Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

THERON

Leaving Lucille alone again is not what I intended. After fucking her last night, I had plans to stay and talk to her about the future. The purchase has gone through, everything is set, and she’s been bought and paid for. Granted, I wasn’t planning on telling her that part, just that she was safe to go home, pack her shit, and move into my place.

But I didn’t get to do that because Emmie, Charlie, and Asher had other ideas. They’ve fucked up my plans once again. Leaving the safe house, I send Vaughn a text that I’m gone and to keep an eye on things because they are heating up.

Making my way down to the Willow Club, I’m surprised to see that the club is still in full swing. At least, that’s the way the full parking lot appears. It’s well after three in the morning, and legally, they should be closed.

Instead of getting out of my car immediately, I grip the steering wheel and close my eyes for a moment. When I do, a memory pops into my head. One that I thought I’d forgotten about. One that happened years ago.

Sitting in front of her apartment, I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing the right thing by staying. She loves me. She’s said as much not only to my face but also when she thinks I’m asleep. She doesn’t realize that sleep doesn’t come to me the way that it does to regular people.

When you have to keep one eye open for over ten years to watch your back, you can never be in a deep sleep state. Opening the door, I unfold from the car before I straighten and head toward her.

Slipping my key into the lock, I unlock it and walk into the apartment. Closing the door behind me, I flip the lock in place before I lift my head, and that’s when I see her. Lucille’s back is to me. She’s wearing a pair of panties and a tank top, nothing else.

Without a word, she slowly turns around to face me. When her eyes meet mine, my fucking breath is stolen from my body. I may not be able to tell her with words that I love her, but I do. Every piece of me. She makes me want to lose the control that I hold so deeply.

“I didn’t know if you were coming over tonight,” she whispers.

I’m not sure what to say, so I just grunt before I toss my keys into the bowl by the front door. Moving toward her, I slowly strip my clothes off. When I stop just a few feet away from her, I’m completely naked. Her breathing has sped up to short pants. Her eyes focused on my cock. I watch as her tongue slowly slides across her bottom lip.

“Can’t get enough of you, sweetheart,” I rasp.

Her gaze flicks up to meet mine, and she shakes her head once as if she doesn’t believe my words. I’m not sure that she should. I’ve been totally fucking checked out, trying to decide if I should go or stay. No, I take that back. I know that I need to leave, but I’m selfish as fuck.

“Can’t you?” she asks. “You don’t call me anymore,” she rasps.

Reaching out, I curl my fingers around the side of her neck before I slide my thumb up and down the center of her throat. I don’t call her anymore. My contact has been this. Coming over to fuck and sleep.

“What do you want from me?” I ask.

I shouldn’t have asked at all.

“Everything, Theron. I want now, and I want the future.”

It’s over.

I can’t give her the future and I know that she needs that. It’s going to be someone else to give it to her though. The selfish asshole that I am is going to take the last time and savor every fucking second of it.

Leaning forward, I touch my mouth to hers and slip my tongue inside of her—tasting her one last time. Releasing her throat, I reach around and grab ahold of her ass, picking her up off the floor before I carry her to the bed so that I can fully savor every last second of this moment together.

The last time.

Shaking my head, I clear the thoughts away. I can’t believe that memory popped into my head. I haven’t thought about that last time in years. I shouldn’t have left her then. I was doing what I thought was the best thing for her.

The selfish bastard that I am.

I thought that I was protecting her from me. I couldn’t lose that. I needed to keep a tight hold of it, especially back then, and Lucille has always been the only woman that could make me lose it. I could feel it slipping through my fingers just like I do now. Except I’m not willing to walk away again. Not from her. Not from us.

Unfolding from the car, I stand and head toward the club. As I reach for the door handle to the back entrance, my phone rings. Releasing my grasp on the door, I take a step backward and reach for my phone. Glancing at the screen, I frown at the sight of the name flashing across it.

It’s Merrick.

He’s supposed to be in Florida dealing with getting his new wife moved up to Nights. Sliding my thumb across the screen, I clear my throat as I hold my device up to my ear. I don’t have to say anything. He knows I’m listening.

“They are, without a doubt, going to still go after Lucille,” Merrick announces.

I don’t act surprised, even though I am. I don’t know how he knows this because, standing right outside of the back door, there are two cameras pointed at me, both recording not only visual but also audio. I know this because I installed them.

“Okay,” I state.

He growls. “You’re there, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” I confirm.

“Okay, listen to me, then, and don’t say shit. You and I both know they can hear everything you say, and I’m telling you right now that they’re watching you.”

Fuck.

Of course, they are.

I don’t say anything as I wait for him to continue. I’ve been watched enough in my lifetime to know how to act completely fucking nonchalantly while being absolutely on alert. Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I turn my back to the cameras and rock from foot to foot as if I’m having a casual conversation.

“Vaughn told me about the hit, told me that she’s in the safe house.”

Irritated, I wonder offhand what else fucking Vaughn told him. But then I let that shit go because, in the end, it doesn’t matter. It’s not a secret. What is a secret is the fact that Vaughn is taking those types of jobs and doing them on the side.

Sucking in a breath, I shift my gaze to one side and then the other. “Okay,” I say.

He chuckles, and I can imagine him shaking his head, totally fucking annoyed with me. I don’t care. I have shit I need to do, and he’s annoying the fucking shit out of me with this conversation.

