16. Escape

SIXTEEN

ESCAPE

CROSS

A fter three weeks in a fishbowl of a cell, it took a single gunshot to shatter my butterfly.

I saw it happen. I was helpless to prevent it. So determined to keep Genevieve out of the line of fire, I pushed her out of the way after Noah’s gun went off. The bang was explosive, the shower of cinderblock dust for where he struck the wall raining down on my hair, but all I could think about was getting Genevieve down.

I overcompensated in my panic. She moved out of the way, but I lost my balance, falling to my knees. At the same time, Savannah got bowled over after she threw the blanket in Noah’s face to distract him and he barreled into her. A fucking comedy of errors, with the outcome being that Noah’s gun skittered its way in front of Genevieve and my butterfly picked it up.

Savannah shouted at her to shoot, and she did, and I watched her break .

I could blame Damien Libellula for keeping her so coddled and under wraps that she found the life fascinating, without ever facing the realities of it. She got her first glimpse when we were ran off the road and taken captive. Another glimpse when they starved us for days before bringing food down in an obvious ploy to manipulate Genevieve into sucking off the guards.

Then I did, and seeing the brutality I was capable of didn’t turn her against me. I thought it would, but Genevieve always understood that life in the gangs was rough. I protected her and that’s all that mattered. Even after they made me rape her—because that’s what it was, it was rape because prisoners can’t consent and I should’ve fought harder to keep her from what happened—she excused my behavior.

But I know this woman. She’s made of fire and light, music and joy, and though three weeks in this hell didn’t quite steal that from her, seeing the aftermath of how brutal she could be…

As I push myself off of the floor as Noah drops down dead, I know that that just might’ve done it.

Genevieve is no trained marksman. She didn’t even know I carried until I admitted that they stole my weapon while we’re unconscious, and she admitted that she’s never even held a gun before. For a first timer, she couldn’t have made a better shot.

Proximity had a lot to do with it. That close, she couldn’t miss Noah, and the shot got him dead center. He was gone before he hit the floor, leaving a bloody mess and a visible shaken Genevieve holding his gun.

Savannah slowly rises as I take the gun from Genevieve. She doesn’t resist. Trembling, her pale blue eyes staring straight ahead as if she can’t see a thing, I remove her fingers from the handle and switch the gun from her grasp to mine.

“Butterfly,” I whisper, using my nickname for her to get her attention. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it hadn’t worked, but she blinks once, her sight coming back to her as she looks up at me in ill-concealed panic. I make a soothing noise and use my free hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

I just hope I’m not lying when, as soon as the final echoes of the gunshot die down, I hear more footsteps.

These ones are welcome.

Racing for the glass door, punching in the code since it slid shut again, Luca looks from the shell-shocked Genevieve to the dead man on the floor, glances up at the camera, and thins his lips in barely concealed fury.

“He got past me,” he spits out. “I don’t even know how he did. I heard footsteps, but when I got upstairs, I didn’t see anyone. He must’ve slipped right on by when I checked one room, then hit the stairs before I noticed him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Savannah tells him. “One dead Snowflake, two dead Snowflakes… as soon as we figure out where Winter is, he’ll be another leaf on my bicep. But that’s later. We have to get the fuck out of here before someone else shows up.”

“I did a quick sweep.”

“You take the back and hold on to that gun,” Savannah says to me. Suddenly, she has a stiletto knife in her grip, and I’m too stunned by the sudden turn of events, I can’t even imagine where the hell she got it from. Luca maybe? Who the hell knows? “Luca, grab Gen and keep your gun out, too. Sandwich her between us, keep her safe. I’ve got point.”

“Cross,” breathes out Genevieve. “I need Cross.”

Savannah doesn’t even hesitate. “Right. Cross, stand with Gen. If anyone else comes, we’re getting her out of here. Luca, you’re in the rear.”

No argument from either of us, though as Savannah Libellula gives commands, I have a newfound respect for Genevieve’s brother for not trying to cage a woman like this.

Now if only I could get him to understand that Genevieve deserves to be free, too…

As we finally leave that fucking cell—and Noah—behind, Luca quickly explains the layout upstairs so I know what to expect. Turns out, this is a two-floor compound about as wide as the Libellula manor. The downstairs is specifically designed to host prisoners that Winter decides to shut up down there. Upstairs, he has a lab that worries me, a kitchen, a bedroom that the guards traded off using when they stayed over, and an empty waiting area for anyone who stops by and thinks that Winter Enterprises is a legit business and not just a front for a criminal organization run by a psychopath.

There’s attached storage, too. Luca says that the actual drug part of their operation is in Nevada—because, yup, Winter and his gang are based in Nevada and have just slowly been moving across the United States until they finally hit the East Coast—and this facility was designed to host their gun supply before distribution, though that was shut down before Luca got hired on. As of now, the only reason to keep this compound running on a skeleton crew was because of the cells in the basement, but that’s because Winter has property all over the place.

