Page 54 of Heist in Paradise

Right. I nodded robotically.

Jax inhaled sharply behind me. Ryle’s eyes flickered to him, then his brow furrowed, and he looked concerned. He always seemed to look like that when it came to Jax.

I turned to the door. “Show me.”

Ryle hesitated, still watching Jax. “I—are you sure?”

“I need to know if Molly is on them.”

“You can’t unsee that.”

“I know.”

After a moment, Jax nodded at Ryle, but seemed determined to stay in the room. His cold blue gaze was fixed on Kane. He was going to kill him, probably the moment I stepped out of the room. I searched my feelings, but they were a confusing tangle, too confusing to unravel. Did I care? Should I care?

Thankfully, Ryle took the lead, so I followed him dazedly out of the room. A last glance over my shoulder saw Jax cracking his knuckles, and the white flash of panic on the soon-to-be dead man’s face.

JAX

“What are we thinking?” Madoc mused as he stalked like a feline around the bed. “Kill him here or in one of his little torture rooms?”

Kane whimpered and twitched against Callum’s hold. He still had some fight in him, and it excited me. I was one sick puppy.

Distantly, I knew that I was losing touch with reality, becoming mindless with rage and violence. Seeing Olivia on that bed, her face pale and withdrawn, looking far too fucking vulnerable, made me see red. I was still seeing red; the blood on Kane’s face, on my knuckles, on the tip of Madoc’s (Olivia’s) blade. Even the sheets on the bed were silky crimson, a bed of blood.

Pressing the heel of my hand hard into my forehead, I steered myself back to sanity. “You find anything else?” I asked.

“Found the stash.” Madoc revealed two glass vials from his pocket. He dropped them on the bed beside Kane, who flinched away from them like live grenades. My eyes met Madoc’s, our thoughts syncing in the way they sometimes did.

His answering smile was slow and deadly. “I’ll find a syringe.”

With him gone, I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and gave Callum a quick once-over. My stoic giant was unflappable as always, his hands steady where they locked around Kane’s naked body. Like all of us, Callum had his own demons, but he managed to keep his shit together. I knew when we returned home, he’d lock himself away in his library to escape his rancid memories. I tried it once—desperate times and all—but my head was too loud, and only keeping my hands busy kept the bad thoughts away.

Kane withered on the bed, then went very still when I loomed over him. “How many girls, Kane?”

His lip trembled. “I—I don’t—I didn’t want—”

I backhanded him, his jaw clicking shut in the most satisfying way. The sound of his pathetic pleading was grating on my nerves. “Answer the question, moron.”

“I-I didn’t k-keep count. I’m not like that.”

My anger spiked. “You’re just the victim here, right? You had no choice but to lure in those girls.”

“I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Too little too late.”

Footsteps crept up behind me, then the faintest brush of fingers across my lower back. Madoc knew I hated being snuck up on, and he was the master of it. I appreciated his warning, even though I still stiffened at the contact.

“Found one.” Madoc held up a clearly used syringe. The tip was rusted, all nasty and shit. Perfect. “It was under one of the beds. Should we have a go?”

Kane balked in distress. “Oh god, please, man, no.”

“Hush.” Madoc picked up a vial and filled the syringe. He handled the drug expertly, as if he’d done it a thousand times. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was. I definitely shouldn’t be popping another boner over it.

You’re so fucked up, cap.

I wrenched my eyes to the far wall, trying to redirect the blood flow to my brain and not my traitorous dick. It was clearly just punishing me for earlier. I told myself it was a bad case of blue balls and that was why I was reacting to everything. Fuck, a light breeze would probably set me off.