SINS of the Rex Book 3

by Emma Slate

  “Me for her,” I repeated, looking at Flynn whose blue eyes had darkened with rage. He nodded imperceptibly. “Put her on the phone.”

  “I had a feeling you wouldn’t believe me,” Andrew said.

  I heard shuffling and a moment later, a bone-melting scream. Protective anger surged through me, but I forced myself to remain calm, even after I heard Katherine’s whimper of my name.

  “Where are you?” I asked coldly.

  “You know where I am. And I think it goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway. Come alone or I’ll kill the girl and make you watch.” He hung up, and I set the cell aside before I decided to throw it against a wall of the club.

  I was almost 100% sure that Andrew had killed Lila, his pregnant girlfriend. Which meant he’d killed his own child. I couldn’t let Katherine take the brunt of Andrew’s anger. Who knew what the madman would do to someone I cared about. He was capable of anything.

  After an hour meeting with Duncan and Brad, we had a vague outline of a plan. It wasn’t solid and things could go wrong. But we didn’t have time to form anything better. None of us knew what we were walking into. Duncan was still recovering from his broken ribs, but we needed him. Like a true Scottish warrior, he assured me he could do this.

  Flynn didn’t want me to go even though he knew I had to. Andrew wouldn’t deal with anyone else. He wouldn’t accept anyone else and I wasn’t going to let Katherine die.

  We piled into a black SUV with Brad behind the wheel. The drive was silent and tense; there was nothing to say. Flynn and I sat in the farthest back seat. I leaned into him, his arm around me, his lips in my hair.

  My childhood home was three hours outside of the city. It was late afternoon by the time we made it upstate. The temperature had dropped, and the roads were slick. Brad turned the car down a forested road and parked.

  “Be careful,” I said to him and Duncan.

  “Aye, lass,” Duncan said. “You as well.”

  The two men climbed out of the car and I watched them find their way to the tree line while they waited for Flynn. It had begun to snow on our drive up and it made them look like blurry black dots. We only had a few more hours of daylight.

  “Be careful,” Flynn said.

  “I will.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  I would’ve laughed, but it wasn’t funny. Maybe I was reckless, maybe I was stupid, maybe I was willing to do anything for family.

  Katherine was innocent. Could I really live with myself if I let her suffer at my brother’s hands?

  Life was a series of choices and there was nothing black and white about any of it.

  I turned to face him. “Promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  “Do not put yourself in jeopardy. Let Duncan and Brad handle it. I couldn’t bare it if you… just please. No risks.”

  “I want the same promise from you,” he commanded. “Don’t trust anything Andrew says. Watch his body. The body always gives away a tell.”

  I nodded. “You better go.”

  Flynn grabbed me by the collar of my coat and hauled me to him. His lips covered mine, desperate and needy. My hands went to his face as I tore my mouth from his.

  “Stop it,” I commanded, breathless. “This isn’t the end for us.”

  “I know.”

  “Then kiss me like you’ll see me later for dinner.”

  A small smile broke out on his face. He leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips. “See you soon, love.”

  He got out of the car and a few minutes later he joined Duncan and Brad. They melted into the wilderness, and I sent up a prayer, a thought, a hope, that they’d get through this unscathed.

  I didn’t include myself in that. Though I’d told Flynn I’d be careful, and I would, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t do everything possible to get Katherine away from Andrew. She was bait to him, nothing more.

  He might have already killed her. Andrew was enjoying his own sick game. Let him. Let him choke on the pieces.

  I got into the driver’s side of the car and slowly maneuvered it up the snowy road. Fifteen minutes later, my childhood home came into view. It was a two-story wood structure with its own private driveway. One hundred-year-old trees surrounded the house, and I remembered that sometimes during violent rainstorms, branches would scratch against the windows. On nights like those, I’d leave my bedroom and fall asleep on the couch. My parents would find me in the morning and Mom always made me pancakes.

