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“Oh, yeah, baby. He’s so my type.”
We laughed, settling into that sweet mood again.
“I’ll share you with anyone who makes you happy because I was first. You met me first. Fell for me first. And out of all of them, you’ll marry me first. You’ll wear my ring, own my last name, and carry my babies. I can share you, Luna, ’cause no matter what happens, I win.”
Smiling, I kissed him. “Just knowing you feel that way is good enough for me... for now. Once I destroy the Royal line and bring the system crumbling at my feet—status won’t matter anymore. I’ll have all my men where and how I want them.”
“Uh, run that by me again? Destroy the Royal line?”
I nuzzled his nose. “Oh, future husband, we have so much to talk about.”
RAFAEL PACED THE LENGTH of the carpet. It was just me, him, and Victor in the living room. Lucien and Cato went to get Wesley.
“You’re telling me that shit Wesley attacked you, and you called for Wilder and he didn’t answer?” Rage lived beneath his skin.
“No, he didn’t. And that’s how I know he isn’t in that room or in the house at all. Wilder would never abandon me when I needed him. Something happened, Rafael. We need to find out what and we need to do it soon.”
Lucien and Cato dragged in a bleeding, whimpering mess.
“Right after we finish this.”
Rafael scanned Wesley’s face. “I see you started the party without us.”
“Then we stopped because we weren’t getting anywhere. If knocking out his teeth and burning his face won’t work, what will?”
“N-nothing will...” Wesley lifted his head, and spat blood at my feet. “I’ll never talk.”
Rafael kicked him in the chest without a break in expression. “I don’t like your tone when addressing my lady. I’d watch that. My next kick will jam the cartilage from that broken nose in your brain.”
“Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” he screeched, unraveling before my eyes. “You can’t do this to me! I’ll ruin you!”
Rafael turned his back, ignoring him. “I know how to end this if you’re cool with me taking over, gorgeous.”
“Yeah, absolutely. All I care about is finding the Phantom.”
“Then we need to move him.” Rafael moved to the window and shifted the blackout curtains. “And you need to go, Wilson. Unless you made a change.”
Victor and Rafael shared a look I didn’t understand.
“I’ll go,” Victor said. “But you better finish it. For her.”
“I will.”
I didn’t know what we were doing or where we were going. But I trusted Rafael.
Lucien got the biggest suitcase he could find, and stuffed Wesley bound, gagged, and raging inside. I felt all eyes on me while we wheeled him through campus to Rafael’s car. It was just him, me, and Cato. Lucien stayed behind to clean up the blood and all traces that Wesley was ever there.
I didn’t breathe again until he was safely in the trunk and we were pulling out of campus.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a spot near the Bluffs where no one goes. We’ll have privacy to do what we need to do.”
I almost asked what we needed to do. Wesley wasn’t the only thing we put in the trunk. Rafael also tossed in a backpack, and it wasn’t Cato’s pack of fire-starters. He had that on his lap.
“If only the bastard waited until we got to him on Wednesday,” Rafael said. “I might’ve been tempted to go easier on him. Too bad he put his hands on you.”
It was too bad for Wesley. I heard Rafael speak in this tone once before when he talked about his father. Whatever the plan was now, it had nothing resembling restraint.
We were a silent crew, driving through the winding, tree-lined streets of Regalia. Twenty minutes in, Cato decided we were going to make out in the backseat. He buckled and carried me over, pouncing with his usual confidence. Even so, there was a subduedness to our passionate, nipping kisses. By the end of that day, it would be finished. We’d know who the Phantom is, and a new war would begin.
Rafael suddenly slowed down and pulled off the road. “It’s just through there,” he said. “Five minutes of walking.”
He got out, hefted a kicking suitcase from the trunk, and hitched the backpack up his shoulder. Together, we tromped through the trees until they began to open up.
I didn’t recognize the spot in particular, but I placed us about a mile away from Giovanni’s beach house where Annika went over. The beach below us was rocky and the tree above grew in thick and tall, blocking the sun. Neither made it a good spot for beach-going or sunbathing. No one but us had a reason to come out there.
Rafael brought the suitcase to a clearing near the edge of the Bluffs. The red-faced fury of the guy who came out of that blue Samsonite called me to feel something.
