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I needed to tread lightly where he was concerned.

The man was an expert sharpshooter.

Maxim was typing something into his phone as we listened.

“You are just like them. Both of you are.”

“Bullseye, I am trying to stop this mess. Please come in and let us help you. Your brothers are worried about you.”

“No. I did it their way before. Now, I am doing things my way. She is on the Andromeda. You have ten minutes before I take matters into my hands.”

The line went dead.

My heart was beating so fast I feared it would never settle. Looking at my watch, I knew there was no way we would make it to the port in ten minutes. Traffic was at a standstill.

“Who was that?” Maxim asked, his hand over the speaker of his phone.

“Your nephew.”

39

Layla

Fear was something I learned at a young age when I walked too far away from home. I don’t know how long I spent wandering the woods, but as darkness fell, so did my belief that my mother and brother would find me. That night, I never felt a cold so bitter that it tore into my bones. I felt a hunger so painful it hurt to think about, but what scared me the most was the darkness as it surrounded me.

When I was found, I was never so happy to see my mom and brother, and for months afterward, I found myself sneaking into Dylan’s bed just so I wouldn’t be alone. For years I honestly believed he kept the darkness away from me.

I don’t know what made me think of that particular time of my life, but as the darkness started to envelop me, I wanted nothing more for Dylan to wrap his arms around me. To protect me once again.

Unimaginable pain washed over me as Jekyll slapped me hard across the face. The man wasn’t one for speaking. He preferred his fist to do the talking. When his hand collided with my face, I felt something snap in my cheek. Searing pain radiated from the spot, causing me to moan.

“He is going to kill her.”

Diablo shook his head. “No, he won’t. Now, he will punish her for running away from him, but he won’t kill her.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Not my problem. He is her husband, after all. I would never come between a man and his bitch.”

Huh?

What were they talking about?

I wasn’t married to Jekyll.

I’d rather slit my own throat than marry that fucker.

Moaning, I shook my head.

“Does she know? Cause it doesn’t seem like she does?”

“Because I’m not married you mother fucker,” I barely said through the pain.

“Oh, dear daughter. Did Jekyll fail to tell you? He married you right there in that dingy motel on the side of the road in California. And as soon as the preacher named you man and cunt, your husband was so overjoyed. He bedded you right then and there, in front of the good reverend.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head.

I refused to believe it.


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Crime