Page 150 of Where Sinners Repent

Her voice draws the attention of the men, and they stand in an instant, facing me. Griff’s eyes dip to the blood that still coats my fingers, and he drops his cards on the table. Turning into the perfect soldier before my eyes.

“No, Maddison. Ash is not okay,” I murmur, turning to her. “They have him.”

Maddison covers her mouth as a sob tears free. Her body folds forward before she catches herself against the edge of the table. Matt catches her, holding her as she falls apart.

“Who has him?” she chokes out. “Is he alive?”

I feel bad for the girl. But I don’t have time for reassurances that I don’t believe. Chances are he’s dead. Chances are, they are all fucking dead.

I turn to Matt. “Call every Devil and get them here. Right. Fucking. Now. Call the Garage. Call every motherfucker who’s still on our side and tell them we’re at war. Out fucking president has been captured.”

And my brother. And my heart.

Chapter 37

Kaleb

Asteady pulse beats behind my eyes, each throb sending another wave of nausea rolling through my stomach. Heavy and sore, my head hangs forward, chin resting against my chest.

Prying my eyes open, the concrete floor beneath my boots shifts in and out of focus. I blink, the entire room spinning.

The scent hits me first. Rotting fucking fish and brine. I swallow the need to empty my stomach all over the stained concrete floor. Saliva fills my mouth, and I gag anyway.

The fluorescent lights flickers, and a migraine blooms behind my eyes. The room glows green, before plunging into darkness. Revealing fragmented pieces of wherever the fuck I am.

I already know.

If I had one guess, it’d be the freezer. The old seafood port and the Kavanagh safe house.

Couldn’t they have picked literally anywhere else? Somewhere that doesn’t stink like old fish. Fuck, the fucking smell...

Forcing my heavy eyes to look around again, it’s the perfect place. A drain in the centre of the room. Stained concrete walls, boxing whatever nightmares happen here. Middle of nowhere. It’s perfect.

Almost as perfect as me and Kai’s version.

Ash is waking up next to me, slumped against the wall with his arms bent painfully behind his back, like the rest of us. My hands have gone numb from the ties, fingers uselessly hanging.

Xavier groans, cursing under his breath as he looks around. Leon is still knocked out, body slumped in an unnatural position, a bruise blooming around his eye.

If it weren’t for the soft rise and fall of his chest, I’d think he was dead.

“Someone tell me how the fuck that just happened,” Ash murmurs.

When I turn my heavy head to face him, murder gleams in his blue eyes. He’s probably thinking what I’m thinking. About the people back home and whether they’ve been hurt. Or worse.

We left Roxy upstairs, thinking it was the safest place for her to rest. Just left her, vulnerable and defenceless to whoever might find her. The thought makes me sick.

She has Kai, though. At least there is that.

Because if my senses are right, and this room is for the art of pain, then I’m fucking grateful Kai isn’t here. For once in my life, I’m thankful that my brother isn’t beside me.

I can take whatever they decide to do to me. They can kill me for all they want.

But having to watch Kai get tortured again is something I wouldn’t survive. I’d rather they gut me like a pig in this forsaken place then fail my brother.

Again.

“How the fuck did they get in?” Xavier growls.