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My gaze shot down to my arms, and I immediately noticed what I’d missed before—the telltale red stain that had seeped through the sleeve of my hoodie.Fuck.
“I don’t…I wanted it to stop.” It was easier to admit it when he wasn’t looking at me.
His shoulders stiffening was the only sign he’d heard me. Closing my eyes, I slumped back against the brick wall.
“There are…safe ways you can hurt, if you’re interested.” Creed spoke cautiously, and when I blinked my eyes open, he was in profile, and his gaze was sliding between me and the wall. “There are options.”
I swallowed hard. “Wh-what options?”
The corner of his lips kicked up. “I enjoy inflicting pain. It can be done in a safe way. Not that I’m saying I would be the one to do it, but I could put you in contact with someone if that was something you were interested in.”
Safe pain? But then I thought about the violence Creed enjoyed inflicting on those who crossed him…fuck…I didn’t want to go down that route. Not with him. It was one thing for me to do this to myself, but that…that was something else entirely.
“What are the other ways?”
“I’m not an expert in this, Z, but I’ll tell you what I think you could try. Tattoos—you know that works for you. Piercings. Working out—going hard until everything else fades away, and you get that high. Fucking girls. Weed, to take the edge off. I know you wouldn’t try anything harder than that, not after—”
He cut himself off, but we both heard his unspoken words.Your mum. Growing up around drug addicts was enough to put me off anything stronger than a joint. It was one line I wouldn’t ever cross, and we both knew it.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” Glancing at his watch, he hummed. “Mack’ll be back soon. His tattoo station’s already set up for me. Wanna get anything done while you’re here?”
His voice was casual, but I knew what he was getting at. I shifted, my gaze dropping to the red stain on my sleeve. Fuck it. Maybe it was worth a try. I already had ink on my arms, so what was one more tattoo?
Pushing off the wall, I gave a single nod. “I might.”
He returned my nod, heading towards the interior door of the garage. When he drew level with me, he met my gaze, his expression serious. “Z. Don’t forget. We’re all at least a little fucked up. And the people that say they aren’t…they’re just kidding themselves.”
* * *
It took a long fucking time to get out of that pitch-black hole, and it was always there at my feet, ready to swallow me again. If it hadn’t been for the rest of the Four and Creed, always there for me, loyal to the end, I didn’t know if I would’ve made it through. There was no magic cure, though. Physical pain was still my default, and my darkness was a permanent stain on my soul. I’d never be fully free, and Fallon, my light, my angel, was gone.
PART TWO
EIGHT MONTHS AGO
“Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged.”
—Samuel Johnson,A Dictionary of the English Language
ONE
Even when I started having more better days than bad, I never stopped thinking about Fallon. Wishing I could’ve done something, anything, to change things. Then Caiden’s now-girlfriend, Winter Huntington, came into our lives, and we discovered just how far her mother, Christine Clifford, would go to take over Alstone Holdings…working with Roland Hyde. That was when I started having recurring dreams about Fallon. Not the nightmares I’d had at the beginning, but dreams that left me so fucking on edge every time I woke. Blonde hair, a teasing smile, her body pressing into mine. Then I’d wake, and she was gone. I had too many fucking reminders of what I’d lost lately, in our efforts to stop Christine and these bastards. Every time Roland or Joseph was mentioned, she was on my mind. I still missed her so fucking much, and time had done nothing to change that.
Standing in the shadows at the side of the van, I methodically checked to make sure my knives were securely attached to my belt. The clifftop ruins of Alstone Castle were visible up ahead, and my body was thrumming with anticipation. Ready to catch Fallon’s dad in the act, to implicate her brother, to bring them down for daring to plot against our families with Christine fucking Clifford. That bitch had played everyone, and we were ending it tonight.
I went back over everything in my mind as we waited for the action to begin. The way everything had gone down was fucking crazy, and even though I’d seen more than my fair share of backstabbing, violence, and illegal shit in my life, I could never have predicted something like this happening. Winter had moved to Alstone to investigate her dad’s death. We had reason enough to be suspicious of her in the beginning—especially because her mother had had an affair with and then married Arlo Cavendish, and despite Winter insisting they were estranged, we only had Winter’s word for it. When it turned out that she had good reason for being here, for her own suspicions regarding Christine, we began to work with her. Somehow, we started to trust her, which was something else I’d never seen coming, and then my best mate had gone and fallen hard for her. When she was taken by members of the Strelichevo crime syndicate—the Belarusian gang that Christine was working with—we were all fucking frantic, and it was then that I realised how important she’d become to us all. She was one of us now. Someone I could call a true friend, and I didn’t have many of those in my life.
When we got her back, we doubled up our investigative efforts. West managed to get into Joseph Hyde’s email account, where we had a breakthrough, discovering the details of this meeting tonight at Alstone Castle—apparently to discuss the final details of Christine’s plan—and we knew that Christine, Roland Hyde, and Joseph Hyde would all be there. Oh, yeah, and Arlo’s fucking butler, Allan, of all people, was involved in the plan.
We’d managed to talk Creed into giving us some help, because there was no fucking way we were going in unprepared. They would have security at the meeting, and the Strelichevos were involved, so we needed to give ourselves as many advantages as possible. Creed needed to stay neutral because the Strelichevos had connections with the Volkovs, who were part of the Russian Bratva and also his business associates—so he couldn’t afford to risk anything that might incur their wrath. But he agreed to help us indirectly, giving us every advantage he could get away with. So we had a van kitted out with the kind of surveillance shit that gave West a hard-on, we had Mack and also Obie—who had grown up on our estate and now worked full-time for Creed—and finally, we had all the equipment we’d hopefully need to bring these fuckers down.
Yanking my balaclava down over my head, I nodded to acknowledge Caiden’s signal. It was time to go. Our objectives were straightforward—get in, get the targets, get out. My first target was up ahead. Melting into the shadows, I came up behind the guard, easily taking him out before he even saw me coming. When his body crumpled to the ground, I jogged back over to Cade. “Guard down,” I murmured.
We’d previously agreed that Cade and West would go after Joseph Hyde, and Cass and I would go after Allan. It was easier for me to stay neutral when it wasn’t a member of Fallon’s family involved, and I needed to stay focused. I fixed my eyes on Allan, waiting for the signal.
The moment the fireworks went off, Cass and I moved towards him. I swore under my breath when he was in our line of sight. He was too fucking central—surrounded by others, including Christine and Roland, along with some of the Strelichevo fuckers. We needed to get him alone.