  My life had been happy, easy. And then they’d died, leaving me with Andrew; a resentful, cold caregiver—a man who wanted to destroy me. It only reinforced what I’d already learned; family wasn’t family just because of shared blood.

  I slid out of the car before all my courage deserted me. It was cold and the sky was white; heavy snow was imminent. I tromped up the steps of the front porch and knocked on the door. It opened, revealing an armed man with facial hair and dead eyes.

  I looked up at him and stated, “Take me to my brother.”

  He didn’t answer, but he did step aside. I entered the foyer of my childhood home. It no longer looked the same. Andrew must’ve redecorated it. Or maybe it had been Lila. Had my brother been planning on raising his child here?

  The front door shut, and it sounded ominous and final—like the lid of a coffin closing. I shook off that morbid thought and removed my coat. I wore a skintight black turtleneck dress and leather boots that stopped just below my knee. My hair was twisted up in a bun and held with a hairpin.

  “I’ll have to search you.” His eyes drifted down my body. I hoped he hadn’t violated Katherine.

  “That won’t be necessary, John.”

  Chapter 52

  I should’ve known it would come to this.

  All roads led here, but four years ago, when I met Flynn Campbell, I had no way of knowing this was how it was going to play out.

  “Barrett,” the brown-haired man greeted, his smile wide and insincere. “So good to see you.”

  “Where is she?” I demanded, forcing myself to remain calm when all I wanted to do was unleash the beast, unleash the monster and let blood spray.

  “She’s here,” he said with a negligent shrug. “And still in one piece.” He chuckled. “For now.”

  “Who are you? What have you become?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same question. Wife to a known criminal. Mother to his children.” He sneered in disgust. “I’m ashamed of you.”

  “Me?” I laughed, the sound shrill, empty, cold. “I can still look in the mirror. What about you?”

  “I finally have what I want,” he said. “You. Here.”

  “I didn’t come for you,” I lied. “I came for her.”

  Cocking his head to one side, he studied me like an animal in a zoo. “I never understood that about you. Your intense, unwavering loyalty.”

  “You never understood a lot of things about me.”

  He rolled his eyes, looking bored. “Should we get on with this?”

  “You let her go. Now. You have what you want. You got me here. Let her go,” I repeated.

  He studied me for a moment. “Are you afraid?”

  “To die?” I asked. “No.”

  “Most people would be afraid.”

  I smiled, showing a lot of teeth. “I’m not most people.”

  “No, I guess you’re not,” Andrew said. “Let’s go sit in the library.” He looked at the giant standing next to me. “Bring up the girl.”

  I followed Andrew up to the second floor, down the hallway to the last door. The room had once been my father’s office. It had a view of the front of the property and I always wondered how Dad never seemed to get distracted.

  It no longer looked like the room I remembered. I took a seat on a new black leather couch. A fire crackled in the hearth, but I hardly noticed the warmth. It was cold in the room—my brother used to be a man of extreme and volatile temper. I hardly rec
ognized him now. His brown eyes were watchful, careful.

  He took a seat in the matching leather chair, looking comfortable and assured.

  “Why didn’t you have me searched?” I asked.

  “Where would you be hiding a weapon?” he inquired.

  “I could have a gun strapped to my leg.”

  “Maybe,” he agreed. “But we both know you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the girl.”

  “How long?” I demanded.

  Andrew cocked his head to one side. “How long what?”

  “How long have you been planning this?”

  “From the moment Campbell took you in form of payment. I had plans to take him down. I was going to. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with him. You weren’t supposed to marry him.”

  “And that’s when you decided to take me down with him?” I asked in genuine curiosity. I could hardly follow Andrew’s thought process—because it wasn’t logical—he wasn’t being logical.

  “You were supposed to stand by me,” he said, anger suddenly appearing on his face.

  “Let’s not pretend you ever gave a shit about me,” I said, bitter and accusatory. “You hated having to take care of me after Mom and Dad.”

  “Your mother was a fucking slut,” he said.

