Black Hearts: A Dark Captive Romance (Heartbreaker Book 3)

by Stella Hart

  I smiled. I’d always loved her spark. “Go ahead,” I said softly.

  Her eyes wavered for a few seconds, and I worried she was changing her mind. Then she lowered the gun and turned to me. “I just realized something,” she said softly.

  “What?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be able to do it, you little bitch,” Dwyer piped up with a mocking sneer. Celeste stepped over to him and kicked him in the face, right in the nose. He groaned, and blood sprayed from one nostril, collecting in crimson droplets on his pale blue shirt.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Celeste said. She stepped back over to me. “Alex,” she went on, noticing my expression. “I didn’t change my mind. I want to do it. But….” Her gaze drifted to the floor. There was something she didn’t want to say out loud.

  “What?” I asked. “Tell me. We promised, remember? No holding back.”

  “I know, I just don’t want to hurt you any more than you’ve already been hurt,” she murmured. “But I remembered something. When Dwyer came to the house, pretending to rescue me, he made up this whole story about what allegedly happened to your sister when he saw me holding a photo of her. I know he did it to make me hate you and not trust you, but it just occurred to me—he knew her name before I said anything at all. He recognized her immediately.”

  I looked at Dwyer, then back at her. “So you think….”

  She nodded. “I think he was the one who went and hurt her every single week with a smile, like you said earlier. It makes sense; he was around in the Circle that long ago, and he really seemed amused by what he did to me earlier. He loves torturing girls, and I think he loves it even more when they try to fight back. I also think he’s one of the guys who tried to kill her that day. So I just thought, as much as I want to kill him….” She handed the gun back to me. “This one should be yours. He was probably the worst one to Lina. It’s okay; there’ll be others for me to get later.”

  I looked at Dwyer. “Is that true?” I asked, eyes narrowed with rage. “Evangeline Gibson was your favorite girl at the mansion, and you saw her every week? You were there when they tried to murder her?”

  He stared back at me with a faux-innocent expression on his smarmy face. “Yeah. You got me. What’s it to you?” He paused, then chuckled. “Oh wait, that’s right. West found an old newspaper article about her vanishing act and the little story they said she made up when she was found again. You were mentioned in the photo caption with the rest of the family. You’re her half-brother.”

  I shook my head at his sheer wickedness, feeling the oily, creeping need to kill slithering through my guts. I glanced at Celeste again. She was looking at Dwyer, her jaw set in a determined manner. I thought of the bastard hurting her. I thought of how he hurt my sister all those years ago. All that pain and suffering.

  I needed this fucker to feel that pain himself.

  I crouched down to his level. “She was only thirteen when you took her.”

  Dwyer sneered. “If she hadn’t wandered around at night looking like a little whore, maybe we wouldn’t have taken her. Besides, you’ve got it all wrong. She loved it. All that fighting back… it was just an act. She wanted it all.”

  He looked at me expectantly, a faint smile curling up his thin lips. I knew exactly what he was doing. He expected me to lash out, and that was the exact reaction he wanted. He thought if he riled me up enough, I’d get so angry that I’d kill him quickly in my fit of rage; shoot him right in the head or heart.

  He wouldn’t get that satisfaction from me. His death would be screaming, burning agony.

  “I know what you’re up to, and it won’t work,” I said softly, putting the gun down and pushing it away, sending it skidding across the concrete to the other side of the room. “Celeste is right. This kill should be mine, and it won’t be fast. It won’t be with a bullet. I only wish I could make it take as long as what you did to my sister. Two fucking years.”

  For the first time, Dwyer looked frightened. He already knew we were going to kill him, but now he finally knew how much it would hurt, because I wasn’t falling for his games.

  I unbuttoned his shirt, and he struggled against me, trying to break free of his bonds. It was useless. He was stuck fast.

  I pulled out my knife again, holding it right to his face, then lowering it to his hairy gut. “See how you like it,” I said softly, sinking the blade into his flesh. I dragged it around in a slow circle, carving the pattern deeply into his skin.