No wonder the first Winter set his sights on Springfield. If he took out both the Dragonflies and the Sinners, he’d have free rein to push his Breeze and his weapons, and the money and crew to do it since he’s already conquered at least eight other states.

When Devil first saw the snowflake on the butt of an unfamiliar gun, and Rolls warned me to keep an eye out for anyone asking to be tatted with the same mark, both our leader and his second made it seem like the man behind the snowflake was an upstarts, pushing his like targeting Springfield.

Then Damien met with Devil and said that Johnny Winter was dead, and the Snowflakes were history.

Well. At least one positive thing came out of being captured and used as a pawn in a sick game masterminded by Johnny Winter: we know that the Snowflakes might just be a bigger problem than we thought.

Luca agrees. “When we get back to Springfield, stay alert, Cross. I only talked to Winter three times. When they pushed me in front of him as an interview and after, like, five questions, he smirked and told me I was hired. Then when I offered to get a prisoner for him to show him I was legit. He’s not all there. There’s no way of knowing how he’ll retaliate.”

I nod, trying not to say anything that might further agitate Genevieve. She hasn’t spoken another word since she asked for me, and as I keep my free arm tucked around her, holding her close, I can’t help but feel like a part of her… she’s slipping away from me.

Winter won’t not be a problem until he’s dead. Too bad he’s nowhere near the facility.

Luca confirms that Winter is rarely on-sight. He didn’t even come to this side of Hamilton to meet with Luca. They did that in the back of a dive bar, at least ten miles away. Now that Noah’s taken out, the facility is clear, and we have no trouble as Savannah leads us up and out.

Luca is still muttering to me, pissed that the escape plan got as fuck-up as it did.

“This was the only shot we had. It was just supposed to be me at the compound until dinner. Winter said he had other shit for the guys to do, and I figured it might be a test, but we couldn’t wait. I guess Noah was the test. Winter must’ve sent him to make sure I was on the up and up.”

Because Noah wasn’t supposed to be here, but he was, and my butterfly was forced to kill him to save us all.

Genevieve stiffened at the mention of Noah’s name. I rub her upper arm, trying not to notice how cold she is, then shoot a look behind me at Luca.

He gets the hint and shuts the hell up.

Less than three minutes after we hit the stairs, we’re exiting a side door that leads right to a parking lot.

There are four cars out here. Three of them look too pricy to belong to Noah; the last one is a beater at least fifteen years older than the others. I recognize the long black car as Devil’s. When Luca hurries over, opening the back door—back to his driver duties—and Lincoln Crewes steps out in all his glory, I’m not surprised.

There’s a nondescript black car parked two spaces away. Through the windshield, I see a large man with closely cropped dark hair and a pair of Libellula blue eyes a few shades darker than Genevieve’s.

He lets himself out, and when he marches around his car, going for the driver side of the red Maserati next to him, I know he’s wasting his time. I’m right. Damien Libellula doesn’t wait for his cousin to open the door for him like Luca did for Devil. He shoves the door open, stalks out, and murmurs something in another language under his breath before he swoops Genevieve up into a tight hug.

I didn’t want to let her go. Knowing that this is her family, I had no choice. Right before he grabbed her, I took my arm back and stepped away.

That’s her brother. Her brother , Cross. She disappeared and he spent at least two weeks having no idea if she was safe or not. You have no fucking reason to be jealous of her brother.

And maybe if I keep telling myself that, I won’t want to rip Damien away from my butterfly…

It’s not Damien who releases Genevieve first. After a few more seconds, she wiggles out of his grip, immediately turning to find me. She ducks under my side, clutching my dirty shirt, and I feel peace for the first time since she was forced to fire that gun.

Damien Libellula has a fierce reputation. Not as bad as the Devil of Springfield, but when his pale blue eyes land on me and I see nothing but ice, my stomach goes cold.

It’s a split second of him scrutinizing me before his elegant features soften once he sets eyes on his wife. He holds open his arms, and Savannah walks right into them.

I squeeze Genevieve close as the married couple have their reunion.

“Ragna mia, you are a miracle.” Damien presses a kiss to the top of her hair. “Now, please, help my sister into the car. Vin will drive you home. I’ll be right behind you.”

Savannah moves over to Genevieve. “Come on, Gen. I’m dying for a good meal and a shower. And Orion. You missed him, too, didn’t you? Let’s go home and see Orion.”

She blinks, still clinging to me. “Cross? Are you coming with me?”

Her question is a plea.

Damien’s voice lashes out like a whip. “I’d like to take to him first, sorellina.”

“Dame, I?—”

He gentles his hard tone. “Genevieve, please. I’ll see you at the manor. Let me talk to your man here.”

