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“Storee, let’s talk this out.”
“You fucking stole what wasn’t yours. You took what you thought you could have. But you can’t have me! You can’t fucking have me!”
I looked at Locke as he stood there motionless, clearly stunned. He didn’t move. He didn’t say anything.
I felt my chest tighten as I thought about the attacks in the forest.
The bone stag mask.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t think at all.
“It killed me when I found out you wanted to be part of The Hunt,” he began in his cool and even tone. “I tried to stop you. I tried to stop me.”
“What was I? Some fucking possession to you?” I screamed. “Did you think this was fun? Did you sit around the table with your friends and laugh about me? That I was too stupid to know? Young, naive Storee. Just a little girl who needed to be taught a lesson of what happens when she wants to play with the adults.”
“You know I didn’t.”
“I don’t know anything about you anymore! I don’t think I know you at all!”
I grabbed my clothing from the floor and ran out of Locke’s bedroom.
I wiped away the tears as I ran outside and into the dark night. My head was spinning. My heart was racing. I was in pain. So much fucking pain.
I ran and I ran.
Just like the nights of The Hunt.
I ran.
But this time, I knew he wasn’t chasing me.
Chapter 31
Locke
A bullet through the man’s skull was the only answer, and I was surprised—no, disappointed—at myself for just now coming to the conclusion on how to handle Gabriel’s death.
Out of all my business partners, I wouldn’t consider myself the violent one. Maybe unhinged at times, but definitely not violent. My mind, my connections, and my name alone were usually all I ever needed to have people fear me enough to not mess with me. But this deep ache in my gut wasn’t going to go away until I knew vengeance had been met.
I took a deep breath and leaned back in my chair, staring blankly at the wall in front of me. Braken had sent a text letting me know he had news and was on his way to The Vault to tell me in person. I didn’t need to know any more than that he was coming with a name.
The name of the dead man walking.
I reached for the bottle of scotch on my desk and poured myself a glass, taking a long sip as I tried to focus on the task at hand and not on Storee. Not on the way her eyes had looked at me as she’d stormed out of my house a week ago. I didn’t want to picture the way her lip quivered as she tried not to cry. I didn’twant to think about how I had destroyed the only good thing I had in my life.
The least I could do was avenge her father’s death.
I took another sip of scotch, my thoughts turning to the future. Once I had the name of Gabriel’s killer, I would make him pay. I would hunt him down, and I would make him suffer. I would take away everything he held dear, just as he had taken away everything Storee had held dear.
It was the least I could do for upsetting her the way I did. I was trying so desperately to hide the monster I was from her. But it was inevitable that she’d eventually discover the beast inside.
And she had.
There was nothing to hide anymore. Nothing at all.
Braken marched into the office, his face a mask of stoicism as always. He shut the door behind him, took out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me without a word. I took the paper from him and saw a name written in bold letters: “Valentino DeMarco.”
I looked up at Braken with a raised eyebrow, silently asking him if this was a joke. He shook his head, and I knew he was serious.