  He screamed until Celeste stepped over, grabbed a small towel from the cart and shoved it in his mouth. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”

  “Thanks, angel,” I said, looking up at her with a smile. She smiled back.

  Dwyer whimpered and looked down at his stomach, his face turning pale as he saw the circular gash and all the blood leaking from it. I ripped the towel out of his mouth.

  “That’s just the beginning,” I said, standing up and glaring down at him. “Is there anything you want to tell us? I’ll make it go a teensy bit faster if you give us any information we can use. It’ll still hurt, but not for as long.”

  He gulped down a deep breath, then spat at my feet. “Fuck off.”

  “Hm. Just like I thought.” I took Celeste aside. “I need you to play along with what I say next,” I murmured softly. “Your therapist had a number in her phone under the name William. Probably not a real name, but still—it was there for a reason. I’m gonna use it to see how he reacts.”

  She nodded, then sat back and watched as I sliced off part of Dwyer’s left ear with a razor from the metal tray. He screamed again, his plaintive cries echoing around the room.

  “You sure there isn’t anything you want to tell us?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

  Dwyer tried his best to compose himself, then spat at me again. “I said, fuck off.”

  “I heard you. But see, the thing is, we already know a lot more than you think. We know where your mansion headquarters are; we just need to get everyone there at the same time,” I said, beginning my bluff. “That’s why we need you.”

  “Bullshit,” he snarled. “You don’t know shit. There’s no way you know where it is.”

  “Oh, but I do. I know everything about it, down to the cracked marble fountain out the front,” I said smoothly. “So I need you to do me a favor and call William.”

  Dwyer’s eyes went wide, and I could tell he finally believed that I knew a lot more than I actually did. “How… how do you know where it is? And how do you know about him? Who the fuck told you?”

  “I have my ways. I have William’s number, too,” I said, pulling out my phone. “I think it’s an old one, but I’m sure you have the new one, right?”

  He didn’t respond and simply stared, presumably still unable to believe someone had betrayed their loyalties and given me crucial information. Allegedly.

  “Anyway, here’s your task, if you want a slightly quicker death. You’re gonna call William, and you’re gonna tell him you received a letter from the Heartbreaker.”

  “A letter?” Dwyer shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  I held up a hand. “Don’t interrupt. You’ll say the letter was taunting you, saying that the Heartbreaker is actually one of you, and that the whole ‘Alex Magnusson’ thing was a red herring he threw out there to trick you. He’s a Circle member gone rogue years ago, out of guilt. That’s how he’s been getting you all. Slowly, surely. One by one. He could’ve gotten rid of all of you years ago, but he’s enjoyed playing this game with you. Enjoyed watching you all squirm, waiting to see who will be next.” I paused for dramatic effect. “After you’ve said that, you need to tell William he has to organize an event for every single member at the mansion. It’s compulsory they attend, or else it will be assumed they are the guilty party and dealt with accordingly. Once everyone is there, you’ll be able to start figuring out which one of you is the killer. Kinda like a game of Clue, only for sick pedophiles. Think about it.”

  Dwyer looked
down at the floor, contemplating my words. Blood was still seeping from his ear wound and the carved circle on his stomach. He looked hopeless.

  “Alex,” Celeste whispered, pulling me aside again so that he couldn’t hear anything. “We don’t actually know where the mansion is. Even if he does what you say, how are we going to get there for this event?”

  “I think we’ll be able to find it. Dr. Fitzgibbons told me quite a few details about it, and I think those details might trigger enough in your mind to help you remember where it is.”

  Her eyes widened. “But what if I don’t?”

  “Then we’ll just have to find it the hard way and drive around looking at every mansion in a thirty mile radius until we find one that matches the description.”

  “That could take ages.” She crossed her arms.

  “I’ll have him make the event in two weeks’ time. But don’t worry, angel. I think you’ll be able to remember. I believe in you.”

  She chewed her bottom lip. “I guess I did start to recall more stuff recently. Last night I finally remembered what the main ballroom looked like.”

