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Carven was the one who broke through his grief. The one who carried more pain in the absence of his twin than all of us combined. “We exist in a place they can’t reach,” he murmured. “No matter how many times they take us. We have something they will never have…we have us.”
I turned my head, meeting those blue eyes. Eyes fixed on mine as he whispered. “So you can either stand here and carry the fucking weight of all of this, or you can be the father you’ve always been…and help me get my goddamn brother back.”
With one hand gripping Colt’s severed thumb, London unscrewed the top of the kerosene, grabbed the bottle, and strode around the counter.
Flick…
The image ignited that same fury in me. I turned around and started walking. I knew where I was heading…and was unable to stop it.
My hands shook.
My breaths panted as I strode into the bedroom she’d shared with the man I loved. This was more than jealousy now. More than a petty fucking pissing contest I’d spat in the restaurant. I reached out, grabbed the bedding from the bed and, with a burning roar, ripped it free. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I tore her clothes from the closet, dumping them into a pile in the middle of the room.
It wasn’t enough…but it was a start.
The heavy thud of London’s steps approached. I spun, my wild eyes moving to the bottle in his hand. One that was now half empty.
The pungent stench filled my nose as he handed it to me, his gaze moving to the body slumped against the wall. As he stared, I grabbed the bottle and upended the rest of the flammable liquid, splashing it over the clothes and the bedding.
“The match,” I croaked, my throat raw. “Give me the damn matches, London.”
He reached out and handed them to me without a sound. My fingers never trembled as I tore one free and spun around. One flick and a flame came to life. I tossed it, watching it fly through the air before it landed. Chanel burned just as readily as the bedding.
In a whoosh, the pile was engulfed. Flames rose, climbing up the bed and onto the mattress where they’d once laid.
“We need to leave,” London urged.
I gave a slow nod, glancing over my shoulder. Through the reaching flames, I seared the image of her mangled face into my mind. There would be more like her by the time I had Colt back…many fucking more.
Carven flicked more matches, setting alight the rest of the townhouse.
“Guild,” London snarled into the phone as we headed out. “It’s time.” His heavy steps thudded on the stairs as we descended. “Pay every fucking mercenary whatever they want. But I want this city torn apart. Find Colt and find him now.”
“We’re coming for you, Colt,” I whispered as I raced down the stairs and lunged for the car. “Hold on, baby, we’re coming.”
“Where?” Carven demanded. He yanked the passenger door closed as London climbed in behind the wheel. “Where do we start?”
“In the center of this fucking nest,” he answered as he started the engine and shoved the car into reverse. We backed out of the driveway before the Audi lunged forward. “We go to Hale.”
I yanked my seatbelt down, driving it into place. The sharp snap of Carven’s gun was loud in the car. “Do it,” the son urged. “Take me to him.”
“Vivienne.” London started, meeting my gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“Give me a gun,” I demanded. “I need to fight.”
One careful nod of London’s head and the memory of them bursting into Macoy Daniels’ house rushed in. All I saw was my silent protector vaulting over that sofa, desperate to get to me. He would’ve killed anyone at that moment. Just as I wanted to kill now.
London reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun, handing it to me in the backseat of the car. I grabbed it, my fist curling around the patterned grip. Cold steel warmed under my touch. I shoved all fear aside and fixed my gaze on the streets ahead as we headed just out of the city, to where opulent houses waited. London was fixed on the road as he slowed, then turned into a driveway. A guard stepped out of a hut as we turned and pulled up at the towering iron gates.
But Carven was already moving, opening the passenger’s door and climbing out, lifting his hand as he quickly took aim across the windshield of the car.
Bang!
The guard never had a chance, dropping where he stood. Carven moved fast, rounding the front of the Audi, bending low to snatch the two-way from the guard as he raced for the hut.
“Stay behind me, understand?” The words were a command, but one filled with fear as London glanced at me in the mirror.
“I understand.” My words were dull and lifeless.
