“I’ll blow your brains out without hesitation,” he threatens, pushing the muzzle in harder as he drives around the rear of the building one-handed. “Take the belt off and toss it in the back seat.”
I do as he asks, glaring at him the whole time. “Whatever you’ve done, you should reconsider.”
He snorts. “Shut your mouth. There’s nothing you can say that’ll get you out of this. I’m not like the others. I’m not so easily manipulated.”
He parks the car, keeping the gun pressed to my skull as he switches off the engine. He hauls me over the console, dragging me out the driver side on my hands and knees, keeping the gun pointed at my head.
A pair of blood-spattered boots lands in front of me, and my apprehension increases tenfold.
Galen reels me to my feet, grabbing my arm painfully and pressing the weapon into my lower back.
“Lennox,” a familiar voice says.
“Knight.” Galen nods at my ex. “We still have a deal?”
“Hell yeah,” Darrow says, glaring at me. “I want the traitorous bitch dead as much as you do.”
“Kill her someplace remote.” Galen passes me to Darrow.
Darrow immediately spins me around and pulls a knife out. He presses it against my throat, holding me against his body with my back to his chest.
“You’re making a mistake. You don’t understand. I’m—”
Galen stuffs a rag in my mouth, cutting me off. “I’m done listening to your bullshit. You’re a lying whore. The others are too blinded by your pussy to see what’s right in front of them. You think you could rat us out to the enemy and get away with it?” He sneers. “I don’t care how justified you feel. No one betrays The Sainthood and survives.”
“When will we get our cut?” Darrow asks, nicking my skin and drawing blood as he presses the knife against my throat.
“When I have proof that she’s dead.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Click here to read the bonus scenes from the guys’ POVs, or copy and paste this link into your browser: https://smarturl.it/ResurrectionBonus
CHAPTER 1
Harlow
SWEAT GLIDES DOWN my spine and plasters strands of hair to my forehead as I roll around the trunk of Darrow’s BMW while he takes me to who-the-fuck-knows where. The skin on my wrists is torn and bleeding because my asshole ex bound the plastic ties way too tight, most likely on purpose, because he seems hell-bent on making me suffer.
I don’t know how long we’ve been driving, but it seems like forever before I feel the car slowing down. We take a sharp turn over bumpy terrain, and my head slams into the side of the trunk as he drives over a pothole way too fast. I’m tossed around like a rag doll, and I hiss, as pain zips across my brow, cursing him through the rag still stuffed in my mouth.
An icy-cold chill whooshes into the cloying space as the trunk opens, and I welcome the cool balm on my overheated skin. I glare at Darrow as he roughly lifts me out by my upper arms.
He smirks, his eyes raking over me. “You’re a mess.”
Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.
If I could speak, I’d tell him he’s not looking so hot himself. He’s sporting several cuts and bruises on his face, a streak of blood is smeared across one cheek, his shirt is ripped, and mud mixes with blood splatters on his pants and dirty boots, in the aftermath of the epic gangland battle that went down earlier tonight.
Darrow places me on the ground and slams the trunk closed. My legs are stiff from being bent at an awkward angle, and I almost take a tumble when my feet hit the gravel underfoot, but I recover fast, straightening up as I drink in my surroundings.
Darrow digs his nails into my arm while dragging me along a debris-strewn path toward a derelict three-story apartment building. Sparse open fields surround us on one side, and a dense forested area is on the other. It’s pitch-black out here, and the only illumination is from some large building in the far distance.
Galen told him to take me someplace remote to kill me, and it looks like Darrow is listening. He could shoot me dead right now, and no one would hear the bullet echoing through the silent air or see my lifeless body falling to the ground. He could drag me to the forest and bury me in full view, because there is no one around to witness the crime.
When we reach the building, Darrow shoves me onto the stairs, nudging a gun in my back, urging me to climb. I walk carefully up the rusted stairway until I reach the first level.
