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A salty, refreshing breeze blew through the entrance, causing a mournful howling noise that echoed off the walls.
We walked in darkness for several steps until Maxon's phone lit up his face. He tapped on it a couple times, then suddenly, a pathway was lit up.
Now that I could see, I easily followed him deeper and deeper into the cave.
He could be marching me straight to Saul, or to kill me himself, Saul not wanting to get his hands dirty.
I hoped that Hawke would keep his word and take care of Summer and Callie if I didn't make it out of here alive.
As we walked, a waft of sulfur filled my nose, and there was an occasional sound of dripping water or flapping bats.
After a while, the cavern became deeper and darker, the lights below doing little to guide the way. My steps fumbled, but Cillian grabbed my shoulders, pushing me to the left and onto the cold, rough stone until I regained my balance.
It felt odd, trusting the big, muscled man to keep me from falling off the edge and into the darkness below. Maybe Summer was beginning to rub off on me.
Ever since that night, the night she’d been forced into my life, literally into my bed, and I’d been overcome with the need to possess her, I’d woken up the next morning ready to bolt.
I didn’t trust people.
And I certainly didn’t want to keep them around forever.
Women were good for fucking, and nothing else.
And yet—even though I tried to avoid her as much as possible—with her bright smile, infuriatingly persistent optimism, and unyielding determination, she was chiseling away at the impenetrable walls around my heart. Like a flicker of light in the darkest of nights.
It terrified me—I hated it as much as I couldn’t help but be drawn to it.
Without warning, the cave plunged into profound blackness, swallowing all traces of the path ahead.
Maxon stopped and tapped on his phone. After a few seconds, another set of lights blinked on, and the cavern before me came alive.
I gasped a breath and grabbed my gun. Before I could point it, Cillian had me by my arms, his fingers tight on my wrist. "Put it away."
I snarled at Maxon. "You're going to have to kill me, because I won't help you with this."
I had my suspicions that the Veritas might be involved in something like this. That my money might be funding it. But to see it like this, so blatantly before me…
No.
"I hoped you would say that." Maxon smiled, his eyes moving from me to meet Cillian's.
"I'm not warning you again," Cillian growled in my ear. "Put that fucking gun away, or I will end you."
I shoved it into my backside. "You'd better have a really fucking good explanation for bringing me here."
"I told you. I need your contacts in Vegas."
"They won't help you," I shook my head, "Not with this."
"Exactly." Maxon agreed. "Now take out your phone, and make the call for me."
I studied his face, focusing in on his eyes. They weren’t the cold eyes I was used to seeing from men in the Veritas, but had a strange warmth to them I found disconcerting.
When it came to dealing with my enemies, I was used to dealing with dead eyes and apathetic expressions. Men who would kill anyone to get what they wanted. But there was something different about Maxon and his secret.
Could I trust him?
Trust.