  I touched a hand to her shoulder. “See? It’s gonna be fine.” I knew it was a gamble, but I had a feeling it would work. Celeste had been exposed to the truth for a while now, and the memories were returning, slowly but surely. They would keep coming.

  “I’ve thought about it,” Dwyer said from the other side of the room.

  We returned our attention to him. “And?” I asked, stepping closer.

  He gave me a cold, humorless smile. “And my answer is still: fuck off. Just because someone else gave up information and helped you doesn’t mean I will.”

  Celeste jumped in before I could reply. “I had a feeling you might say that,” she said. “But you should know, I remember your desk back at the field office. You have a photo of your kids on there. You might like hurting other people’s kids, but you don’t want yours sliced and diced, do you?”

  She tilted her head to the side questioningly. I smiled at her. She was taking to this game like a duck to water. We both knew we’d never hurt Dwyer’s kids, but he didn’t know that.

  “You... you wouldn’t do that,” he muttered. We’d rattled him; I knew it.

  Celeste smiled. “Is that a risk you want to take? What were their names again?” She scratched her chin. “Oh, Eric and Sarah, right? Shouldn’t be too hard for us to track down.”

  “I….” Dwyer shook his head helplessly. “Please. Don’t.”

  “What’s it like being the one to beg for once?” I asked, staring down at him without a trace of pity in my expression. “Must feel weird, huh?”

  “You couldn’t really hurt a kid, could you?” he replied softly, his eyes wide as he stared at each of us in turn.

  “That’s ironic, coming from you,” Celeste said, her cheeks blazing red. “Last night, I remembered everything from when I first met you, Dwyer. I was only six, but you still wanted to take me upstairs and do things to me. You certainly don’t seem to have any issue with hurting kids, so why should we?”

  “I promise, if you do as we say, they will be fine,” I added.

  He looked down, realizing there was nothing he could say or do to change our minds. “I’ll make the call,” he said listlessly.

  “Good.” I went and retrieved my gun. “I’m gonna hold this near you while you make it. You go off script for even a split second, and I’ll shoot you right in the cock. Then I’ll find your kids.”

  Dwyer winced at the thought. “I won’t. Just tell me what to say,” he muttered.

  I went through the exact wording of what he needed to say, depending on what the other man said or asked during the conversation. I made him rehearse it a dozen times. Then I grabbed his phone out of his pants pocket and held it out. “Tell me the passcode to get in.”

  “6401.”

  Once I was in his phone, I scrolled through his list of contacts until I found one named William. I held the phone up to him. “Is this the right number?”

  Dwyer nodded bleakly. “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m gonna put it on loudspeaker.” I pressed dial, then hit the loudspeaker button and put the phone in front of Dwyer.

  A man answered only seconds later. “Where the fuck are you, Greg?” he barked.

  “I… I’m stuck at work,” Dwyer said. He nervously cleared his throat. “Have to keep up appearances.”

  The man grunted. “Hmph. Right. I still can’t believe this shit. What the hell are we paying these morons for? They lost the fucking Heartbreaker. The one fucking guy we need. And you know, I actually hold you responsible for that. If you’d hung around and made sure it all went to plan instead of running off with the Riley girl, it might’ve worked. Where is she, anyway?”

  Celeste had a distant expression on her face, as if she vaguely recognized the voice on the other end of the line but couldn’t quite put her finger on where she’d heard it before.

  “She’s dead. I dealt with her as planned,” Dwyer said. “No one will find her for a long time, and when they do, it’ll look like a suicide. I made her write the note and everything.”

  “Good.”

  “Anyway, I was calling about our Heartbreaker situation. Magnusson isn’t even our guy, so we can stop looking for him.”

  “What?” the other man said sharply. “How is that possible? You said—”

  “I know what I said, and I was sure of it at the time. But it’s not him. He had Celeste for all those weeks, yes, and that’s probably why he ran from our guys, but he’s not our killer.”

  “How on earth do you know that?”