“Turn right,” he commands, and I step over broken glass, crumpled beer cans, dirty cigarette butts, and evidence of drug usage, wondering what other kinds of criminal activity goes down here.
When I come to a dead end, Darrow presses the muzzle of the gun into my temple while he removes a set of keys from the back pocket of his jeans. “Move a muscle, and I’ll pull the trigger.”
I wonder what it says about me that I’m not scared. It’s not because Dar is incapable of following through. He’s a dangerous asshole, and he thinks I betrayed him, so it wouldn’t take much to force his hand. But he forgets I know him, and he’s selfish to his core. When he realizes what he’s done, and how badly this could end for him, he will play it my way.
I’m confident I can talk him around, provided I don’t piss him off in the meantime.
He unlocks the door to the last apartment, shoving me inside as he flicks the light switch on the wall. The door slams shut behind us as I walk the narrow hallway with Darrow close at my back. “In there.” He pushes me forward, through an open door, into a small square room, switching the light on.
The place is surprisingly clean but sparsely furnished. There’s a tiny kitchenette on the right with a table and two chairs. On the left is a lumpy-looking couch in front of a worn wooden coffee table and an empty bookcase.
He pushes me down on the couch, and I face-plant on the worn navy material, my nose wrinkling in disgust as I’m assaulted by a myriad of putrid smells. I push off my elbows, awkwardly straightening up, ignoring the chafing at my wrists and the accompanying pain.
Dar stalks to the kitchen, returning with a couple bottles of water. He puts them down on the table before tucking his gun into the back waistband of his jeans. He removes the rag Galen stuffed in my mouth, and I suck in greedy lungsful of air. In an unexpected tender move, Darrow brushes strands of matted hair off my brow, tucking hair behind my ears. “Here.” He holds a bottle of water to my dry lips, and I tilt my head back, drinking as he tips the liquid into my parched mouth.
“Thanks,” I say after I’ve drunk my fill, and he recaps the bottle.
He runs his fingers along my jawline, and an unpleasant shudder whips through me.
There was a time his touch was welcome, but now, everything about him disgusts me.
“It should never have come to this, Lo.” He shakes his head while his fingers continue sweeping across my skin. “You shouldn’t have stepped foot in that room. The minute you swapped sides, you signed your death warrant.”
“Why am I here?” I ask, glancing around as I ignore his attempt to bring me down memory lane. “I thought you were supposed to be killing me.”
He snorts out a laugh. “Eager to die, babe?”
“Eager for the truth to come out.”
“And what truth is that?” He pulls a chair over from the kitchen. Placing it in front of me, he sits down, straddling it.
“You are not in possession of all the facts.”
“Why else do you think I haven’t put a bullet in your skull yet?” He quirks a brow.
“What deal did you strike with Galen?”
He shakes his head, smirking as he grabs my chin, gripping it painfully. “You’re not calling the shots here, Lo. I’ll be the one asking the questions.”
“So, ask me.”
He runs his thumb along my bottom lip. “Why does Galen Lennox want you dead?”
I shrug. “There could be many reasons. He’s been gunning for my ass from day one, and I’m convinced there’s something in the past driving his behavio
r. But it’s probably because he thinks I betrayed them by giving up the location of the warehouse.”
“The fake warehouse,” Darrow cuts in, his nostrils flaring.
“I didn’t know it was fake when I messaged you, and we both know I wasn’t the one who leaked that intel first.” I scrutinize his face, watching his reaction carefully. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and he doesn’t refute my statement, which is all the confirmation I need.
The Arrows have a mole in The Sainthood’s ranks.
Interesting.
“Did you know it was an ambush?” Dar asks, removing his hands from my face.
“I only found out late last night.”
“That was still time to warn us,” he hisses.
I keep my cool as I drop the first hint. “And why would I go against my own to do that? Especially when you reneged on our deal.”
“I didn’t renege on shit,” he spits. “I was holding Johnny off until you delivered.” He gets up and starts pacing. “Have you any idea the shit you’ve landed me in?” He pulls his gun out, stalking to my side and shoving it in my forehead. “I should just kill you now.”
