I step past Liesel. I’m coming, Kai. Just don’t do anything to get yourself hurt.
I need to kill Milo. I’ve wanted to since the first day I met him and saw him look at Kai, but I couldn’t because Milo’s empire isn’t about him. It will survive long after Milo’s death. And I don’t know who his successor is. I don’t know who will come at us after Milo is gone. And that person could be worse than Milo.
I thought I was protecting Kai by trying to keep her out of this fight. But I should have known better.
We love each other. I would give my life for her. The only way to keep her safe and protect that love is to tell her the truth. To be honest and share everything. And then to take down our enemies together. Even if it will kill me to watch her fight by my side.
But every time I’ve tried to protect her myself, it backfires on me.
I can’t keep doing that.
Kai has a plan, and I’ll do my best to stick to it. It might be the only way to earn her trust. But even if her plan works, even if we kill Milo and get her out unscathed, I’m not sure it will be enough.
19
&nbs
p; Kai
I think I hate planes now worse than yachts.
The plane ride lasted forever.
At least that’s what it feels like when I don’t know if Enzo is alive or dead.
The second I overheard Milo talking about blowing up Surrender, I sent a broken message to Liesel.
But my Morse code isn’t the best. And I’m not sure I sent it correctly or not. I’m not sure if Liesel is alive or dead. The same with Enzo and Langston or any of the other loyal men in the club.
My heart feels heavy and disconnected. I would permanently feel numb if Enzo were dead—my connection gone.
He’s alive; he has to be.
But that’s the problem with these damned earrings. They are helpful, but not enough. I can communicate with them, but they can’t communicate with me.
The plane circled overhead of Surrender until it was finished. Milo wanted to watch the explosion. What he was looking for, I don’t know, but he seemed happy and satisfied as we flew away. We made one stop to pick up a doctor.
I must have looked pretty pale and weak for Milo to pick up a doctor to help me.
But all the doctor did was give me some blood through an IV in my arm. He didn’t set my dislocated shoulder. He didn’t dress or bandage any of my cuts. He didn’t examine my leg. He didn’t give me any pain medication, although I don’t want the medication. I don’t want to feel numb to the pain. The pain drives me.
All the doctor did was keep me alive.
And that’s enough.
The drive to Milo’s house seems almost as long as the plane ride. Getting jostled in the back seat of an SUV with a dislocated shoulder is the definition of hell, even with the makeshift sling I’m wearing.
But Enzo is safe.
That’s what I keep reminding myself.
And soon the bastard in the front seat will be dead.
We get to the mansion and Milo walks ahead, while I follow. He doesn’t tie me up or force me to follow. He just knows I will.
Then Milo leads me downstairs, and I panic. I want to stay in the light. I don’t want to hide in the darkness.
But I follow because I need him to trust me. I need him to bring me into his world so I can take down his walls and stab his heart.