  “I got a letter at the office today, from the real Heartbreaker. It said not to tell anyone about it, and that he’d kill my family if he found out I did, but obviously I’m not gonna keep this to myself. I had to tell you, at least.”

  “And? What’d it say?”

  “He was taunting me. He knew I was using West to try and find him, and he fed him false information to make it seem like Magnusson could be our guy, just to play with us. Get this: he said he’s one of our own.”

  “What?”

  “He’s one of us. Inner circle. He’s been playing with us this whole time. All these years, he could’ve killed any one of us at any time. But he likes to play games.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “No bullshit. I actually can’t believe I didn’t realize earlier. Just think about it. We’ve wondered for years how he was finding us; how exactly he knew who we were and what we do. Now we know. He wasn’t discovering things along the way. He always knew, from the very start. He’s been there all along, right under our noses. One of us.”

  The other man was silent for a moment. “Shit,” he finally said. “Fucking shit. No, I… I can’t believe it.” As predicted, it was working. He was clearly unnerved; his croaky old voice had gone up slightly in pitch.

  “Look, I didn’t at first either, but he left something else in the envelope to prove it. It’s a ring that used to belong to John Riley. He stole it from him when he murdered him, and he’s kept it this whole time. Fifteen fucking years.”

  The other man let out a long, shaky breath. He was thoroughly rattled now. “Fuck. Well, obviously it isn’t you, and it isn’t me, but there’s still what… forty-seven others it could be? What’s our membership at these days?”

  “Forty-nine including us, so yes.”

  “What the hell are we supposed to do?”

  “I have an idea. We put the word out to everyone that there’s a compulsory meeting in a couple of weeks at the mansion. We won’t tell them why, and because we’re making it so far in the future, it won’t seem urgent and therefore suspicious. Once they’ve all arrived, we’ll try and figure out who it might be. If it comes down to it, we’ll keep them all fucking locked in that ballroom until we figure it out.”

  “What if he doesn’t show?”

  “If anyone refuses to attend, we can probably assume they’re guilty of something, but I think our guy w
ill come.”

  “Why?”

  “He won’t be able to resist the chance to see us all and secretly laugh at us while he glides around right in front of our fucking faces. He’s been doing it all along, after all. So why would he miss another chance? As long as he doesn’t know I’ve told anyone else about the letter, he’ll be there. It’s just another party to him. Just another chance to mock us.”

  The man grunted. “I suppose that makes sense.”

  “I know it’s a long shot. But we have to try, or else he’s gonna get us all eventually.”

  “Right. I’ll set it up. We’ll do it December 1st. We were going to have a party that night, anyway. I’ll get the word out that it’s compulsory. Perhaps I’ll say we have some new kids coming in, and that’s why.”

  “Good idea,” Dwyer said.

  “I’ll let everyone know. And don’t breathe a word of this to anyone else. Make him think you didn’t tell anyone, just like the letter demanded. Like you said, if he knows we’re onto him, he won’t show. Obviously, we’d know who it is then, but we don’t just want to know. We want to fucking end him, right there.”

  “Yeah. No shit.”

  I waved my hand at Dwyer, and he ended the call.

  “Perfect,” I said with a triumphant smile. “That went even better than I thought it might. It’s a shame you won’t get to attend the party and see all your friends die, though.”

  Dwyer slumped backward, his face white and beaded with sweat. “Just leave my kids alone, okay?” he muttered.

  “Don’t worry. I keep my promises,” I said. “We won’t harm a hair on their little heads.”

  He eyed my gun. “You said you’d kill me fast if I helped you.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Oh, that’s right. I did, didn’t I? But you see, I never actually promised that part.”

  His eyes bulged. “But… you… you said….” he spluttered.

  “Sometimes I lie. You’d know all about that. You’ve spent your whole life lying to people and pretending to be a good guy,” I said. I stood up and inspected the torture devices on the metal cart before selecting a cordless angle grinder. “Well, what a coincidence. This is exactly what I need.”