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“Soren admired you for surviving his abuse?” I ask.
“Maybe, begrudgingly, yes. But more so because he knew how much it hurt me deeply to witness their evil. When I think about it, part of me wonders if he never truly let go in my presence and killed me like he has so many other women because he wanted to see if I would break on the next celebration night. It’s become a game to him. Physically he’d broken me over and over, but mentally…”
“You survived,” I whisper.
“Somehow.”
“Okay,” I nod, forcing myself not to tear up at her story, and instead focus on the plan. “I’m going to put the poison in their drink.”
“No.I’llput it in their drink.”
“Faith, no. Absolutely not,” I reply, shaking my head. “You’re going to stay in here, with the door barricaded. You’re not going to be anywhere near thecelebration.”
I spit the last word out, hating the fact Soren’s using it to describe a night of violence and abuse against women.
Faith reaches for me. “Listen, I can do this. It’s been my job to pour wine for the brotherhood these last few years on celebration night. One more time won’t make a difference. Besides, I have to be there, whether I want to be or not.”
“You’re not strong enough,” I say, shaking my head. “No, Faith.”
“I’m stronger than I’ve been in weeks, months even, thanks to you,” she replies, taking my hand in hers.
I huff out a breath, my gaze falling to the bruises and sores still littering her body. “It’s only been a couple of days,” I say.
“I don’t mean physically, though I do feel a lot better,” she adds quickly. “I mean here, and here.”
Lifting her hand she places it over her heart and then against her temple. “I need to be there when it happens. I need to see them suffer. I need to seehimsuffer. Even if that’s the last thing I do.”
“It’s too risky,” I counter. “Just tell me how I can get it into their drink.”
“It has to be me. It’s the only way, Cynthia,” she implores, handing me back the vial so that I can hide it back in the cistern until it’s ready to use.
Deep down, I know she’s right.
13
Arden
Using the buyer’s body as a shield, I duck as bullets whizz past my head, some exploding into the brickwork behind me, whilst the majority find their resting place in the man’s meaty flesh, slashed open like a pinata exploded into a million pieces. Jakub, Leon, Beast and Lorcan attack quickly and methodically, loading lead into the men with precision. The soft putt-putt of silenced bullets cut through flesh and bone as grunts and sharp cries of pain are instantly muffled with fatal shots. Each man is cut down, until all but one remains standing. Shoving the dead man off of me, I step over his bullet riddled body and pick my way through the carnage.
They didn’t stand a chance.
Lifting my gun, I press the butt against the remaining man’s head. “Arms up!” I yell.
He raises his arms, blood spilling from a bullet hole that’s ripped through his upper arm, leaving a fleshy wound and a nasty hole.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asks.
“Never mind who we are,” I reply, as Beast, Lorcan, Jakub and Leon step out of their hiding places and further into the room now that there’s no danger of them getting shot. Behind them, Carrick and Konrad re-enter the cafe from the back entrance.
“Karim’s man is waiting with the van,” Carrick says, his eyes quickly assessing us for injuries. Satisfied that we’re all still intact, he focuses back on me.
“And the bodies?” I ask, glancing down at the dead men.
“Clean up crew are all ready to move in, and dispose of the bodies,” Carrick replies, cutting a look to the only man left standing. “We need to move, now.”
“Then let’s go,” I agree, grabbing the man’s collar so he can’t make a run for it, and shoving the gun into the back of his head so he knows that if he makes one false move, he’s dead.
“There’s something else,” Carrick says, looking from me to Lorcan.