“If you do, you’ll be signing your own death warrant.”
He laughs hysterically. “I’m not afraid of Saint. He can’t even control his own crew.”
“You say that with confidence, but how do you know Galen wasn’t acting on Saint’s instructions? That this isn’t part of some bigger play?”
My heart hurts at the thought it could all be a lie.
That Saint’s concern was an act.
That Galen wasn’t going rogue but merely following orders.
Emotions have clouded my judgment, and I don’t know what to believe.
He shrugs. “Whether he was or wasn’t doesn’t concern me. He doesn’t frighten me. As far as our prez is concerned, I fucked up big time tonight. We lost good guys at that warehouse, and their blood is on my hands. You helped set us up. Killing you will go some way toward righting the wrong.”
“No, it won’t. C’mon, Dar. You’re way smarter than this. If you kill me, you’ll bring the full weight of The Sainthood down on top of you. It will make earlier tonight look like child’s play. I doubt Archer Quinn will thank you for digging a deeper hole.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re not that important to them.”
“I’m a member of The Sainthood, Dar. Sinner just approved my initiation. That’s where the guys were supposed to be taking me. Galen wouldn’t have pulled this stunt had he known.”
He bursts out laughing. “You expect me to believe that bull?”
“It’s the truth. I bear the mark. Pull up my hoodie at the back, and I’ll show you.”
“I’ve seen your back, sweetheart, and there’s no mark there.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Think about it, Dar. I kept my skirt on every time you fucked me from behind. Didn’t you ever wonder why?”
“That was on purpose?” His voice reveals his surprise.
I nod. “I’ve gone to great lengths to disguise the mark, as did my father. He’s the one who arranged my avenging angel tattoo.”
I turn around, offering him my back. “Take a look. Lower right-hand side of my back, just above my ass.”
He gets up and presses his palm into my back, shoving me into the icky couch, and I hold my breath to avoid inhaling the noxious fumes. He pushes my hoodie up to my waist and tugs my yoga pants down a little, exposing my bare back. He leans in close, his warm breath creeping across my skin like fog. His fingers skate over the exact place where Sinner branded me at thirteen. “Holy fuck.”
I turn my head to the side. “Now, do you believe me?”
He fists a hand in my hoodie, yanking me back up. “If you expect this to work in your favor, you’re sorely mistaken.” He curls his finger around the trigger as he pushes the barrel of the gun into my chest. “It only adds to the reasons to kill you.”
“Sinner branded that on my skin when he kidnapped me at thirteen. He’s had plans for me all this time. What do you think he’ll do to you if you eliminate me? I’m not just the first female member of The Sainthood. I’m soon to be his stepdaughter. If you kill me, it won’t just mean an Arrows versus Saints war. Sinner will go after you personally. He won’t stop until you’re dead.” I stare at his blood-streaked face. “I don’t know about you, but a scenario where we both end up dead sounds like a fucking shit plan to me. Especially when there are much better plans we could enact.”
“Like what?”
I force my eyes wide and deliberately inject excitement into my tone because I need to sell this if I’m to get out of here alive. If The Arrows already have a mole, my suggestion carries less weight, so I need to convince my ex this is a solid offer and something he can take to his president to get back into Archer’s good graces. “Like I become a spy for The Arrows. Sinner is sending me to their training facility, and he’ll assign me initiation tasks. I’m being groomed to enter the senior chapter with the guys after we graduate next year. I will be privy to all their inner workings and all their secrets. Isn’t that intel worth more to The Arrows than my death? And I have more files like the one I gave you. You can get more of your guys out of jail with proof evidence was planted and witness testimony coerced.” I’d given him a file Dad had on one of The Arrows, a guy named Alfred, to keep him happy and off my back. The file contained proof he’d been set up, and Alfred was now a free man.
He keeps the gun pressed to my chest, but I spot the indecision in his gaze. He’s wavering.