As though needing him to recognize that I have some claim to her, hearing him call me ‘her man’ has Genevieve reluctantly letting go of my chest. She pats it once, then walking as though in a daze, allows Savannah to guide her to the black car and help her into the back seat.

Me? I know better.

That cold lashing voice? It was a sign of a frigid temper, worse because it’s not as heated and explosive as a man on the verge of losing control. This is a man in complete control, and even more dangerous because of it.

So I’m not surprised at all that, the moment Vincent Libellula speeds away with my butterfly, Damien turns that whip on me.

“You will stay away from my sister,” he orders.

Excuse me? “All due respect,” because, after all, he is the head of the Dragonflies and Genevieve’s brother, “but I can’t do that. I love her.”

Damien’s face ices over. “It’s a trauma bond, nothing more. You don’t love her?—”

“I do?—”

“You can’t. If you loved my sister, you never would’ve put her in danger in the first place.”

My mouth clicks shut. I have nothing to say to that.

He moves into me, so close our chests are almost touching. “I blame myself, too. If it wasn’t for me, Gen never would’ve been targeted. I know that. I accept that. It’s part of the life, and I’ll make anyone who hurt her pay for it. But you… you don’t want to hurt her, right?”

The word is torn from my chest: “ Never .”

“I thought as much. So, listen to me: you stay away from her. And I’m not being a dick.” Yes, he is. “Okay,” he allows, “maybe a little. But that’s because she’s precious. You’d agree.”

I jerk my head once. A nod.

“Exactly. And you have to know she’s special. Whatever happened in there… she didn’t deserve any of it. Don’t you realize what will happen if you try to cling to her now that you’re out? You’ll remind her of what happened.”

“I’m the only one who understands?—”

“Very true,” Damien says, interrupting me. “And that doesn’t change my point. Genevieve needs a clean break. No reminders. She needs to stay home where my Dragonflies can keep her from getting mixed up with Winter again.”

I swallow roughly. “I can keep her safe.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Do you honestly think so? Because, forgive me, but I think we just went through a lot of trouble to pull your ass out of there, too.”

Again, I shut up because, damn it, he’s right.

“Damien. For the sake of this Goddamn truce, I gave you the two minutes with my guy you bargained for. Time’s up. Cross. We’re taking you home.”

I want to refuse. I want to tell Damien to kiss my ass, that Genevieve is mine , and take her home with me. I want to lock her up in my apartment where I can keep her safe and sound in case Winter comes after her again, and lie with her in my bed as I finally get to explore her without cameras on us?—

Holy fucking shit.

Holy shit .

He’s right. The lead Dragonfly is right . All I wanted to do was set my butterfly free, and within minutes of us breaking out of that cell, I’m already planning to put her in another glass jar. Is it okay because I want to keep her? Fuck, no. I stole her first time from her, and I think that I should have the right to touch her again?

What the hell is wrong with me?

He’s right. Damien told me to stay away from her because it would be the best thing for her. Seeing me would be a reminder of what she went through. My skin against hers… how could she ever let me touch her without remembering being forced to?

I will forever be a trigger for her own trauma. And Genevieve will always be flames to me.

There’s no way we can be together, and that means we have to stay apart.

Besides, this is the Devil of Springfield. You don’t refuse Lincoln ‘Devil’ Crewes, especially not when you wear the Sinners Syndicate’s trademark devil horns and tail on your flesh. Then again, I saw how he was with his wife shortly after they were married. I was the one who tatted his full Christian name on her ring finger to make sure everyone knew who she belonged to, and I was gathered with the rest of the syndicate when Devil went down on her after proclaiming her his queen—then setting an example by blowing Twig away when he dared to question Devil on his methods.

I’d do the same for Genevieve, I realize. Even before I knew she felt for me a sliver of what I felt for her, I admitted I was obsessed. Now I know that I can’t live without her… but I’m going to have to.

For my butterfly.

So I nod, and Damien says, “Good. Then I trust we have an understanding.”

I guess we do.

Devil waits for me to follow him into the backseat of his car. Once we’re both seated, he raps the glass separating him from Luca, and says, “Let’s bring our boy back. And then take a couple of nights off, Luca. You deserve it.”

“You got it, boss,” he answers.

The cars starts, and we’re off, leaving the last of my battered heart behind me.

Devil waits until we’ve sped out of the compound’s parking lot before he asks, “You doing okay?”

No . “I survived.”

I survived the captivity. How the hell am I going to survive being apart from Genevieve?

Devil searches my face. I do everything I can to shut down and give nothing away. It must work because, after a moment, he leans back in his seat. His legs spread open, hand landing on the Sig Sauer that is his constant companion.

With an expectant look in his dark eyes, he nods at me. “In that case, I want you to tell me everything you know about this second Winter…”