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“And now?”
“Now…” Drawing level with a tiny pad on the wall, he widened his eyes, allowing the scanner to work its magic. Opening another door, he swept his arm out. “Now, this is where I play.”
Bloodstains arced across the floor, the pattern suggesting a spray, probably from a throat being slit. Creed followed my line of sight, shaking his head. “They should’ve cleaned up in here.”
“Who was it?”
I hadn’t expected an answer, but he gave me one anyway. “Remember how everything went down with Petr Ivanov? The Volkovs might have pulled in one or two of their London-based associates to make sure there were no more leaks in their syndicate. I was more than happy to offer the use of my facilities.”
My jaw clenched as I remembered how Petr Ivanov had fucked with Cassius’ girlfriend, Jessa. If he hadn’t been dead before I could get to him, I would’ve killed him myself.
“We would’ve ended him whatever happened.”
Intuitive as ever, Creed briefly clasped my shoulder, a fleeting touch. “I know.”
We nodded at each other, and he dropped his hand.
“Zayde.” Creed propped himself up against a long, low table with various instruments of torture laid out on the surface and glinting in the dim lighting of the overhead bulb. “I brought you down here to show you that I consider you someone I can trust. I hope you can extend the same trust to me.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my hand over my face. It was so fucking hard to open up to anyone. It went against everything I’d trained myself to do. Blowing out a heavy breath, I spoke through gritted teeth. “The reason I’m here is because I need a favour. The Hyde girl. She…” Fuck. I couldn’t get the words out.
“Hyde.” His brows pulled together as he tapped on the metal surface of the table. “The one that had to be shipped off to the facility?”
I nodded jerkily, and he inhaled sharply. “That reminds me. Something I was going to call you about today. I’ve been given the details of Roland Hyde’s sentence, if you want them. He’s finally been charged, and it’s about fucking time. Six counts of fraud, embezzlement, and some other minor shit that all added together should ensure he’s locked up for a long time. They’ve frozen his business assets, too. There’s a good chance he’ll lose it all.”
“I heard. Cade told me—his dad told him.”
“Thought he might, but I wanted to be sure. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to appeal his sentencing again to get the term reduced. I hate to say it, but that bastard has connections, and he’s one slimy fucker. I’ll keep an eye on the situation, though, and I’ll let you know if and when I hear anything.”
Fucker. “If he gets out, he’d better watch his back, or he’ll be buried six feet under before he knows it.”
Creed grinned, his psycho smile making an appearance.
“Creepy fucker,” I muttered, which only made his smile widen. “Forget about Hyde Senior for a minute. The girl—”
“You want me to find out what’s happened to her?” he interjected. “Consider it done.”
“She was…” I stumbled over my fucking words. How could I explain the heavy weight of guilt that was a constant millstone around my neck? But fuck it. Creed wasn’t someone to get personally involved in shit. Even if you were a friend of his. Yeah, he’d help out if and when he could, and he did what he could to tip the scales in your favour. But business was his number one priority, and he was good at playing people off against each other. So maybe he was someone neutral I could speak to about this. “This goes no further,” I said.
“You know it won’t.”
“We were together for a while. The night…the night Tim, her brother, died…I was arguing with him…and I…and I…” Fucking fuck. I couldn’t finish the sentence. Spinning away from Creed, I clenched my jaw so tight that my teeth were grinding painfully against each other. I couldn’t lose control. Not now.
A hand came down on my shoulder. Creed’s voice was completely neutral, which I appreciated more than anything because I was so fucking close to losing it. “Z. No need to say any more. Consider it done. I’ll find out everything I can, and I’ll have it to you within a few days. No favour in return, not for this.”
My eyes fell shut as I bowed my head, slumping back against the table. The instruments rattled, clinking together. Blindly feeling next to me, I picked up a slim, metallic object. It had some weight to it.
Opening my eyes, I took in the handle I was grasping, my gaze rising to the curve of the blade of the santoku knife. The hardened steel shone brightly as I curved my fingers more tightly around the handle, bringing the knife up to my arm.
It felt like I was outside of my body, watching as I tugged my sleeve up, turning my arm so my inner wrist was exposed. Then everything came back into immediate focus when I placed the point of the knife to my wrist and pressed down.
There was a sharp, familiar burst of pain, and I sighed with relief, dragging the knife across my tattooed and scarred skin, blood bubbling up in its wake. For a moment, all my problems disappeared, and the agony was all that remained. My mind was empty and quiet, my world narrowed down to this one perfectly still moment.
A moment of agony and ecstasy.
“Z.” Creed’s hand closed around mine. “I know there’s no cure, and you’re allowed to have good and bad days. But remember that you have other ways to deal with this.”
Fuck.
