My head drops into my hands, feeling completely helpless. “She was right there in my fucking arms,” I tell him. “How could she just be taken like that?”
“You know Skylah, Cruz. She wouldn’t have left without a fight, unless…”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Unless she was trying to protect someone she loves.”
He doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t need to. I already know. The only way Lucien would have gotten her out of the house without her making a single sound would be if either mine or Shaylee’s life was at stake, and considering the knife on her bedroom floor and the spilled water by the door, I’d dare say it was mine.
Lucien would have killed his own flesh and blood just to get Skylah back. That’s fucking sick.
Pulling myself up from the curb, I blink back the sting in my eyes. There’s no point sitting here and crying about it. All I’m doing is wasting time, precious fucking time. I’m never going to get her back like this. I have to save her. I have to get her home. I’m her only shot.
“What’s the address?” I ask, heading back to my home at a jog and tearing through the front door in search of my keys.
“I…I’m sorry, Slade. I can’t. Believe me, this is my fucking sister we’re talking about. She saved my ass more times than I can count. No one wants her safe more than me,” Blake says with a strange hesitation that seems to tear him up. “But you’re the only shot we have of getting her home. If you run in there with your fucking ego, demanding her back… it’ll be a fucking suicide mission. He’ll kill you. I can guarantee it. We need to play this smart.”
“I don’t have time for smart,” I roar down the line. “Give me the fucking address.”
Blake sighs. “I’m sorry, man. I can’t. You getting killed is not part of the plan. She didn’t go willingly just for you to get killed anyway. Just trust that she’ll run the second she has a chance. She’ll come back to us…”
“TRUST? That motherfucker isn’t going to let her out of his sight. She’ll be raped or fucking married before she even gets a shot at running.” I stride back out my door and over to my truck. “I’m going to find that fucker’s address with or without you, Blake. I’m going. If it means giving my life for her, I’ll fucking do it. Don’t make me resent you for the rest of our lives. Help me give her a shot at freedom.”
“Fuck, Slade,” Blake groans, breathing heavily and clearly conflicted. “Don’t make me regret this.”
I climb up into my truck and as I start her up, Blake finally gives me what I need and hangs up, begging me to get his sister home.
I throw my phone down on the passenger seat and within seconds, I peel away from the curb and shoot down the street, passing Shay as she sobs in the street, head in her hands as her world falls to pieces.
Chapter 2
Pain rocks through me as Lucien’s hand slaps hard across my face. I gasp, forcing myself not to cry out. He grabs me and I bite down on my lip.
I will be strong. I will not give up.
I’m pushed up the stairs, struggling against his tight grip as he forces me through the house I grew up in. The last time I was here…shit. It’s not a time I ever want to remember.
I’m jostled left and right, stumbling up the grand staircase. My head spins. It’s roughly an eight-hour car trip fro Aston Creek and I only regained consciousness as Lucien drove through the gates of hell, but considering I was dripping wet and cold, I’d dare say that he threw water over me, forcing me to wake.
My body aches from being shoved into the backseat and my head is pounding from the way Lucien slammed the butt of his gun down over my temple. Despite the pain, all I can think about is the image of Slade peacefully asleep as Lucien pointed his gun at his head, ready and willing to shoot him.
Lucien finally gets me to the top of the stairs but it’s not done without the added twist of my arm, pull of my hair, and fingers biting painfully down into my skin. He gives me a hard shove, forcing me down the hallway towards my old bedroom.
I shake my head. I can’t go in there. I can’t be forced into the same bed where he stole my innocence. The sheets probably haven’t even been changed. There’s most likely dried blood from where he beat me and his DNA spread all over the sheets.
The thought has me choking back vomit.
I just want to go home and be in Slade’s arms but I know that’ll never happen. I’m never getting out of here, never knowing peace again. I’d give anything to be able to tell him goodbye. I can only imagine what he’s thinking right now. He’ll only just be waking up to realize that I’m gone.