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“Only because you knew I was your only chance of getting out alive,” she hisses. “At least the Killers Club don’t pretend to be people they’re not. They’re cold-blooded, ruthless killers. Youlike to pretend the Dukes protect people and make a difference, but you help to keep monsters alive.”
“You know nothing.”
“You worked with Spencer Bexley!” Her voice rises a few octaves, bordering on hysterical. She isn’t trying to rile me now. She’s hurt. Really hurt. “You protected him, and you know what he did to me!”
“Instead of bringing you here, maybe we should have given you back to him and let him finish what he started.”
As the words come out of my mouth, I regret them instantly.
Ivy’s demeanour changes in a flash.
Her shoulders slump, and her entire body seems to concave in on itself as if I’m watching her resolve shatter into a thousand pieces. Fuck. My steely determination to keep the feelings I had for her under wraps vanishes. I see the only woman I’ve had true feelings for in pain, and I want to make it stop. I want to wrap my arms around her, tell her to close her eyes, and kiss her eyelids to stop her tears from falling. Instead, I do nothing.
Then, just when I’m sure I’ve broken her, a furious fire ignites in her irises. She lunges and strikes me hard across the face.
CHAPTER 23
IVY
Istep away, watching Freddie’s head jerk to the right in slow-motion with a grin of satisfaction. He staggers backwards. Good fucking riddance. He should be grateful I didn't snap his neck, too.
Since we’ve met, it’s the first time that I’ve ever had the urge to kill him. I could make his death fast. Fast enough that Seb wouldn’t hear a thing. My red handprint blooms over his cheek, and his eyes widen. Instead of being mad, he’s stunned.
“What’s wrong, Freddie?” I narrow my eyes. “Not used to being hit by a girl?”
Despite our history, I never expected Freddie to stoop so low. He crossed a fucking line.
His stare locks on mine. “Ivy—”
“You should not have said that,” I say, turning away from him so fast that I whip him with my hair.
He grabs my shoulder firmly and spins me around.Stay calm, Ive.When I look back again, his eyes are filled with pity. A look I hate more than anything else.
“I know,” he says. “I’m s—”
It’s too late to apologise. He’s already said it. He can’t take it back now. The damage is done.
“Fuck you,” I sneer.
Freddie’s nostrils flare as he internally battles about what to do next. He wants to keep his macho bravado to assert his dominance, especially if there’s a likelihood his men are prowling around. Yet, he knows he’s gone too far.
My knuckles turn a stark white as I clench my fists. My fingernails dig into my palms so hard that they almost draw blood. Controlling murderous urges is hard work when slitting throats has been my answer to everything for the last five years.
“I thought you wanted to ask me real questions,” I continue. “Or maybe you should save yourself the bother of interrogating me and deliver me to Spencer. At least that way,Ican finish whatIstarted.”
“What do you mean? Finish what you started?” he asks sharply.
“I joined the Killers Club to make Spencer and his men pay for what they did,” I explain. There’s no point in hiding it now; it changes nothing. He’s probably already worked it out, anyway. “Alaric promised that he’d make me strong and that if I worked for him, I could work through my hit list. When I first joined the club, I killed random marks. I learned the best torture methods and ways to make people scream. They gave me names, and I killed them. No questions asked.”
Freddie stays rooted to the spot, hanging onto my every word.
“For years, I waited for Alaric’s permission to kill the men who did this to me,” I say. “I wanted to kill all the men who hurt my sister and save Spencer for the end. I was so close to completing my list. If you and the Dukes hadn’t distracted me, they’d all be dead by now.”
“Anthony Steel and Graham Baldwin,” Freddie murmurs, putting the pieces together. Hearing their names makes me want to gag. “But what about Doyle? He died when you were with us.”
“His death was a distraction to keep my cover.” I wave my hand dismissively. “Doyle wasn’t on my list. He wasn’t there the night Daisy died, but he’s done shady shit over the years, so it’s no loss.”
“How many more names were on your list?” Freddie asks.