  Andrew was a grown adult, had been for years, and yet, he still blamed my mother for the demise of his parents’ marriage. The truth was, my father and Andrew’s mother had been done a long time before my mother even appeared on the scene.

  I just grinned.

  “You’re just like her,” Andrew spat. “Another fucking slut, spreading her legs for a man who bought her.”

  Andrew’s coldness was a veneer, and not a good one. Over the years, his anger and resentment had turned into something else, hardened into insanity.

  “Tell me about Lila,” I said, changing the subject.

  “A means to an end,” he said with a shrug.

  “I saw photos of the two of you,” I persisted. “You both looked happy.”

  “That was before,” he grumbled. “Before the plan all went to shit. She was supposed to seduce Campbell, but she couldn’t even do that.”

  “So you concocted for her to get Duncan into bed?”

  “Neither one of them took what she was offering. So we set it up to look like something happened.”

  “She was carrying your baby,” I said softly.

  “I wasn’t sure it was mine. Lila was a dancer in Las Vegas.”

  “It was.”

  He scoffed. “How do you know?”

  “Autopsy. Blood type.”

  Andrew paled and then resolutely shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe what you want.” I shrugged like I didn’t care because I didn’t. “Tell me about Filippi. I’m curious about your partnership.”

  “He wanted the Italians. I wanted Campbell destroyed. He came to me. Thought we could work together.”

  Two men who wanted what others had.

  “Thou shalt not covet,” I mocked.

  There was a knock on the library door and then it opened. The armed man, John, hauled Katherine into the room. Her brown hair hung loose, her lip was bloody, and she looked like a rag doll a moment away from having its stuffing busting out.

  I feigned disinterest even though it took all of my willpower not to surge to my feet and go to her. I looked back at Andrew who was watching me closely.

  “Well, are you a man of your word?” I demanded. “Are you going to let her go?”

  “Why would I do that?” Andrew inquired. “I now have you both. I think you’ll both make excellent bartering chips.”

  I laughed making sure it was apathetic. “Flynn won’t give you shit.”

  Andrew looked like he was considering my words. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, does it? I wanted to destroy Campbell. If I kill you, the mother of his children, that’ll bring him to his knees.”

  My heart tripped, but I forced myself to remain cool. “Sure. You could kill me. But then what’s stopping Flynn from killing you? He’ll come after you with a vengeance. And it won’t be fast, either. He’ll make it hurt. He’ll draw it out. He’ll make you cry and beg and still he won’t end it. You think you’ve won, Andrew, but you haven’t. You asked me if I was afraid to die. I’m not.” I gazed at him unflinchingly. “Are you?”

  Chapter 53

  Andrew smiled. It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. “Take the girl back to the basement,” Andrew commanded his man.

  John hauled Katherine towards the door. She finally lifted her face and I could see her eyes. There was no fear in her gaze. She was shaking, but I realized it was in anger. Katherine wanted to fight.

  But it was stupid to fight a man who had a gun.

  If Andrew separated us, it would be harder to get out of there. Together, we stood a chance.

  “So how were going to do this?” I asked Andrew as I went to the liquor cart in the corner. “Were you going to have your man do it? Bullet to the head? What? Are you going to kill us both at the same time?” I poured myself a drink and waited for his answer.

  “I’m going to make Campbell watch,” Andrew clipped, his eyes dark with insanity.

  I snorted and took a drink. “To do that, you need Flynn. You don’t have Flynn.”

  “How do you know I don’t have Flynn?”

  My gaze snapped to his.

  His smile was evil. “Like he’d leave you to do this alone. I know he’s close. So enjoy the scotch, Barrett. Because it will be the last one you ever have.” Andrew looked at his man. “Take them both to the basement.”

  Andrew wanted theater? I’d give him theater.

  I threw my glass of scotch into the fireplace. Flames erupted from the open hearth causing just enough of a distraction for Katherine to slip out of the giant’s grip and dash out of the library. The man growled and ran after her.

