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I fight the urge to look behind me, feeling Gray’s eyes bore into me. He’s angry, and I get it. I broke the plan and went solo. While the plan was always for me to lure Rusty here by calling him and pretending to hand myself over, I wasn’t meant to make the call without Gray at my side.
That part of the plan was unspoken, but it was the only part that didn’t need to be verbalized. With the way we’vebeen clinging together, it was a fair assumption. One that I was all too aware of. That’s why I waited until he was in the bathroom before I went downstairs.
I decidedly and willingly abused his trust. I own that, and I regret nothing. It was the way it had to be done.
The wind kicks up, and if it wasn’t for the black hood on my hoodie pulled over my head, the strands would whip wildly around my face. Though I long to tie my hair, I resist the urge and let it fly free.
My head is down turned, hopefully shadowed enough that the darkness clouds my features. It’s vital to the next part of the plan. It’s not merely the plan the Kings came up with. No, that one is good, but it lacked something. But with the help of my Cunts, I dare say it’s close to perfection.
Yet another thing Gray doesn’t know about. But he will soon enough.
I think back on the unhappy look on the Cruz Cunts faces when I called Rusty early. I know they’re onboard with the plan, hell they begged for it, even contacted Cain to get his help. So that’s not what they were disagreeing with. If we’d had more time, I would have asked, but I couldn’t risk waiting any longer, so I didn’t. Though I’m pretty sure the Cunts were mostly conflicted because I snuck away from Gray to call Rusty instead of doing it with him.
The Cruz Cunts might be mine to command, love, and protect. But their respect for their Prez runs deep. And I think that’s part of why I’m proud to be their Mama. I want Gray to be surrounded by people he can trust. And as for me, I don’t want blind obedience.
Even if I don’t listen to them, I want them to challenge me and speak up when they feel it’s needed. That’s the only way we won’t end up with a similar situation on our hands. One where a member turns on the rest and terrorizes the women he’s meant to protect.
I turn my head from side to side, looking at the barren landscape on either side of me. This is the place where the Devil’s Night Brawl took place, so it’s almost biblical to be back here with an ambushwaiting at my back.
Gray and Slasher weren’t surprised when Rusty chose this place, and I guess I shouldn’t have been either. He’s a scavenger, after all, and I guess this is his metaphorical den. A place filled with decomposing horrors.
Fuck, we should burn it to the ground. Erase every trace of the Reapers as a favor to the future owners, so they can restore the land, bringing it back to a thing of beauty.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulls me from my inner musings, and I slowly cock my head to the side they’re coming from. If I’m not mistaken, there are only four sets, each hitting the ground in perfect synchrony.
I silently send a thank you to Cara for thinking of everything. Part of her training was to cast the room in darkness and blindfold me, then moving around, demanding I pinpointed her exact location only through listening. Occasionally, she’d bring more people in, making me sort through the sounds and know—not guess—how many people were circling me.
“Sugar, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” Even without the use of the disgusting pet name, I’d recognize Gunner’s throaty rasp anywhere. “My dick’s been missing you. Are you ready to bleed on it?”
Standing completely still, I fight the urge to recoil from his words. I don’t reply or give any visible sign I’m even listening. On the outside, I’m completely still, but on the inside, I’m a mess. All of a sudden, I’m thinking of things I didn’t even consider until now.
Like, what if Cain changed his mind? Shit… yes, what if he decided to take the Cunts back to Dirty Diamonds as Gray had originally planned, instead of doing what the Cunts asked for? Or what if the Cunts aren’t here yet? What if something—anything—went wrong?
Since I arrived with the Kings, I know they’re all waiting at my back, hiding in the shadows. But the Cunts… that’s all up in the air. Since the Kings don’t know what we planned, the women needed to wait on the other side and only move closer once Rusty showed up.
“Aww, there she is,” Irina coos. “I’ve missed you, Zoe. You and me are going to have so much fun being roommates. I might even ask Gunner if you can sleep in my bed every now and then since your dad isn’t around to keep it warm anymore.”
I clench my fists so tight at my sides that my nails break the skin, warm blood pebbling to the surface.
Fuck, I no longer feel so good about this. What the hell were we thinking? No, I can’t doubt them now. Gray confirmed Dante’s men saw Cain pick them up.
I inhale sharply, reminding myself I need to stay calm. Cain would have found a way to alert me or Gray if something went wrong. I have to believe that.
The clearing becomes dark as clouds momentarily cover the rays of the moon, and I use the nature given opportunity to reach into the pocket on my hoodie and tap the phone I’ve hidden.
“Irina,” I say.
Only, it’s not in my voice. Thanks to the app suggested by Cain, it’s distorted much in the same way the Reapers did to me when they chased me on Devil’s Night.
Leaves rustle and branches crack on the ground as a group of women join us. My voice echoes from each of their directions. Every one of them is dressed like me; wearing black sneakers, black yoga pants, and a black hoodie with the hood pulled over their face, only showing off the blonde strands peeking out at the sides.
“What is this?” Rusty growls, spinning around as the women form a circle around them.
I chew on the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling. Fuck, the Cunts are perfect.
“One, two,” I sing-song. “We’ve come for you.”
Gunner’s and Irina’s heads dart from side-to-side, then all three of them spin around. It’s like a deadly version of finding Waldo, except it’s Zoe they want—me.
