Sinister went out the night before last to do one of his walks through downtown. He likes to keep his eye on “his city,” as he calls it. But he didn’t come home. At first, I thought little of it. After all, he has things to do and Aidan’s business to help run. But as the hours ticked by with no word, I began to worry.
Maybe I’m paranoid. Perhaps Aidan’s taken a turn for the worse, or Sin got caught up with work. But if there’s one thing he takes seriously, it’s his word. He kissed me goodbye and told me he’d be back that night.
Only he never showed. And his cell phone goes to voicemail every time I call it.
A lump forms in my throat at the thought of somethinghappening to him. My hands tremble, and I clasp them together, my knuckles turning white. I can’t think like that. He’s fine. Maybe Aidan needed him to torture someone, and he’s lost track of time.
Please let that be it.
I press the bell and jump out of the seat, working my way to the front. My foot taps impatiently as the driver slows to a stop. I barely wait for the doors to swoosh open before catapulting myself out of them and onto the busy sidewalk. Aidan’s compound lies three blocks to the west, and my feet automatically turn that way, breaking into a run and shouting at people to get out of the way.
The ten-foot iron gates loom before me, and I stop at the booth to tell the guard my name. Only, there is no guard. My chest heaves as I suck in air, fighting the swelling panic. Sinister told me a guard is always on duty, so where is he?
The metal handrail creaks as I pull myself up the steep stairs and peer through the window. The blood-splattered window. Jesus fucking Christ. A man lies on the floor of the small booth, his chest riddled with bullets.
My mouth dries as I clamber down the stairs and walk over to the gates. Whoever killed the guard didn’t close them all the way. I push against one, straining to force it to open just enough for me to slip through. Ahead of me is a quarter-of-a-mile winding driveway, surrounded by green lawns and lined with trees. The compound rises three stories at the end of it, with two lookout towers at each side.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!Every part of me wants to run forward and burst inside. I know Sinister’s in there. I just do. But there’s only one of me, and besides the couple of knives I’ve tucked into my pockets, I’m not armed.
And I can’t walk into a gunfight with a knife.
Indecision locks me in place. What the fuck do I do?Breathe, Wren.
I slip back out of the gate and lean against the wall surrounding the compound. There’s no way I can do this alone. There’s no telling how many people are inside, if any. If anyone is alive. If Sin…No. Just no.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and click on the bloody kiss. “Pick up. Please, pick up.” The screen clears, and I almost cry with relief. “Hello?”
One heartbeat, two heartbeats, three.
“Dolly? What’s wrong?” Cruz, Dutch’s husband, asks. He moves into the frame and sits down. I can’t help it. Tears mist my eyes before sliding down my cheeks. Asking for help isn’t something I’m comfortable with, but I need it now, and I can’t let past traumas prevent me from doing what I need to.
“Cruz, I need help. Please. Something’s happened to Sinister.” I explain about the dead guard and my intuition telling me he’s in trouble. “I don’t have adequate weapons, and I need back-up. Are you guys still in Australia?”
Cruz nods. “Yeah, we’ll be here for some time yet.” His brows furrow, and he turns his head to the left. “Trey, do you know where The Duke is?” he calls out. “Just a minute, Dolly.” He gets up and moves off screen.
My back slides down the wall, and I land in the soft grass. Minutes tick by, and with each one, my anxiety ramps up further. I pound my fist on my thigh and blow out breaths, willing myself to calm down. Sinister needs me to be functional, not a blubbering mess. If he saw me right now, he’d be disappointed in me.
That thought makes me sit up straighter and dash away the tears. I survived my parents’ deaths. The loss of my home. The supposed death of my brother. I lived through countless assaults, torture, and starvation.
I can get through this.
Cruz comes back onto the screen and gives me a smile. “You’re in luck. The Duke is about an hour away with her team. Trey pinged your location and sent it to her. Don’t worry, help is on the way. Sit tight, okay? The girls send their love.”
“Thank you,” I say. “If we can ever return the favor?—”
“We’ll let you know. Good luck, Dolly.” The screen goes blank, and I tuck the phone back in my pocket. All I can do now is wait.
I hearthem before I see them. A dark-gray helicopter appears in the distance, and I head back through the gates and stand on the grass, covering my eyes with my hand as it comes closer. The force of the wind makes me brace, the vibrations running through me and making me tremble.
It lands about two hundred feet from me, and once the blades stop whirring, a woman jumps out of the front and strides toward me. She has long blonde hair and wears all-black military-style clothing. A coiled whip wraps around her shoulder, and she walks like a fucking boss.
I nearly snap to attention and salute her. Thank God I stop myself at the last second.
Six men tumble out of the back of the helicopter and join us. They, too, are dressed all in black, and I’m relieved to see them packing guns, knives, and what looks like gas canisters.
“Dolly? I’m The Duke. I hear you’re in need of help. Can you tell me the situation?”
“I don’t know. My…boyfriend, Sinister, has been missing for almost two days. His phone goes straight to voicemail, and when I arrived here, I found the guard dead athis post.” I point toward the gate. “Oh, and the gate was left open. I can’t say for sure he’s inside, or if he is, who else is in there. I-I don’t even know if he’s alive,” I finish with a whisper.
