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Air snorts from my nostrils. I cross the room, rip my knife from the wounded man’s flesh, and shove his own tongue down his throat. “Choke on that, you infant-stealing rapist cunt.”
“Okay, playtime’s up.” Rafe raps his knuckles against the plaster wall, leaving marks.
“No. I can’t go back and tell her she’s not safe,” I rasp.
Cold fury fills me to overflowing as I find another man still sucking in his last eternal breath and crush his windpipe under my boot. The need to dosomethingrips rage through me like a tactile weapon I can wield against these fuckers. Anything, to give her peace.
Muttering obscenities in Greek, Rafe crosses the floor, cupping his hands around my jaw. His forehead presses to mine. “You have had my back for over a decade. These jobs don’t always conclude in one hit. You know that, Dom.”
“I know,” I grumble, unwilling to admit my failure.
Rafe huffs a soft laugh no one could mistake for humor. “So, we don’t win this one. Tell your girl what she means to you, and you help her forget. We don’t stop hunting, and we keep our ears open. We will find him, and we will erase his putrid existence from this world. But not today, myadelphos. Not today.”
My brother.
I close my eyes and drop my knife. Exhaustion washes over me. “It feels like giving up.”
Rafe releases me, guiding me out the office door and leaving the groans of dying men to their own hell. “We play a long game, Dom. He won’t see us coming.”
The corner of my mouth curls up. He’s right. It doesn’t matter if it’s today, or tomorrow, or next year. I will rip Singleton’s spine from his body and lay it at Thalia’s feet.
Right now, I’ll beg her forgiveness for not presenting her with the trophy I want to offer her and pray she’ll understand.
****
I stride into the house, heading for Thalia’s room, but I don’t make it that far. She waits for me in the kitchen, playing with some of Luca’s knives where she perches on the bench while he details how to take a man apart in seven slices or less.
Pausing in the shadows, I let the chef talk. His smooth voice dips low and soothing as he describes in intimate detail a process few understand, and even less who can listen so raptly to his dark, seductive tale.
“This one?” Thalia picks up a slim blade made for filleting.
“Slide it beneath the skin, like this.” Luca demonstrates, passing the deadly edge beneath imaginary flesh. “It falls right off.”
“He’s right.” I step into the light, my arms crossed over my chest. “Hello, Thalia.”
Her eyes flare as soon as I speak. “Dom.” Her mouth falls open as she takes in my appearance. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head, letting her come to the conclusion that none of the blood is mine.
“Should I have showered first?” My gaze flicks to Luca.
His eyes narrow, and he lets out a soft huff.
“No,” Thalia whispers, sliding off the bench. Her bare feet hit the floor as she patters over to me, standing in the scarlet puddle where blood drips from my hands still. “Is it—What happened?”
“We didn’t find him,” I say gently, my heart shredding itself when her eyes fall shut. Brushing her chin up with my bloodied knuckle, I wait until she looks at me again. “But I personally ended every man on my list who touched you. They will nothurt you, ever again.”
“Thank you,” she mouths. She steps into me and wraps her arms around my waist, despite that I’m covered in the sins of more than a dozen men, dripping with their final, agonized breaths. And she holds me through it all.
My arms fold around her tiny frame, though she’s not as fragile as when I first brought her here. Scratch that. Thalia wasneverfragile. Scarred, broken, damaged, perhaps.
Strong.
She’s all of those things, and as I rest my cheek on the top of her head, the ground shifts beneath me, and my heart squeezes tight for her.
“I’ll find him. I promise. I’ll find out what happened to your girl, honey.” I cup her face, smudging her skin with the souls of her tormentors, and press my mouth to hers.
She freezes, and for a horrific moment, I do too.
