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“No.”
“Did the bastard at least scream before they ended him?”
I turned then, finding that cruel part of his nature rising in his eyes. That glint we all had, every single one of us. “Yeah, he screamed.”
“Good.” Baldeon nodded slowly. “Good.” And he lifted the bottle once more.
“You have no idea who it was?” I pushed.
Baldeon jerked his gaze high, his pupils dancing as his mind raced. He licked his lips. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about since I…you know, I woke up. But there’s nothin’. Nothin’ I can think of.”
“Has your father…called?”
“Yeah,” he took another swallow. “Twice now, the old man’s spitting it, screaming for blood. He’s going through everyone who has a problem with the Baldeons. But there’s no one that’d have a beef like this. No one would want me…”
Dead. He still couldn’t say it. They wanted him dead.
I swallowed hard, my gaze shifting to the bottle in his hand. He flinched and his gaze focused on mine as he lifted the bottle to me.
I just shook my head. “Keep it,” and turned for the door.
“Finley.” He stopped me two steps from leaving. But his voice had that tone now, that softer fucking tone. The one filled with all the shit I didn’t need to hear. “About your mom.”
One nod was all he got. One simple fucking nod as my throat flared with a savage ache. I left Baldeon, striding along the quiet hallways with my damn shadow at my back.
About your mom…
That ache traveled down through my throat to clench like a fist in my chest.
Screams filled my world. Only they weren’t the screams of an assassin.
They were mine.
14
Anna
“Anna,” Kat called me. “Come on, honey, let’s go.”
I tore my gaze from the point where I'd lost sight of Dad’s boat and tried to still the chattering of my teeth.
Her fingers brushed my arm. “Look at you, you’re freezing.”
Anna…Dad’s desperate plea surfaced in my mind. The look on his face followed, his features twisted, his frantic eyes whipping from that man who'd greeted him at the dock to me. The man who was all hard edges and chiseled features, the man who scared Dad. I could see it in his eyes. I swallowed that awful ache in my chest and let her pull me away.
“Let’s get back home and get you something warm to wear. Then we can talk, okay?”
Talk.
The one thing I couldn’t do.
Talking meant more than an unburdening—a tremor coursed from my belly—no matter how heavy that weighed on my soul. No, talking meant something far more tangible to me in that moment. A bullet to the brain.
Still, I let her pull me with her, let her slip her arm in mine. Let her guide me as we made our way back along the path to our building. Warmth wrapped around me the moment we strode through the automatic doors to the foyer and stopped at the elevator.
Kat cast me a careful look and urged me inside as the doors opened. She thought this was all because I wanted off the island. She thought it was because of what had happened at the party. Her brows were furrowed and she was silent…careful, which was so not her. But it wasn’t just about this place, or the party.
It was what had happened after.
