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And I couldn’t fucking wait.
“We’re expecting a quiet compound when we enter.” Hunter brought up his cell, flicking through call after call for mercenaries needed for an urgent search and rescue. I knew instantly who’d sent them, only there was no rescue involved. All they wanted was the Daughters, and once they had them they wouldn't care about anything else.
“We good?” Hunter asked Kane.
“Yes.” Kane gave a slow nod and glanced my way. “You okay with this?”
“I’ll be better when it’s all over,” I answered. “And they’re all dead.”
* * *
I tried to pass the day away from the others, my mind all wrapped up around Coulter and the fact I wasn’t the one in control. I didn’t trust anyone when it came to The Order or Helene, for that matter…especially Helene.
The place was a goddamn fortress. I made my way around the compound, stopping at the house for a while. I could hear Kane and Thomas talking, making plans as they ate. But the thought of food made my stomach churn. Instead, my mind was caught on the other compound. More importantly, the chat rooms about the Sons. My pulse sped with the memory of St. James’ hunters, Carven and Colt. There was a ruthlessness about them, a chilling mechanical hunger behind their eyes.
I knew men who killed with no remorse. But this wasn’t that. This was…mind control.
I needed to know more.
Thud.
Thud.
THUD!
I neared the command building and caught the sound of fists driving into something soft. Heavy grunting followed as I stepped into the doorway. You would’ve thought the bastard would be all worn out after fucking the woman I loved, but nope…here he was tearing a heavy punching bag apart with his bare fucking hands. Only now he didn’t have on that gruesome fucking mask. Sweat shone against his massive bare back. Tattoos covered his skin. Looking at him, it was hard to see the scrawny kid who’d once looked up to me.
He stopped, sensing me behind him, and slowly turned, his bare knuckles bright red from the impacts. No words were exchanged as those cold gray eyes met mine. The hard planes of his cheeks did nothing to hide the true sight of his face.
Hard lips curled in a sneer. It didn’t take a fucking genius to know who he envisioned when he drove his fists into that bag…me.
I turned away and made my way up the stairs to where the computers waited, connected to his team. It wasn’t until I sat down, found the list of his team members online, and started to email the one I needed that the brutal thuds of his blows came once more.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud…
I winced and started typing, unable to shift that nagging thought in my head. This is Riven, is there any more information on the Sons?
Then I waited…
THIRTEEN
Helene
Riven was acting strange…stranger than normal. He didn’t look at me as we gathered our things and made for the four-wheel drives waiting for us in the driveway. In fact, he didn’t look at anyone, just kept his head down and tried to look busy. I hauled my bag into the back of the Explorer driven by one of Hunter’s masked soldiers and turned around.
“Helene,” Hunter called as I strode past to where Riven and the others grabbed the rest of their gear and headed toward us.
“Hey.” I fixed my stare on Riven.
He grasped a Glock, placing it into the holster at his side and clutched the hideous skull mask in his other hand. But he never fixed those steel gray eyes on mine, leaving me to grasp his chin and force the connection. “What’s going on with you?”
Something was bugging him.
Something big.
