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I raced back through the foyer, hearing someone pounding on the door, while I heard the locks twist. Instinct told me to open the front door for them, but then I spotted blood on the floor, trailing down toward the kitchen.

They’d hurt him. Or kill him. I ran—down the hallway, behind the stairs, and into the dark kitchen.

The glass doors stood open on the other side of the island, and rain whipped in the wind caught in the funnel of the enclosed garden. Trees bent to nearly breaking point, and one of the doors banged against the wall.

Where are you?

All of a sudden, I was grabbed from behind and hauled back, an arm wrapping around my shoulders.

I gasped.

“You don’t love him, do you?” Damon asked, something wet touching my temple. “Because I’m about to make you a widow.”

A widow? I opened my mouth to speak, but then my hand brushed his other one hanging at my side, my fingers grazing the cold, steel barrel. A cry stretched my throat.

I turned my head, seeing blood matting his hair and dripping down the left side of his face. “Damon, what do you want?” I whispered.

And then I heard the front door whip open, echoing through the house, and I closed my eyes. “Please,” I begged. “Please, don’t. Please, just leave. Run.”

“I raised you better than that,” he bit out, spinning me around and gripping my shirt at the collar. “It was supposed to be us, Nik. Just us.”

“If you just wanted me, we would’ve been gone when you got out of prison last year,” I said, hearing Kai and the guys charge through the house. “What do you really want?”

Anger burned through his eyes. He glared at me, but I caught something else flash for a split-second, too. As if he was ashamed of the real answer.

He dropped his voice, replying, “I just want it to be how it used to be.” His eyes fell, but then he raised them again, the ice back in his stare. “And if I can’t have that, then I’ll make damn sure no one will ever be rid of me.”

He pushed me backward, and I stumbled, turning around. Gripping my shoulder, he forced me through the open doors and into the courtyard.

Fuck, what do I do? My instinct told me to fight. Turn around, attack, and then run. But that wouldn’t stop him or Kai from getting hurt.

What the hell would I do if it came down to one or the other?

“Get your fucking hands off her!” I heard Kai shout.

Damon whipped me around, putting me in front of him with an arm around my shoulders again. The icy rain drenched our clothes, and I blinked through the downpour, seeing Kai, Michael, and Will race into the courtyard.

Kai’s eyes fell to my brother’s hand, and I knew he saw the weapon.

“You won’t hurt her,” he told him. “I know you won’t.”

“I’ve been hurting her for eleven years.” Damon tightened his fist on the back of my shirt. “There’s not much I wouldn’t do.”

Kai remained still, his anger faltering. He wasn’t sure if my brother was bluffing, but he wasn’t certain he wasn’t. Not enough, anyway.

“Where are Lev and David?” Kai asked me.

“He tied them up in the basement.”

“And Rika and Alex?” Michael burst out.

“I sent them through the passageway.”

Kai turned to Michael. “The house down the hill. Go!”

Michael bolted back through the house, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I still didn’t know where the other two masked helpers of Damon’s were at. Hopefully they bolted.

“Hey, man.” Damon’s tone turned gentler. “Missed you.”


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance