We follow Diesel—the bodyguard’s team lead, a guy who was flown here especially to help out and a veteran of countless covert ops—around the side of the garden, inching toward the outside entrance to the basement level. It’s telling this part of the basement can only be accessed from outside and it’s cut off from the main basement part of the house. God only knows what kind of sick, morally corrupt shit has gone down in here.
Blood rushes to my head as we wait for Mathers to make an appearance, and I’m getting more antsy by the minute. Every second I’m away from my wife is sheer hell, and I just want this to be over.
Two shadowy forms round the corner, and I stop breathing. Mathers says something to his bodyguard before climbing down the stairs and disappearing. The burly bodyguard stands in front of the steps with his arms crossed, scanning the surrounding grounds.
“What the fuck, man?” I hiss, digging Diesel in the back.
“Stay calm,” Diesel advises, and I flip him the bird behind his back.
“You fucking calm down,” I hiss. “That’s my wife down there, and I don’t want her left alone with that prick for a solitary second.”
The guard standing watch at the stairs lifts his hand, making a two-fingered salute.
“And we’re a go.” Diesel scoots forward, crouching down, sticking to the shadows. There are other guards manning the exterior of the property, and it’s imperative we’re not caught.
“Last room at the end of the hallway,” the guard says as we move past him.
“Thanks, Johnson.” Diesel slaps him on the back.
I’m guessing he’s our spy.
“Walk slowly, avoid any debris in the corridor that might alert him to our presence, and stay back until I confirm it’s all clear,” Diesel instructs before carefully and quietly opening the door.
We slip inside, and the instant I hear Nessa scream, I take off like a bat out of hell, pushing Diesel out of my way as I blatantly ignore his command, racing down the hallway, past several closed doors on both sides, barreling my way into the room.
“Get the fuck away from my wife,” I roar, lunging at Mathers. His pants are bunched around his ankles, his dick bobbing from side to side, which gives me an advantage. I throw myself at him, knocking him to the floor and pounding my fists into his face as the fucker laughs.
What is with these delusional assholes laughing in the face of death?
“Lauder.” Diesel hauls me to my feet, and his snippy tone confirms he’s pissed.
Oops. Guess he’s not used to men disobeying his orders.
“Nessa needs you,” Anderson says. “We’ve got this.”
I race to my wife’s side, kneeling beside her and wrapping my arms around her slim form as Hunt works to untie her hands. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Her shirt is ripped down the front, exposing her bra, one side of her face is bruised, and there’s a goose egg on her left temple and a few cuts to her lips. Despite her obvious injuries, her eyes are bright and lucid.
“No. You got here in time.” She pecks my lips, wincing a little. “I knew you would.”
I rest my forehead against hers as Hunt removes her hands, carefully lowering her arms to her sides. “Christ, this was like déjà vu,” I admit. “Hanging around outside while you were hurting. I promised I’d never let that happen again. I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Shush, Jackson. You have nothing to apologize for. This isn’t your fault, and you got to me in time. They were planning on sending me someplace and selling me as a sex slave.”
Behind us, the guys are working to restrain Mathers. We need to get off this property ASAP before any of his men notice us.
“Move out,” Diesel commands, a few seconds later, and I watch as the other two bodyguards drag Mathers from the room. His hands are securely cuffed behind his back. A thick silver chain runs from his hands down along his body, linking to the cuffs around his ankles. There’s a cloth bag over his head, and considering he’s now mute, I’m guessing they gagged him.
“We need to leave,” Diesel says to me. “You good?”
“We’re good,” I say, lifting Nessa into my arms.
Anderson and Hunt flank me on either side as we flee Mather’s property.
I only relax when we’re back in the car, putting miles between us and the monster’s house.
We drive for an hour, pulling into a neglected warehouse on the outskirts of some hick town. Our spy, Johnson, located the place in advance, and it’s been prepped for us.
Nessa is asleep in my arms, and I wish I could whisk her back home, clean her up, and tuck her into bed, but we need to deal with Mathers now, because bringing him back to MA is risky as fuck.
“We’ll stay with her,” Hunt says before I’ve even asked the question. “You and Anderson need to do this.”
Nodding, I kiss Nessa on the forehead before following Anderson out of the SUV and into the derelict building.
Diesel has Mathers securely tied to a chair, and his face is already awash with blood.
“Tell us what we want to know, and we’ll make this quick and painless,” Diesel is saying.
I snort the same time Anderson does. Yeah, I don’t think so. This bastard needs a solid beating and gutting like Montgomery. And we already know he’ll tell us jackshit.
We stand behind Diesel watching and listening as he peppers Mathers with question after question about the elite and other stuff that means nothing to us. All the bastard does is smirk and laugh. After five minutes, Diesel gives up, knowing a lost cause when he sees it. “He’s all yours, boys. We’ll wait for you outside.”
“Boys,” Mathers says, spitting out blood in the process. “Everyone knows that’s all you are.”
Anderson cracks his knuckles, ready to inflict damage. “Do I look like I give a fuck, old man?” Kai rams his fist into Mathers’s face with such power he sends him flying back, the chair toppling to the ground.
I yank him up by the shirt, repositioning the chair on the ground, before I pummel my fists into his chest, only stopping when I hear the telltale cracking of bones.
Anderson throws another few punches to his face and lower torso as I strip the bastard naked. Let him see what it’s like to be humiliated and beaten to death.
