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This is for the best. It has to be.
Seb nods in sad, reluctant understanding. “So, we meant nothing to you?”
“I’m a killer,” I remind him. “My job was all that mattered. I worked for the Killers Club because I liked it. I enjoy making people hurt and suffer. It’s what I live for.”
He shakes his head and whispers, “I don’t believe you.”
A sizzle of electricity jumps between us as his eyes meet mine, looking at me like he’s trying to see into the depths of my soul. I tear my eyes away, afraid he’ll see the truth. I did care about them, but people like me don’t get happy endings.
“I know you better than you know yourself,” he continues. “I can read your body language.” The psychoanalysing fucker. “You’re trying to hide it, but I think you cared about us, otherwise you’d never have got into the van. I saw how you reacted when Bram got shot. You can’t fake a reaction like that.”
“I was in shock,” I dismiss, then channel my inner bitch to navigate our conversation into less stormy, painful waters. “Why don’t you stop wasting time and kill me already? We all know that’s what you’ll do sooner or later.”
He steps back like I slapped him. “The Dukes protect people.”
“You’re killers, too,” I say. “If this situation was reversed, I’d kill you. You know I would.”
“I’ll see you soon, Ivy,” he replies sadly.
He pauses before he rounds the corner, turning back like he wants to say more, but changes his mind and disappears.
CHAPTER 12
BRAM
My retinas burn from the bright light, and it’s a real strain to open my eyelids. After being held in a gloomy cell for weeks, natural light is kind of a novelty. It’s strange to be lying on a mattress with comfortable sheets after becoming accustomed to a concrete floor.
Snoring comes from the chair next to me, and I crack a smile at seeing Seb’s sleeping figure. The Dukes came to get me like I hoped they would.
I don’t recognise the room we’re in. The deep green wallpaper is faded and old-fashioned, and mismatched chairs are dotted around the bed. Perhaps Seb owns another house that I wasn’t aware of.
I wince as I use all my strength to sit upright, being careful not to tug on the drip feeding into my arm. My shoulder aches, making every breath painful.
My ruffling sheets cause Seb to stir, and he mumbles something incomprehensible before one of his eyes opens. When he sees me staring back at him, he jumps up like he’s been struck by lightning. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s made me late by sleeping through his alarm, so maybe I should lose consciousness more often to get him out of bed on time.
“You’re awake,” Seb says, stating the obvious. “Can you hear me?”
I tilt my head in a micro-nod. That’s the best he’ll get, but Seb understands me.
“I need to tell the others.” His face lights up as he picks up a phone and sends a quick message. “You scared us, man.”
My expression stays neutral. My memories of being rescued are hazy. I remember being happy to see them, running, and the gun firing.
“Freddie and Cal will be here soon,” Seb says, then holds his phone out for me to take. “Do you want to say anything?”
I nod, and he puts it into my hands with the text-to-speech app already waiting. I fumble as I type. Stupid tiny buttons. Why can’t phones have keys big enough for my fingers? That’s why I prefer keyboards.
“Where is she?” I make the female robot voice ask in an Australian accent. Seb likes to mess around with the machine voices, but now isn’t the time for comedy.
“She’s…”
Before he finishes his sentence, Freddie bursts through the door. “How is he?”
I grunt, indicating that I’m here and capable of answering questions myself, which makes Freddie grin. His eyes are bloodshot, like he’s been awake for hours.
Seb cracks a relieved smile, a tightness leaving his shoulders. “He’s good.”
A few minutes later, Callen saunters in wearing a silky robe. I grimace at the outline of his swaying cock from beneath the flowing fabric. That’s not a sight I wanted to wake up to.
