing forward.
Abel whirls around and when he recognizes me, his face goes pale. "She
was right next to me," he says quickly. "She seemed fucking fine one second
and then she just took off after this chick. They got in the elevator. Who the
fuck—"
"It was Corina," Luc says behind me. He sounds out of breath and grunts
as he growls out a curse. "We've got to get to the lobby before them."
"How the fuck are we going to do that?" Abel demands.
I look up to the numbers board over the elevator and realize that the light
over floor 9 is lit up red. "She stopped the fucking elevator," I say, stunned.
Oh, my sick, twisted little baby. I can only imagine what Avalon is doing to
Corina right now in that elevator. I bet the second she'd seen the bitch, she'd
lost her control.
"Call the fucking local PD," I order. "Find whoever we've got on payroll.
Then call Rylie. Take the other elevator." I turn to Luc and grab him by the
collar. "You and me are taking the fucking stairs."
If there's not a body to contend with by the time we get to the lobby, I'll
be shocked.
35
AVALON
FOR SEVERAL LONG SECONDS, THE TWO OF US STAND THERE STARING AT EACH
other. The elevator starts to move. I reach out and slam my hand against the
emergency brake button on the panel. The lights go out and the emergency
lights flare to life.
"You're not getting away this time, Corina," I say.
Slowly, she slips the purse dangling on her shoulder down until the bag
hits the ground and the strap remains clutched in her fist. "Who says I'm
trying to get away?" she counters.
It's a bluff. I know that much. She wouldn't have run the second she saw
me if she wasn't trying to get away. I take a step closer and she stiffens. "Are
you scared of me, Corina?" I ask, tilting my head to the side. My heart races
in my ears. The volatile angry monster inside me is twisted and curving
throughout my body, sensing prey. "You seem scared."
"I'm not," she snaps back. Her knuckles are white, though, as she hangs
onto her purse strap.
In the dark interior of the elevator, my whole world is focused down to
one pinpoint. Her. I take another step closer and she backs up, bumping into
the wall.
“Then why did you run?” I prompt.
To that, she doesn’t appear to have an answer. I watch as a tiny bead of
sweat rolls down her temple. In the weeks since she’s gone missing, she’s
changed her looks. Her once blonde and brunette hair has grown out a bit and
it’s obvious she’s dyed it to look darker. That isn’t the only change either.
Her nose is now pierced and her skin is tanner—as if she’s been sitting on a
beach somewhere while I was in the hospital recovering from the torture Ace
inflicted upon me.
Her flat lips are encased in some shiny pink gloss and her eyelids are
darkened to appear bigger and at the same time, sunken into her face. The
make-up is heavy. No doubt because even coming here was a dangerous
mission for her. She knew I’d be looking for her so I can only assume she
made these changes as a way to hide her identity. None of it works.
I see through it now. I see her for what she is. A trembling, scared little
girl who thought she could take on someone like me. Her mistake.
“Why are you here?” she demands, lifting her chin despite her fear. “You
weren’t supposed to be here. Only Luc—”
“He told you to come here?” I interrupt. I suppose this means he was
working on the problem.
“You were supposed to be back at Eastpoint.” She eyes me cautiously,
warily.
I shrug. “I guess we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
Her eyes dart back and forth, the dim emergency lights throwing fucked
up shadows across her features. As if she’s sensing my impending explosion
—I can feel it, myself, the violence that writhes just under my skin, begging
to be set free—she starts talking. “I heard that your mother went missing a
few days ago,” she blurts. “
Wondered if you had anything to do with it or
maybe she finally got away…”
She’s stalling. “Don’t worry about my mother, Cor,” I tell her lightly.
“You’ll be joining her soon.”
Corina pauses and looks at me, really fucking looks at me. She turns her
body towards me when before it had been angled slightly away as if she was
planning to protect herself. There’s no protection against me, now, though.
There is no getting free.
“So, you did kill her,” she says. It’s not a question, but I answer it as if it
is.
“Yes.”
Her lips part. “To kill your own mother…” Her words come out as a
whisper. “You really are a fucking monster.”
A snort escapes me. “That’s what you have to say?” I stare at her as a
smile begins to form on my face. It’s too fucking funny. “Yes, I’m a monster.
I never lied about that. I’ve never fucking hidden what I am. Can you say the
same?”
"You can't kill me here," she says, instead of answering my question.
"There are cameras."
I laugh, the sound loud in the small dark space. "Do you think I give a
shit if I get caught?" I ask her, shaking my head. "No, Corina. You're going to
fucking pay for all the shit you put me through, but most of all you're going
to pay for starting this game."
"I didn't start the game," she replies, turning her eyes away.
I close my eyes and twist my head back and forth. "Don't," I warn her.
"Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not is your business, but when
you're standing in front of me, you tell the truth. You've lied enough." My
hand snaps out and slams into her throat. I grip it and squeeze along either
side. "You had no fucking clue that you would lose, did you? Did you think I
would go down so fucking easy? And then when I didn't, did you really
expect to just run off and disappear?"
Corina rears back as far as she can in the limited space of the elevator and
chucks her purse at my head. I duck and it sails over me, smacking into the
doors and hitting the floor as I slam into her. With a shriek, Corina reaches up
and sinks her nails into my forearm. My breath squeezes in and out of my
own chest, as if I'm the one struggling to breathe. "I didn't trust you from the
