Chapter 38

THIRTY-EIGHT

COLE

I t was early evening when Salem and I arrived home. The tension in the car had been palpable, each of us lost in our own thoughts, barely able to contain our frustrations. I glanced at Salem, her jaw set tight, her eyes dark with anger. I knew exactly how she felt. We were both tired of the setbacks, weary of the endless waiting.

We stepped through the front door, and the scent of dinner greeted us, mingling with the sound of voices coming from the kitchen. Lennox, Cohen, Remington, and Fallon were all gathered around the table Fallon looked up as we entered, a small smile playing on her lips. "Hey, you two. Dinner's in the oven," she called out, gesturing toward the stove.

Lennox, ever vigilant, didn't waste any time. "So?" he asked, his tone curious. "How did it go?"

Salem's head swiveled toward Cohen, her eyes blazing with intensity. Without a word, he slowly rose from his chair, his expression guarded. Salem crossed the room in a blur of movement and grabbed his t-shirt, pulling him close.

"What the hell are you playing at?" she demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

Cohen's gaze met hers, unwavering. "I did what I had to do," he replied evenly, his tone betraying nothing.

Salem's grip tightened, her frustration boiling over. "You put us all at risk," she hissed. "You ruined our chance."

Cohen held her gaze, his jaw set in a stubborn line. "I had to protect him," he insisted, his voice firm.

I watched the exchange, a knot forming in my stomach. This was not the time for family drama, not when we were so close to achieving our goal. We needed to stay focused, to keep our eyes on the prize.

"Enough," Lennox interjected, his voice cutting through the tense silence of the kitchen. "Somebody better explain what the fuck is going on."

Salem released her grip on Cohen, her frustration still evident. With a heavy sigh, she stepped back, her jaw clenched tight.

She then raised an expectant eyebrow at Cohen, her gaze piercing. "Well, are you going to tell them, or am I?" she demanded.

Cohen let out a heavy sigh, running his hands down his face in defeat before taking his seat at the table. His eyes remained locked with Salem's as he began to explain, his voice full of resignation. "It's not what you think, Salem," he started, his words hesitant. "Four days ago, I received a call from my father. He has had you followed since he found out you existed. He has photos of you leaving each of the Black Dahlia murder sites. I was trying to get my hands on them so I could destroy them."

Cohen's words sank in, and my mind raced with possibilities, each one more horrifying than the last. Salem's secret, the one we had worked so hard to protect, was now in jeopardy.

"Why didn't you tell us?" I blurted out, unable to contain my frustration. "We could've rescheduled the hit."

Cohen's gaze flicked to me, his expression pained. "I knew Salem would go through with it anyway," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "No matter the risk to her."

Remington's voice rang through the room, his tone incredulous. "Salem wouldn't do that," he protested, his eyes searching his sister's face for confirmation.

But when all eyes turned to her, Salem shifted uncomfortably, her gaze fixed on the floor as she wrestled with her thoughts. Remington's question hung in the air, heavy with implications.

"You wouldn't, right?" he pressed desperately.

Salem raised her gaze, her eyes meeting mine briefly before she let out a weary sigh. "If I was the only one he was threatening? Then yeah, I would have," she confessed, her voice nearly soundless.

Curses and exclamations filled the air, a cacophony of disbelief and anger swirling around us. My mind grappled with Salem's words. She had been willing to risk everything, to put herself in harm's way to protect us.

I reached for Salem's hand, squeezing it tightly in reassurance.

Lennox's voice cut through the unease. "Under no circumstances will you put yourself at risk, Salem," he declared, his tone firm and unwavering.

Salem opened her mouth to protest, but before she could speak, Lennox continued. "Cohen was right to protect you," he admitted, his gaze locking with Salem's. "We'll need him to keep working with his father until he can get his hands on those photos."

Cohen nodded in agreement, his expression solemn. "I'll keep trying to get them and destroy them," he vowed, stubbornness flashing in his eyes. Despite the risks, he was willing to do whatever it took to keep Salem out of harm's way.

Lennox's words were a grave reminder of what was at stake "Once we have the evidence, we can regroup," he announced. "But until then, we need to stay focused and keep our heads down."

There was a collective murmur of agreement from around the table as everyone processed Lennox's words. Fallon's expression softened with concern as she reached for Salem's hand in silent support.

Salem hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. But after a moment, she nodded reluctantly, her resolve firming. "Okay," she conceded. "I'll wait."

I knew Salem well enough to know that she wouldn't agree to this for long. She was too headstrong, too determined to protect those she cared about.

I couldn't afford to let her take matters into her own hands, not when she was the one at risk. I would keep an eye on her.

The shrill sound of the alarm cut through the quiet of the night, shattering the fragile peace that had enveloped us. In an instant, I was wide awake, senses alert, and ready to face any threats.

