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As tempted as I am to burst into the room and rail at them, to pound against Maddoc’s broad chest with my fists as I tell him what a fucking bastard he is, I can’t afford to let my emotions get the better of me this time. Moving carefully and quietly, I retrace my steps down the corridor and then creep back up the stairs, avoiding the step that I’ve learned sometimes squeaks a bit.
It was all a trick. The Reapers fucking used me. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them use my sister too, let alone force her into something.
Or fucking “persuade” her.
My heart is thundering so loudly in my chest as I finally slip into our room that I’m amazed it doesn’t wake Chloe up or bring the Reapers running. Neither happens, though, and for a second, I lean against the door and stare at my sister.
She looks so damn peaceful. So safe and innocent, curled around a pillow with her face relaxed in sleep. None of that is true, though. We’re not safe here and won’t be until we get the fuck away.
Think, Riley. Think.
There’s nothing of value in this room except the clothes Dante brought up for me, but I do know where Maddoc has my phone…. and the money I gave him.
“Fucking bastard,” I hiss through clenched teeth, then press away from the door. Moving quickly and quietly, I pull on some clothes that are a little more practical for running, then slip on the boots I wore earlier. I grab the same type of outfit for my sister before tiptoeing over to stand beside the bed.
“Chloe,” I whisper, shaking her lightly and then covering her mouth when her eyes drift open.
They go wide, but she doesn’t make a sound. She’s smart enough to realize that if I’m waking her up like this, something has gone wrong.
Once I’m sure she’s fully conscious, I take my hand away, leaning even closer to whisper in her ear, “Get up and get changed. We have to leave.”
She nods again and reaches for the clothes I picked out for her, following my lead. My mind races as she dresses quickly, agitation crawling through my veins. We can’t run yet. Maddoc and Dante are still downstairs, and if we try to slip out now, they’ll catch us. As far as they know, I still trust them. They think I’m up here sleeping with Chloe, completely unaware that they have plans for her that they kept secret from me.
We’ll have to wait until they fall asleep. Then we’ll slip out and run for it.
“Where are we going to go?” Chloe whispers, her gaze darting toward the bedroom door.
She’s dressed in the best I could find for her out of what Dante provided. Dark jeans with pockets. Two layers of shirts and a lightweight hoodie that she can pull up over her hair. Industrial-looking ankle boots and a pair of fingerless gloves that are meant for style but might offer a little warmth, a little protection, depending on where the night takes us.
I swallow back my real answer—that I don’t fucking know—and come up with something on the fly.
“I know a guy,” I say, which is only half true. I know a shit-ton of guys. None I’d trust with my sister. None I’d trust to help us get away from the Reapers, or any other gang. But we’ll figure it out once we get out of here.
Chloe chews her lip, uncertainty crossing her face. “We can’t just go back to the apartment?”
I smooth my hand down the back of her hair, shaking my head as I listen with half an ear for any signs of movement in the hallway outside. “No. You know we can’t. Too many people know we live there, and no one can know where we are. We can’t trust these men, Chlo. I was wrong.”
She nods, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie, and she looks so young and lost that it breaks my heart.
Ijustpromised her she was safe. What a fucking liar I was, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.
“Don’t worry,” I whisper. “We’ll take it step by step. First, out of Halston, okay? Then we’ll have a little breathing room to pick which beach you want to head for.”
She nods again, and a knot forms in my stomach.
It was stupid to trust the Reapers. Stupid to let my guard down. And downright reckless to actually believe that these three men cared about me.
Those moments I thought I had with Maddoc, the concern in his eyes when he realized I’d been shot tonight? Lies. Even the things that happened between me and Dante—the painting, the sex, the times when his easy charm made me laugh—were nothing but bullshit.
Because they all knew they were planning to use my sister, and they kept that from me.
I’m not sure how much time passes while we wait, but eventually, I hear the telltale signs of Maddoc and Dante each heading to their bedrooms. Their doors close, and the house goes quiet, but I force myself to wait longer, giving them time to fall asleep. Every minute that passes by feels like torture, and only once I feel confident that enough time has passed do I nod to Chloe.
She nods back, a sharp jerk of her head, and I crack the door open a little and peer outside.Clear.
I ease the door open wider and lead my sister out of the room, moving carefully as we head down the hall.
There’s a step that sometimes creaks on the stairs, and I silently point it out to my sister. She nods and skirts around it, sticking behind me like glue and moving as quietly as a shadow as we make our way downstairs.
