DAHLIA ALDRIDGE
I knew something was wrong the moment I woke up.
Largely because of the cold metal pressed against my temple. My eyes flung open, and I nearly let out a scream. I wasn’t positive who I expected to see holding a gun against my temple, but it certainly wasn’t the head of our security.
Owen had been a part of my life as long as I could remember. I hadn’t interacted with him a ton, but the sharp sting of betrayal as tears started to leak down my face was authentic. What the hell was going on?
When he motioned for me to sit up without a word, I did so, a light turning on as I curled in against myself. Owen stayed completely silent, his eyes filled with regret. It was almost eerie how quiet it was, and I knew if I made a sound before I was supposed to, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me. There may have been regret there, but there was also resignation.
My gaze snapped to the side, my eyes widening as I prayed to the lord that I was imagining what I was seeing…who I was seeing. That he wasn’t sitting in a chair facing my bed, his eyes filled with amusement and a manic darkness that made me feel extremely uncomfortable.
“My, my, my.” Chills went down my spine as Max Brooks’s voice filled the room. “What an opportune time I seem to have caught you at, Dahlia. The boys are out of the house, and here you are, defenseless. Couldn’t have gone better even if I’d planned it…which I did.” Something about his words felt off, and I knew that after everything, there was no way my boys would have left me. My eyes darted up to the camera I knew that Yates had in here as I swallowed, trying to decide how to handle this.
“What do you want?” I demanded softly. I didn’t bother to scream or anything like that. The once relaxing breeze from the balcony door was now cold on my frame, and I felt vulnerable in just the sleep shirt I wore. My body was hurting more than before, but the medicine from earlier was still making everything a bit more hazy than normal.
Shit. That was really, really bad.
“What I’ve always wanted.” He sighed, almost in disappointment, before standing. I let out a small panicked sound as he raised a gun, holding my breath as he clicked off the safety. “Go, Owen. Keep watch in the hallway. I have this handled,” Max bit out.
The man offered me a look before grunting and pulling his gun away from my temple, my form shrinking as Max moved closer to me. His smile turned gross. “We have his daughter tied up in my basement, you know that? It’s amazing, the things you can convince a man to do when his child’s life is in danger.”
We?Who waswe?
“You are the lowest scum,” I spit out.
He chuckled softly, his gun pressing right to the middle of my forehead.God, I was so tired of having guns pointed at me.“You have no idea, Dahlia. But you will, especially because you and I are going to have some alone time before I have to kill you.”
“Kill me?”
His eyes flashed with heat. “Yes, you were supposed to die in that explosion. I tried to get you out of there—I would have hid you, kept you safe and let them believe you died… But now… Well, now I have to kill you.”
“Why?” I swallowed nervously as his other hand darted out to grip my throat, pushing me onto my back as he kept the gun pressed to my head. Sweat broke out across my body as tears continued to crowd my eyes.
“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged casually, but I could see that he was nearly shaking with tension. “I said I would handle it, and now I will. Then they will let her go—”
“Let who go?” I breathed out, hoping to keep him distracted, ignoring the way his eyes moved over my trapped frame.
“Does it really matter?” he responded lazily.
“Max, did something happen to Abby?” I felt like it was the only reasonable explanation.
A growl broke from his throat. “Yes, something happened to her, because of you, you bitch!” He seemed to gather himself before chuckling like a mad man. “But that will all be over soon. See, you can’t do anything to hurt Dixon Glenn—he’s well protected by the Denim Moths, no less, so I have to do this. I don’t have an option because he is hell-bent on taking everything he is owed…and I find myself planning to do the same.”
A whimper caught in my throat as he ran a hand down my body, groping me, as he pressed the metal more firmly against me. His intentions were clear, and I felt fear course through my veins as I realized what he planned to do. What he meant by getting what he’s ‘owed.’ I completely froze, not wanting to make a move too fast. His finger could slip on that trigger so easily.
When he pushed my shirt up, though, panic surged through me, my breathing increasing rapidly as a full scream broke from my throat.
I expected the gun to go off, but it didn’t. He slapped me so hard across the face that I saw stars, closing my eyes and curling in on myself. “You fucking bitch, you have to ruin everything—”
Which is how I missed the chaos that broke out.
Gunfire sounded in the room as windows shattered, and an almost inhuman roar filled the space. I whimpered as the gun was ripped away from my head and Max’s presence was quickly removed from my body, allowing me to sag in relief. A sob came out of my throat as I heard my men around me. I let out a staggering breath as I fell, familiar hands gripping me and keeping me from completely crashing onto the floor. My men were trying to speak to me—to soothe me, to ask if I was hurt—but I couldn’t focus on them. My world narrowed to King as I watched him absolutely detonate.
There would have been a lot of ways to kill Max…but King had a blunt object, a piece of decor from my console table, that he was continuously using to bash in Max’s face. My eyes widened in shock at the very clear void of emotion or rage, and I found myself breaking out of the hold that was around me, Yates telling me to not go to him. I couldn’t listen though. My ears were filled with white noise, and when King finally took out a gun and shot Max in the face seven times, it silenced everything.
The mangled corpse at his feet didn’t remotely resemble the man who had just tried to rape me. I crawled towards King, not caring about the blood, as he fell to his knees, dropping the gun and blunt object. I gripped his face when I got to him, whispering soothing words, as his gaze met mine.
I knew Kingston was still in there…but I wasn’t positive what it would take this time to pull him back.