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Taylor’s gaze finally settled on me with the gun pointed at Aydin, and in a blur, it all happened.

Will charged for Taylor, Aydin scurried off the floor and threw himself at Will, and the next thing I knew, Taylor had grabbed the gun, ripped it out of my hands, tossed it, and gripped the back of my head with one hand and threw a punch into my stomach with the other.

My insides tried to push through my spine, vomit rose up my throat, and I coughed, dropping to my knees.

Tears filled my eyes as everyone, blurry in front of me, scrambled to separate Will and Aydin. Taylor lifted me up and slammed me against the staircase, squeezing my jaw between his fingers and hovering over me.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he gritted.

My body wracked with pain, and I sucked in air, trying to catch my breath as the inside of my mouth cut on my teeth.

But he was pulled away, someone grabbing his hand, bending his finger back, and bringing him to his knees as he cried out. I blinked, gasping as Aydin grabbed the gun, propped it up on the floor for leverage, and shot the bayonet down, slicing off Taylor’s pinky finger.

I widened my eyes as blood spurted, spilling onto the marble, and everyone stopped, their attention caught now.

Taylor screamed, but Aydin didn’t waste any time. He hauled him up, threw him over his shoulder, and headed for the back of the house.

“Bring Will, too!” he shouted.

Huh?

I looked between Rory and Micah, who both looked unsure, but then Rory gritted his teeth and moved first, grabbing Will.

“No!” Alex and I shot forward, reacting, but Micah pushed us back, protecting Rory.

What the hell?

Micah helped him, both of them force-walking Will and following Aydin as Alex and I trailed. I grabbed the gun on my way, sweat coating my body as I watched Alex swipe a candlestick. We were both armed now, a trickle of blood gliding down my blade, and Taylor’s finger on the floor somewhere.

Why had Aydin done that? Taylor was his lapdog.

“Aydin, please,” I begged.

Where was he taking them?

He opened the door to the cellar, descended the stairs with the boys, and we chased, jogging down the stone steps to see them throwing Will on the ground as Aydin tied up Taylor’s wrists and slung them over a hook above his head. Blood poured down his arm, and he breathed hard, his face twisted in pain.

Next, he moved to Will, but shot a glance to us. “Hold them!” he ordered Micah and Rory.

“No!” We raised our weapons, and they stopped in front of us, the confrontation at a stand-still as Aydin squatted next to Will.

He laid there, blood dripping off the corner of his mouth, his eyes cast down, and making no move to fight more.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Alex was right. Will could take these guys. My God. This hurt more than the pain in my gut. I couldn’t watch.

“I like you,” Aydin told him, unknotting some rope. “I didn’t think I would. Life has a weird sense of humor, you know? I watched you with her at parties. I’d see you with her at restaurants. Then, lo and behold, you show up here, our new inmate.”

Her. Alex.

I straightened, a thought taking form in my head. It was strange that out of all the people in the world, they wound up in the same place. Two men who both knew Alex.

One who clearly resented the other for it.

“Remember when you asked me if I could get things other than alcohol and cigarettes?” he questioned Will.

And I gulped. No. He had Will brought here. Either for revenge or to take him away from Alex.

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