Beside me, Salem stirred, her eyes snapping open as she registered the urgency. Without hesitation, we sprang into action, our movements synchronized as if by instinct. We leaped out of bed, the seriousness of the situation propelling us into motion.

We scrambled to our feet. I moved to my concealed stash of weapons hidden behind a picture on the wall.

I tore the picture away, revealing the arsenal hidden beneath. My fingers closed around the cool metal of a gun, my heart racing as I grabbed another for Salem.

"Here," I said, thrusting the weapon into her hand. "We need to move now."

Salem's eyes met mine, fearlessness burning bright in their depths. Without a word, she nodded, her grip firm on the gun as she prepared to face whatever lay ahead.

Together, we made our way out of the bedroom, our movements swift and purposeful as we navigated the familiar halls of the house. We had each other's back, checking behind corners and ready for anything. The blare of the alarm seemed to echo in my ears, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked.

"Stay close," I murmured to her. "We don't know what we're walking into."

Salem was clad in nothing but an oversized tee. We moved with purpose and remained on high alert as we navigated through the dark house toward the living room.

When we arrived, we found the others gathered, urgency etched into their expressions. Lennox, Cohen, and Remington, like me, stood in their briefs. Mateo, unabashed, stood proudly nude, his gaze confident as he met ours.

Fallon, in fluffy pajamas adorned with bats, looked concerned, her eyes wide with apprehension as she took in the scene before her. We exchanged a silent nod before I turned to my twin, my voice tense as I demanded answers. "What's going on?" I asked Lennox, my grip on the gun tightening as I prepared for whatever came next.

Lennox's expression was grim as he met my gaze, his jaw tense. "It's the front gate," he replied tersely, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "There's been a breach."

Before he could say another word, his phone rang, cutting through the dark living room. He answered it without pause, his brow furrowing as he listened to the voice on the other end.

"What is it?" I demanded, thinking of all the ways to protect Salem as I waited for his response.

Lennox's expression hardened as put his phone on speaker. "You better come take a look, boss," the enforcer's voice crackled through the phone.

Without a moment's hesitation, we all jumped into action, making our way toward the front door. Before we could step outside, Salem's voice cut through the chaos, stopping Mateo dead in his tracks.

"Put some clothes on," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Mateo flashed her a wry smile, his eyes dancing with mischief as he teased, "Don't you want anyone else to see me in all my glory?"

Salem's response was immediate, a possessive growl escaping her lips as she shot him a warning glare. "No, you're mine," she declared.

With a chuckle, Mateo disappeared, leaving the rest of us to continue toward the gatehouse. As we approached, it became clear that something was wrong. The guards who usually manned the front gate were nowhere to be seen, and the glass of the gatehouse windows were covered in blood.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I followed the others as we drew closer, our footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. And then, as we reached the gate, the full horror of the situation became apparent.

Salem's friends, Zoe and the other girls from the strip club lay before us, their lifeless bodies lined up as if on display. The sight was enough to make my blood run cold. A sickening feeling of dread settled over me as I looked at the bloodbath before me.

Salem's piercing wail cut through the night air like a knife, breaking my cold heart as she ran toward Zoe's lifeless body, dropping to her knees at her side.

We followed slowly, our steps heavy as we approached Salem. She was hunched over Zoe, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she reached out to feel for a pulse. Fallon placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering what little solace she could in the face of such tragedy.

Lennox stepped forward, moving closer to one of the girls. I followed closely behind him, wondering what he had noticed. My suspicions were confirmed when I spotted it. Stapled to one of the girls was a note, the blood from her slit throat dripping down onto the paper.

Dearest daughter,

Take this as a warning. For every move against me, there will be ten bodies left at your doorstep. I always told you caring for others was a weakness.

Lennox swore under his breath as he stepped back from the note, his expression dark with anger and frustration. Cohen approached to read it, his features drawn tight with tension as he muttered a curse under his breath.

Fallon moved to help Salem to her feet, her touch gentle as she offered her support.

Salem's voice broke through the heavy silence, her tone a mixture of confusion and dread. "What are you all looking at?" she asked. Her eyes darted between each of us in search of an answer.

Cohen hesitated, his jaw clenched tight as he weighed his options. With a heavy sigh, he moved out of the way, reluctantly allowing Salem to read the note for herself.

I held my breath as her eyes scanned the words with anger. The message seemed to settle over her like a suffocating blanket, her shoulders slumping as she processed the implications.

As she read, the color drained from her face, leaving her skin pale and ghostly in the dim light of the night. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and her knuckles turned white as she clenched her hands into fists. Salem's silence was deafening.

Something about her silent reaction unsettled me, a nagging feeling of concern gnawing at the edges of my mind.

"Contact their families," Salem said suddenly, her voice cold and devoid of emotion. "I will pay for their funerals."

With those words, she turned on her heel and strode back toward the house. The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances before moving into action.

We followed Salem back inside to make arrangements, and the entire time, I couldn't shake the feeling that things were only going to get worse from here.