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She was never going to have a reason to fear him again.
* * *
The state parkwas almost eerie at nighttime. The only real light came from the moon. Otherwise, the only other lighting was the streetlights over the main office and by the restrooms. This whole thing was almost too easy, but my gut would tell me if anything was off. And so far, I was ninety-nine percent sure we were still in the clear. Ninety-nine because thinking you’re one hundred percent safe led to trouble and mistakes.
The cabin Paul was in was cast in darkness. No doubt, he probably thought he was perfectly safe within the beautiful wooden and stone cabin. But nothing would keep me and the Sons of Hell away from him if we really wanted to get our hands on him.
I motioned to Joey to show I was going in, and he nodded once, quickly flanking my back. Ink silently eased the door open, the hinges not even squeaking as he did so. I crept inside the dark cabin with the moon as my only source of light. My boots were silent as I made my way across the polished hardwood floors.
Paul was passed out on the full-size bed in the corner of the room, spread eagle, his mouth hanging open, which just made my job so much fucking easier. He was sleeping as if monsters like me weren’t sniffing his trail and tracking him as if he were dripping blood everywhere.
I slid my gun into the holster under my cut before quickly gagging him. He choked and snapped his eyes open, but by that point, Ink was already binding his arms together, and Joey already had his ankles bound.
I grinned down at him, knowing I looked slightly manic. And a bit terrifying. “Remember me?” I asked him.
Horror swept through his eyes, and I snickered. I patted his cheek condescendingly. “Cannon sends her best wishes,” I teased him, knowing that beyond being afraid of him, she didn’t give two fucks about him.
Ink and I quickly hefted him off the bed and pulled him through the cabin, ignoring the pitiful noises he was trying to make behind the bandana I had in his mouth. Vern pulled open the back doors to the van, and we tossed him in, quickly closing it back. Vern rolled his neck around, looking at me. “He left his keys in the car—probably for a quick getaway if he needed one. What do you want to do with it?”
I looked at Joey. He shrugged but then frowned at me when my lips curved up into a smirk. No doubt he was wondering what the fuck I had going through my head.
“He put Cannon in a car and made her crash it, right? Fucking almost killed her?” Joey nodded, his eyes widening the slightest bit when he caught on to what I was saying. Then, he began to snicker. Vern grinned, a sadistic tilt of his lips, as he pulled an unopened single pack of black, latex gloves from the inside of his cut. Then, he tugged a beanie low on his head.
“I’ll be following,” he told us with a nod before heading in the direction of the silver Benz parked on the drive, the hood of the car pointed toward the road that led out of the park.
Lot of good his planned little getaway did him. Fucker didn’t even hear us coming.
I slid into the passenger seat of the van, letting Ink have the driver’s seat, while Joey piled into Alejandro’s SUV with Alejandro. “Alejandro did a sweep of the cabin,” Ink said, both of us ignoring the whining, crying weasel in the back of the van. “No phones. No clothes. Pretty sure he was only grabbing out what he needed and putting it back right when he was done.”
“Lot of fucking good any of that planning did him,” I grunted.
Ink chuckled. “I agree.” He nodded at my phone when it lit up with a call. “I think someone is awake.”
I quickly grabbed it, smiling at the sight of Cannon’s name on my phone. I quickly answered her call, bringing the phone to my ear. “Hey, baby,” I greeted.
“Where are you?” she sleepily asked. I made a non-committal sound in the back of my throat, and she heaved a heavy, tired sigh. “Right,” she mumbled. “Club shit.”
Wanting to distract her from worrying, which I knew she would now be doing, I quickly changed the subject to something she would probably find outrageous, but I certainly didn’t. Helena appeared in the backseat when I turned to glance toward where Paul was still grunting and moaning, and I blinked in surprise at her. She was so grainy and transparent, it was almost like she wasn’t there.
“How do you feel about marriage?” I rasped. Ink choked and ended up jerking the wheel a little before righting the van again. I chuckled.
She snorted. “It’s the middle of the night, Whiler, which means I’m not fit to answer this kind of question. And I’m already married, remember? My husband is a psychopath.”
“If you managed to become unmarried,” I tried again, watching as my sister’s apparition began to fade, bringing tears to my eyes because I knew this was the end of her on Earth, “would you marry me?”
Cannon’s breath caught in her throat all while Helena smiled at me and blew me a kiss before disappearing. A ragged breath left my lips, and Ink glanced at me, blinking at the tears in my eyes before focusing back on the road. I continued staring at the same spot Helena was just sitting in.
“Yeah,” Cannon finally said softly, “I would, Whiler.”
I cleared my throat. “Really?” I croaked, not having expected that answer. Because in a lot of ways, I wasn’t much better than her asshole husband.
“Yeah,” she said again. “Really. Everything in me tells me you’re not him. You’re not Paul. I can trust you.”
“Damn right you can, baby. Always.” I glanced up when Ink began to slow down, turning onto a windey, sandy, dirt road. “I’ve got to go. But I’ll be home as soon as possible, you hear me? And then, I’m putting that fucking ring on your finger.”
“Not while I’m still married, Whiler. I won’t do that to you. It’s not fair.”
I grinned. “You won’t be married when I come home,” I promised. Then, before she could get another word in, I hung up the phone, dropping it back into the cupholder.