“Why would you do that? If you are a member, why risk betraying them? If Galen could do this to you now, imagine what the organization would do if they discovered you were spying for us?”
“That’s for me to worry about. As for the reason.” I pause for a second, swallowing over the lump in my throat. My chest heaves as the usual pain presses down on my rib cage. “They kidnapped and tortured me when I was only a kid and they murdered my father,” I say through gritted teeth.
Dar’s face registers shock, so this is news to him.
“I want them to pay. All of them but especially that bastard Sinner.”
He lowers the gun, tucking it back in his jeans, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief, knowing I’ve won. Thank fuck. It was a little touch and go there for a while.
“I didn’t swap sides, Dar,” I add. “I’ve always been on Team Lo, and that hasn’t changed. We have a common enemy. We both want to see The Sainthood taken down. I can help. We can help each other.” I hold out my bound wrists. “And this way you get to save face with Archer and get your future back on track. Win-win for both of us.”
“Don’t make me regret this,” he says, bending down and removing the knife strapped to his calf, before cutting the ties off me.
“That works both ways,” I say, gently probing the tender skin at my wrists.
He sits down beside me on the couch, flipping the knife between his fingers. “How do we spin this?”
I lean in, as if I’m going to kiss him, and his eyes zero in on my mouth. I whip the knife from his hand and slam it into his thigh before he’s had time to register the motion. I press down on it, twisting it for good measure, deriving immense pleasure from inflicting pain.
Bastard fucking deserves it.
A bloodcurdling roar rips through the air as blood pumps from the wound and his face pales. I work fast, stretching behind him to grab his gun before he shoots me. I put the safety on and zip it in the pocket of my hoodie. “Don’t worry, I didn’t hit any arteries,” I confirm, reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out his keys and his wallet.
“You fucking bitch,” he yells, his fingers curling around the handle of the knife.
“I wouldn’t remove that—not unless you want to bleed out all over the floor.” I stand. “You should get to a hospital.” I grin as I crouch down over him. I grab firm hold of his chin, tilting his face up as I peer into his eyes. “That’s a warning. Betray me again
, and next time, I’ll embed it in your heart.”
His face is a mix of hatred and respect as he glares at me. “Now, now, don’t be like that.” I mess up his hair, straightening up and slanting him a mock smile. “This explains how I escaped when Galen comes knocking.”
It makes him look like a total pussy too, but I don’t articulate that thought.
I saunter toward the door, humming under my breath.
“We have a deal, Lo,” he yells. “And if you fuck me over again, I will slit your throat without stopping to ask questions next time.”
I spin around, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’m glad we’re both on the same page.” I dangle his keys from my fingers. “I’ll be in touch.” My lips twitch. “Try not to die in the meantime.”
He screams obscenities at my retreating back as I exit the apartment, steal his car, and hightail it out of there.
CHAPTER 2
Saint
WE ARE AT Lo’s house, grabbing clothes and shit to take with us to the safe house in Grenlow, when my cell pings with a message from Galen.
Change of plans. Meet me at the barn.
“What the fuck?” I stop what I’m doing and call his number, but the asshole doesn’t pick up.
“Sup?” Caz asks, wandering into Lo’s bedroom. He stalls when he sees my expression.
“Galen wants to meet at the barn.”
“Why?” Theo asks, materializing behind Caz.
“I don’t know, but I’ll kick his fucking ass. I made myself clear.” Galen does not get to challenge my decisions. Especially not this one. Not when it comes to her safety. I stuff the rest of Lo’s things into the bag, grab my duffel, and stride toward the door.
“You drive,” I tell Caz when we emerge outside, tossing him the keys to my Land Rover. “I want to keep trying the asshole.” Caz puts his foot to the pedal, and we floor it out of there with Theo hot on our tail in his SUV.
I call Galen repeatedly, but he’s not picking up. I go to call Lo before remembering I smashed her cell to smithereens. Couldn’t risk Dad tracking it when she doesn’t show at the training facility.
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