  I went for the liquor cart. Wanting to add to the mayhem, I picked up two bottles of liquor and threw them into the fireplace. Glass shattered and alcohol burned; the flames whooshed out of the fireplace, engulfing the edge of the carpet.

  “You fucking cunt!” Andrew screamed, holding up an arm to shield his face from the sudden heat.

  I was steps from the window and took advantage of the commotion. I made it to the window and flipped the latch before gripping the sill. It wouldn’t budge. I’d forgotten that some of the windows in the house were warped from years of humid summers and wet winters. Even if I’d gotten the window open, the old tree next to the house was no longer there. Probably cut down.

  Andrew looked at me, a deadly smirk across his face when he realized I was trapped.

  “I can’t wait to tell Campbell that you burned to death,” Andrew stated. “Horrible way to die.” He looked around the room one last time and then went for the door. He shut it behind him. I heard the snick of the lock. The sound of something scraping across the wood floor and thumping against the door told me that Andrew wasn’t taking any chances with my escape.

  Smoke continued to fill the room and the heat from the flames licked at my skin. Sweat dotted my brow and panic made my hands clammy. I looked around the room, wondering what I could use to break the window. The desk chair was heavy wood. No way I could lift it. My eyes landed on an iron fireplace poker in the corner near the source of the fire.

  Holding my breath, I ran for it. I wrapped my hand around it before realizing it was hot to the touch. I yanked my throbbing hand back. Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes. I couldn’t touch the iron; I needed a buffer. My dress was too heavy to rip. I yanked up my dress and tugged down my underwear and hastily swathed the handle of the iron poker.

  I began to cough as more smoke filled the room. Making it back to the window was difficult; my eyes were watering, and I was lightheaded. Gripping the iron poker, I tried to maneuver it under the sill, but I couldn’t get any leverage.

  With renewed force and frenzy, I attacked the window. Small cracks bega
n to form in the corners.

  The blazing heat was behind me and I knew I was nearly out of time. I refused to die in a fire. I refused to give Andrew the satisfaction.

  With one last burst of energy, I launched the poker at the window. I felt the cold air seeping through the hole in the glass. I prodded the small opening and soon I had a big enough space to crawl through. I dropped the iron poker onto the floor and before I could think too much about it, I managed to crawl through the window. Shards dug into my knees and hands, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. There was a small lip of an edge where I was able to perch awkwardly. There was a rain gutter on one side, but it wasn’t sturdy enough for me to shimmy down.

  I was on the second floor of an old style farmhouse. It was at least ten feet from the ground. I still felt heat at my back—I dared a look behind me and saw that the fire had engulfed the entire room.

  Scooting towards the rain gutter, I turned my body so that I was sitting at an angle on the ledge. With one hand on the rain gutter and the other on the ledge, I tried to distribute my weight, hoping the rain gutter could support me. I’d have to dangle and drop. I was wearing relatively flat boots, so hopefully I’d have a decent foundation.

  There was another whoosh of air and the shattering of glass. The flames must’ve found the last of the liquor. Tendrils of fire snaked out the window to lick across my hand still on the ledge. Without thought, I let go, letting the rain gutter take all of my weight. It groaned in protest and I felt it loosen.

  And then I was falling.

  Falling…

  Chapter 54

  There was no pain. Just cold numbness. Wet. I felt something on my cheeks. Tears? No, that wasn’t right. Snow flakes, maybe. I stuck out my tongue and caught a few.

  There was a buzzing in my ears. Annoying. Insect like. I wanted to sleep. Sleep forever.

  “Barrett! Barrett! Come on, hen, wake up. Wake up for me.”

  “No,” I grumbled.

  “Love, open your eyes.”

  The tone of voice was commanding. Insistent.

  I opened my eyes and stared into dark blue ones. A smile of relief brushed Flynn’s mouth. Behind his head, I saw flames coming from the roof of my childhood home. I was too numb to care.