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Her eyes flickered open for a moment and met mine, but they didn’t see me. They were dead. She closed them again.
“Fuck, braveheart.” But that one bead of blood was my answer to the road I was about to take. “You’re going to need to live up to that name now. I can’t do this any other way.”
Because I wasn’t walking away again. And the consequences could get her killed. But she was fading into nothing. She believed she was nothing and London was so much more. She was lost and there was only one way to get her back. I’d have to destroy the girl who’d been running from herself.
Kill Raven.
And hope to find the girl beneath—London.
Her choices had been taken away and she’d been trained to obey. Her survival had depended on being locked inside herself. But she didn’t need to do that anymore.
She was trapped, unable to escape the cycle. Afraid to step out of the shadows. According to Ernie, she’d been seeing therapists, doctors, and they had her on medication after medication, but Ernie thought all they did was make her isolate herself more.
Fuckin’ Ernie. Bastard knew I’d never walk away if I saw her again. That was why he wanted me here.
Now, there was one option for me… for her. I was going to pull her from the safe, from the shadows and destroy every piece of Raven.
I put my knife away, took out the syringe, and removed the cap. I gently lowered her shirt off her right shoulder, the pad of my finger caressing her skin.
The needle pierced her skin and she flinched, but didn’t open her eyes.
“No more running. You’re going to have to be my braveheart in order to survive me.”
After a few minutes, I saw the tension around her eyes ease and knew the sedative had taken effect. The club door opened and Ernie stood there.
I nodded to him and all he said was, “Finally. This deserves a fuckin’ scotch.” Then he slammed the door and went back inside.
I huffed and then picked her up in my arms, before striding back to my car. I put her in the front seat, fastened her seatbelt then got in and started the long drive to my house.
I was taking her home, to a place no one knew about except Ernie.
I was finding London and bringing her back to me.RulesI SAT WITH one leg crooked over the other, my elbow resting on the padded armrest, thumb lightly stroking back and forth over my lower lip. From across the room, I watched her. It had been hours. It was dark now, but now that she was here, time had no meaning. It was about the present.
London’s breathing gradually quickened and she turned over then curled up into a ball, her breath caught in her throat before it changed to deep, ragged inhales as if she were trapped in a nightmare. I didn’t bother waking her. Instead, I did what I was good at—watched. Assessed. Planned.
Eight hours we’d spent driving to my house. A house Vault didn’t know existed. If they found out my loyalty was compromised, they’d find this place. But for now, it was the safest place I knew to take her.
I’d have to check in with Brice in the city at some point, but Tanner had his eyes on Chaos. The anniversary date was drawing near for Chaos’s brother’s ‘death’ and I’d have to meet her in the fuckin’ shed.
I did it. I cut Chaos. And I hated it, but it was something she thought she needed. I refused the first time she asked me and she went to Tanner instead. When I saw what he’d done to her back, I beat the shit out of him, had my blade to his throat ready to kill him. But he belonged to Vault and killing him because he hurt Chaos would speak volumes about me. Volumes that had to be buried.
London kicked the crisp white sheet off and it twisted into a pile at the end of the bed. My eyes trailed up the outline of her body and all I felt was disgust. This wasn’t the girl I stalked for years. It wasn’t the girl I made a deal with and had her silky legs wrapped around me. It wasn’t even the girl I’d left in Mexico.
This was Raven.
A girl trained to pleasure men. Ironic that I’d been trained, too, but in a much different way. Vault didn’t use sex to break you. Children were molded, sculpted into stone. Conditioned.
And now with the drug, London’s father had given them more power. A drug to help them mold men. Men who were already trained killers like Connor.
There was no margin of error allowed. No room for mistakes and yet, I’d made plenty of mistakes in the last few years.
