Glancing over Bastian’s arm, I couldn’t take my eyes off Damian. He stared through me like a true hunter. Until tonight, I had been the hunted, his prey. He still scared the fucking shit out of me, but at least I knew he would protect me.
I knew he was on my side.
He smiled as the man took his last breath. Damian seemed way too pleased with himself. Like he enjoyed the sight of blood.
Bastian’s lips pressed into a thin line as he scanned my face for bruises, gliding his fingers over the blood on my cheek. “You’re lucky we were on our way home from Beacon Bay.”
“I guess I should thank my captors for killing my almost rapist.”
“Don’t give me that attitude,” Bastian snapped. “You are one of us now. And that means people will hurt you to get to us.”
“He said your family took everything from his.”
He grinned. “They got what they deserved.”
“He also said no one will want to bid on me. Do you know what he meant?”
Bastian shook his head, but he refused to meet my gaze like he was lying to me. “Nah. Don’t worry yourself with unnecessary details.”
I was still too out of it to carry on a decent conversation. So I didn’t bother to ask what they had done to push him to want to rape me.
“We’re taking you home,” Bastian said.
“What about the body?”
He traced his fingers down my bare arms. “We’ll deal with him later.”
Damian rose to his feet and wiped the knife off on his shirt, staring at me with a strange look on his face.
“What?” I asked him.
No response.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
Bastian wrapped me in his warm embrace. “Don’t poke the dragon, Cherry.”
Damian sliced open a man’s throat as if it were nothing, like he wasn’t even a person. I was thankful he saved me, but at what cost? He just fucking murdered someone in cold blood.
Did he even hesitate?
Did he enjoy killing people?
Bastian’s cell phone rang, and he raised it to his ear. “Yeah, we got Alex. One of Volkov’s men almost raped her. How the fuck did you let this happen? Luca is going to kill you.”
It must have been Marcello on the phone, frantic when I didn’t return our table.
After Bastian hung up, he placed his big palm on my back. “Let’s go home. We need to clean you up.”
Without another word, I let Bastian guide me through the woods and back to his Porsche. I sat on Damian’s lap in the two-seater, disgusted by the feel of blood on our clothes and skin. I tried not to think about it too much as we drove in silence.
Bastian floored the gas pedal into The Hills, up the steep incline toward the guarded gate that separated Founders Way from the rest of Devil’s Creek. We blew through the front gate at the Salvatore Estate that was manned by armed soldiers. The tires screeched as we came to a stop in front of a garage that housed dozens of exotic cars.
There wasn’t a single car worth less than a hundred thousand dollars. Not like that was much of a surprise. The Salvatores owned global companies worth billions of dollars. And Bastian and Damian were the youngest billionaires in Forbes’ history.
Damian hadn’t spoken a single word. He didn’t even seem the least bit bothered by what just happened. In fact, he looked somewhat excited.
Did murder turn him on?