He needs to get to the fucking point already.

Closing my eyes, I let out the breath I was holding and start to ask him to get to the fucking point. “Charlie is going to kidnap her. That’s the plan. They’ve been sitting in that fucking office discussing it all afternoon. They want her out of the way.”

“Yeah? Why?” I ask.

“That bitch is jealous as hell. She knows something is up, and Charlie is pissed he got rejected. Also, Asher looked back in the footage and saw her make her way into his little hidey-hole. They’ve decided she’s nothing but a fucking problem.”

I mean, none of them are wrong, but she’s my goddamn problem, and I’m keeping her. They cannot have her. They cannot take her from me.

“Yeah?” I ask

“We get rid of them, we lose the opportunity to find out about Ravet.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m already fucking sick of them,” Merrick murmurs.

I’m sick of them, too, and honestly, we’re not getting any fucking where. I’ve already wasted precious time and resources on all of this. “And if we just move forward?” I ask.

He knows what I’m asking. He knows I’m asking him to give up this mission. A mission that we’ve been on for a fucking decade. “Let’s not make any decisions right now. We need to be able to have a conversation in an open forum.”

“I’ll talk to you later. I need to go in and see my woman,” I lie. This bitch is not my woman.

“Watch your back. I’ve got Hale watching you from the office. But seriously, watch your fucking back, Theron.”

Merrick ends the call, and I shove my phone in my pocket before I turn around and make my way into the back of the Willow Club. I’m not sure what situation is going to greet me, but apparently, there’ve been meetings, so there’s that.

This whole thing doesn’t feel right, and maybe my gut feeling is the right one, and I should just end all three of these assholes right now and forget about revenge on Ravet.

Walking into the back hallway, I pause at the silence. It’s completely fucking quiet in here. With the amount of cars parked in the lot, it should not be silent.

I’m about to turn the fuck around and make up some kind of excuse as to why I had to leave, but a throat clearing somewhere in the distance causes me to pause. I watch as Victor Marlowe appears. He’s got a shit-eating grin playing on his lips and seems absolutely fucking electric.

“Marlowe,” I murmur.

“We’re all underground,” he announces. “Come on, it’s a big day here.”

I’m not sure if I should be following behind him. What I should be doing is turning my ass around and getting the fuck out of here. I’m getting really fucking bad vibes about this whole thing. I have been since the moment this shit started.

I should have never taken Emmie home that first night. I should have never continued to fuck her. She targeted me, attempted to manipulate me, and I fucking let her. Initially, I thought that maybe it was all meant to be fate in a way.

Finding Ravet has been our goal for a decade, but now I’m not so sure. If becoming evil to hunt down my abuser is what I have to do, then I’m not sure it’s worth it. But even as I think that, I continue to walk down the narrow staircase with Victor in front of me.

The second door opens without us even knocking. This is very much not like the last time. Victor steps to the side as soon as he makes his way past the doorway. I move behind him, my gaze finding Emmie’s immediately. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, dipping her chin slightly. It’s a silent beg for me to come to her.

I do.

But only because I’m playing the game, one that I am so fucking over playing right now. Walking toward Emmie, I reach out and wrap my arm around her waist. She places her hand on the center of my chest, tipping her head back to smile up at me.

I pretend like I don’t know she wants Lucille dead. I pretend a lot of fucking things. Dipping my chin, I touch my lips to hers, then shift my face backward slightly so I can look into her eyes.

“What’s this?” I ask against her mouth.

“It’s my favorite part of the year,” she whispers. “It’s auction time.”

I open my mouth to ask her what that means but snap my lips closed because I don’t need to ask. Deep down, I already know exactly what the fuck it is, and instantly, my stomach churns.

This is everything I never wanted to be part of again, and yet, I don’t have the choice because this is the only way I’ll be able to find Ravet, and as much as I want to give up, I also want revenge just as badly—maybe even more.

Emmie slips her arm in mine and positions me so that I am standing behind her. It’s the perfect position. My back is to the wall, and I can take in every piece of shit in the room.

Every single one of them.

The men are dressed to the nines. They have on their suits, their watches, and their shoes. All of which are top-of-the-line designers. All of which just mask the devil within. They can dress it up any way they want, but they’re all fucking evil. However, none of them are the men in charge.

These are just men.

They are not Ravet.

They are not the top players.

These are men with money and time. The top players, the ones who are organizing this, they don’t have the time to sit here and show off their money. They’re too fucking busy. They also are too elite to be with the people here who are beneath their station.

The secret door that the women walked out of last time opens, and I watch as boys between the ages of ten and thirteen make their way into the room. They stand in a straight line. There are six of them, and my heart races at the sight.

Six.

Just like us.

My first reaction is that I want to take the gun out of my shoulder holster and kill every person in this room before I release the boys. I don’t do that, though. Hopefully, Hale is in the office watching and sending help because no matter what else happens tonight, I cannot allow those boys to leave here with any one of these men.

“Welcome to the Willow Club’s semi-annual auction,” Asher announces. “We’ll start the bidding at ten thousand dollars.”

Keeping a straight face, I can’t help but hope that every single person in this room, aside from the kids, dies a long, slow death. And I want to be the one to deliver that slow fucking death to them, too.

To all of them.