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“Is he coming?” Father anxiously scans the area.
“Yes,” I reply, spotting the three SUVs caravanning our way.
They cage us in, then several armed men spill from them, their guns pointed toward us.
“Out with your hands up,” someone orders.
We do as we’re told, placing our hands behind our heads. One of the men rushes toward me, pushing me onto my knees on the ground. After binding my wrists at my back with rope, he pats my suit, checking the pockets and my back for any weapons. When he finds my phone, he tosses it onto the pavement and crushes it with his boot.
On the other side of the Tahoe, I can hear my father going through the same thing.
“Clear!” both guards yell.
We’re hauled to our feet and tossed into the back of one of their vehicles. Within a matter of seconds, we leave the warehouse behind.
I say nothing. Simply stare out at the road ahead as I quietly work the Maxton House ring off my finger, and jam it into the crook of the seat. It is now up to Ruslan to find us.
* * *
Although it shouldn’t surprise me to be taken to my old family home, it does. Or perhaps it’s not so much surprise as it is shock to once again be in the place where Kate was murdered.
From my position on my knees beside Father in the front parlor, I can clearly see beyond the dining room toward the kitchen.
I’d assume it was just a coincidence that we’ve been placed here to wait for our sentence to be carried out, but I doubt anything Gideon does is accidental. He wants us to have a good view of the murder scene. An added bonus, if you will, to his revenge.
I turn to my father. He’s lowered his head, choosing to stare at the floor instead. Tears roll down his cheeks, landing softly on the expensive carpet that will soon be covered in his blood. Possibly mine too.
“Good afternoon.” Gideon strolls into the room, followed closely by a blonde woman I assume is Scarlet.
Behind them, two huge guys escort Skye and Maisie, each holding one of them. Another goon comes in with two duffel bags and sets them near the entrance.
Skye looks up and my eyes meet hers, and when I see the terror in them, I try to stand.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Gideon says as I’m shoved back down hard by his henchwoman.
“You have us,” I hiss. “Let them go.”
“But that wasn’t the deal.”
“Then what is it?” I demand.
He lifts his gaze to Skye and grins evilly. “I’d likeherto tell you.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Skye. I’m not asking again. Tell him our deal. What is your ticket to freedom?”
Trembling, she utters, “A bullet in Clive’s head.”
“And who must put it there?”
Her breathing accelerates to the point I believe she’ll hyperventilate. “Me.”
Although her sister begins to quietly sob, I don’t take my gaze off her. She’s afraid but desperately doing her best to remain strong. Fighting to keep her composure.
Gideon stands between us, forcing my attention back to him. “Your lovely Skye puts a bullet between Clive’s eyes, then they can grab those bags with their belongings and leave.”
“Why have her do it?” I ask, my tone even and unaffected. “I won’t blame her for it.”
