And despite every muscle in my body screaming at me to stay, I pivot on my heel and sneak out a side door.
Soon, Ellie. Soon.
I’ll be back soon.
And this time, I’ll have a whole fucking army.
11
ELLIE
Beckett met us at the address Aria gave us—an address we forwarded to Landon, Ryker, and my uncle Raymond.
It all proved to be a moot point, though, when the four of us were loaded into a separate car after being thoroughly searched by armed guards.
They found the trackers we’ve kept hidden.
Destroyed them.
Destroyed our phones.
Now, I’ll have no way of contacting my other guys, of telling them we’re okay. I just have to hope that they play this smart. That they don’t reveal their hand too early.
“I’m so bloody grateful you’re okay,” Beckett breathes against my hair. The two of us sit huddled in the back of a nondescript SUV, Dom and Zane in the middle seats.
“I’m fine,” I assure him, stroking his arm. “We’re all fine.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Zane pipes in, swiveling around to face us. Moonlight gilds half of his face, making his white teeth glisten with his deranged smile. “We’re headingtoward an undisclosed location with a psychopathic bitch and her henchmen who I’ve deemed as Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber.”
“You certainly have charming taste in men,” Aria drawls from the front seat, where she sits beside one of said henchmen. Like before, she’s chosen to forgo her mask, her beautiful face tilted upward, as if she’s bathing in the moonlight. The color reflects on her golden hair, so unlike my own mousy brown curls.
“At least I don’t have to rape the men in my life,” I retort angrily.
Aria laughs, though the noise is devoid of any true humor. “Oh, honey. It’s not rape if they’re screaming for more.”
I bite down on my lower lip hard enough to taste blood, trying not to say anything that will get us in trouble.
But seriously, fuck her.
We take a bunch of back roads and weird turns. I realize, after a while, it’s because Aria wants to make sure we aren’t being followed.
I wouldn’t put it past my guys to try something like that.
Landon and Ryker…
Pain pinches my heart, and I feel a strange burn crowd my eyes.
I already miss them terribly. I can’t imagine what they’re going through, what they’re thinking. If the situations were reversed, if they were going off to who the hell knows where with a serial killer, I would do everything within my power to free them. Save them. Hide them away.
But no. They wouldn’t do anything that reckless, right? They have to realize that our best course of action is continuing to allow Aria to believe they’re dead.
Then, abruptly, the road ends.
Nestled beneath the gentle sway of old oak branches is a bungalow, sat like a secret someone once whispered into the earth and then promptly forgot about. Its low, sloping roof, dappled with moss and moonlight, gives the house a sense of being cradled by the land rather than being built upon it. Weathered cedar shingles line the exterior, their silvery-gray hue soft against the vibrant greens of the surrounding garden, where lavender and what appears to be rosemary grow wild around a cobblestone path. The front porch, wrapped in peeling white railings, is wide and welcoming, covered in rocking chairs and bench swings. I spot at least a dozen guards lining the perimeter—the majority of them congregated in a tiny guard tower at the bottom of the driveway, with a few milling near the edge of the forest, as if their job is to patrol that specific area.
“Welcome to my home.” Aria’s voice holds a hint of whispered reverence as the car slows to a stop.
“Why did I expect your evil bitch of a mom to live in a creepy, Gothic mansion in the middle of nowhere?” Zane asks me, making sure to keep his voice high enough for said evil bitch of a mom to overhear.
