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“How are you with needles?” I ask, my breath catching at the sight of her bent over, towel-drying her legs. “Jesus fuck.”
“What?” Her eyes go wide as she takes in my growing cock. “Oh.”
That innocent little word sends me tumbling into madness. I clear the distance between us in two huge steps, dropping the first-aid box so I can use both hands to grip her waist. My vision tunnels until there’s nothing but her pretty face. Every nerve in my body is screaming, demanding that I take her. I’ve lost my fucking mind, and all it took was the sight of her bare legs.
Lillith seems just as entranced. Her lids lower, and she tilts her chin up, waiting for my mouth to claim hers. Pain flashes across her face as I grip her hand. I had meant to guide it behind my neck, but at that look, I freeze. The fire in my veins is doused, replaced by the concern from earlier.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, little flower,” I murmur, pulling away to her whimpers of protest. I shoot her a stern look, and she stops pouting. “I forgot myself for a moment.”
I grab the kit from the floor and gesture to the side of the tub. “Sit.”
I crouch between her knees, twisting her hand palm up to inspect the gash. “This is going to sting,” I whisper, shooting her an apologetic glance before spraying the antiseptic on the wound. She hisses through her teeth, but otherwise makes no protest.
“You’re doing amazing, little flower. Just one more thing.” I squeeze some ointment onto a gauze pad and press it into her palm, then I wrap her entire hand in a thick white bandage. I’m in the middle of securing it with a knot when my phone dings.
It goes off three more times, each becoming increasingly harder to ignore. Lillith raises her brow, giving me a look that screams are you really going to ignore that?
I sigh, placing her bandaged hand onto her lap before ripping the disgraceful phone from my pocket. The first two pings were messages from an unknown number, but the last one is an image. I can’t see what it is without opening my phone, but the texts above tell me it’s not fucking pretty.
Unknown:
You fucked up, Kain. You should have accepted my truce.
A growl rumbles low in my throat as I open my message app. The picture is encrypted, and I have to press it to see what it is. The image finally loads, and it’s so dark and grainy I have to pull it within inches of my nose to make out what it is.
Oh God, no.
He’s tied to a chair, and even though his face is caked with blood, I recognize him instantly.
They got Wes.
PART THREE
THE TOLLING
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
LILLITH
Kain looks like he’s seen a ghost. I don’t know what that message said, but it must be something truly horrible if it can elicit this response.
“Kain, what’s wrong?” I ask, my veins iced with terror. “What happened?”
“They have Wes.”
The way he says it with such cold indifference sends a chill down my spine. It doesn’t match his troubled expression, and I wonder if he knows his mask has slipped.
As I take it in, the horrible truth becomes clear. They took Wes because of me, because of what Kain did at the club in order to keep me safe. That guy in the bathroom said he was Callum’s second, and I doubt they’d let Kain get away with killing such a high-ranking member.
“I’m so sorry, Kain,” I whisper, twisting my necklace around my thumb so tight that it purples. “It’s my fault they took him. I should have—”
“Do not even think about finishing that sentence.” The look he gives me splinters my mind. I didn’t know a man could look so utterly… devastated. It looks like he can feel the tendons of his heart aching, and he’d like nothing more than to reach inside his own chest and rip out the treacherous organ.
“Can you help him? Is there any way to get him back?” I ask, guilt threatening to eat me alive.
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Yes.”
I pause, waiting for him to elaborate or maybe rush off to save his best friend. Instead, he just stands there, taking me in with a thoughtful expression.