Unsheathing my knife, I trace the tip of my finger along the cool edge of the blade. I press it against Mathers’s balls. “I ripped Montgomery’s balls to shreds before I sliced off his dick. He bled out like a motherfucker, squealing like a pig, as I gutted him until there was nothing but a mangled, bloody mess on the floor.” Leaning down, I put my face right up in Mathers’s face. “I was going to do the same to you, but my skills are advancing.”
“We’re gonna cut you up nice and good,” Anderson adds. “But we won’t kill you like that.”
I lift the can of gasoline, shaking it in front of his face, silently fist pumping the air when his eyes pop wide and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.
He can’t disguise his fear now as realization dawns—he knows he’s not getting out of here alive.
“We’ll dig a nice big hole in that chest of yours,” I say, poking the tip of my knife into his flesh. His anguished roar is music to my ears. “And then, we’re gonna set you on fire.”
“And watch you burn alive until there is nothing but charred remains,” Anderson adds.
“You won’t get away with this,” he seethes. “I’m a founding father! You can’t kill me and expect to go unpunished.”
“I killed Montgomery, and I’m still here to tell the tale.” I trail the knife down his chest as footsteps thud on the floor behind me.
“Hamilton will never stand for this!” he shrieks.
“Hamilton thinks you’re a loose cannon,” Nessa says, coming up behind me. “He’ll probably thank us for cleaning up the mess—especially when he discovers you were planning to deceive and kill him.” Her fingers curl around the knife, and I straighten up, cupping her face.
“You sure you want to do this?”
; She nods. “I didn’t get the opportunity with Aaron, and I was barely conscious with Montgomery.”
I peer into her eyes. “Babe. This isn’t something you forget in a hurry.” I know what I’m talking about. I still have flashbacks to Trent and Christian. I have no regrets about what I did, but the fact I’ve murdered two men still plays on my mind. It’s not something I’ll ever forget, but I figure that’s probably a good thing.
“I need to do this for me. The nightmares can’t be any worse than what I already deal with.”
Nessa looks at Anderson. “Is this okay with you?” I know why she’s asking. She knows Anderson wants vengeance for Abby as much as I want this for her.
He folds his arms across his chest, bobbing his head once. “Do it for Abby too.”
Nessa nods, and Anderson and I step back to let her work. She circles Mathers, sneering as her eyes roam his naked body.
Blood spurts when she cuts off his nipples, and his tormented screams bounce off the empty walls of the warehouse, going nowhere, because there is no one but us here to listen. She goes to town on his balls, plunging the knife in over and over again until there’s nothing left but shredded skin. She doesn’t touch his cock as she slices it clear off, and then, she rips through his chest, venting all her pain, anger, and frustration as she tears him to shreds.
She screams and shouts as she brutalizes him, and maybe, I shouldn’t support this, but she fucking needs it. She’s not just killing Mathers here today—she’s killing Montgomery and Breen too.
When the frenzy stops, she stands upright, swiping her arm along her brow. “Check to see if he has a pulse. I refuse to touch him.”
Anderson presses his fingers to his bloody neck, nodding. Nessa grabs the can from the table, wordlessly handing it to my best friend. Then, she joins me, stripping out of her bloody clothes as we watch Anderson douse a moaning Mathers with gasoline. Removing my top, I put it on my wife. It only barely covers her panties, but it’ll have to do until we find somewhere to stop and freshen up.
“Burn in hell, motherfucker,” Anderson says, setting Mathers’s body alight.
We watch from a safe distance until the fire dies out and all that’s left are charred remains and dust on the debris-strewn ground.
_______________
It’s a little after seven a.m. when we eventually crawl into our own bed after showering away the final remnants of last night. We are both exhausted, and Nessa is covered in bruises, but she’s not complaining even though she’s got to be sore. “Take these, babe. They are homeopathic pain pills I picked up from this woman Sylvia recommends.” I bought them a couple weeks ago to have on hand because Nessa refuses to take regular pain pills.
She sits up, fighting a grimace, popping the pills, and washing them down with a glass of water. I grab the lotion from my bedside table. “I also have arnica cream if you want me to put that on.”
She slides back into the bed, wincing a little. “There’s only one thing I need. Your arms around me.”
“I think I can manage that.” I’m careful not to hold her too tight as I hug her to me. She rests her head on my chest and her arm on my leg. “You doing okay?” I ask before kissing the top of her head.
“I am,” she quietly admits, looking up at me. “I was kinda crazy back there.”
“If you’re crazy, then, so am I.”
“Is it crazy to admit I feel lighter?”
“No. I think it’s only natural.”
“I should feel remorse or guilt though, right? I mean, I killed someone tonight, and I don’t feel bad about it at all.”
“Why would you? He hurt you, and he’d planned even worse things for you. He hurt countless people. He was a complete bastard, and the world is a better place without him.”
“He was a monster,” she whispers, snuggling into my chest. “And I’m not sorry he’s dead.”
“Two monsters down,” I say.
“And many more to come,” she adds in a matter-of-fact voice. “But we’ll be ready for them, and no one is taking me from you or you from me.” She stares into my eyes with loving adoration and fierce determination as she laces her fingers in mine. “It’s me and you against the world, Jackson, and we will always win because we’re an unbreakable team.”
EPILOGUE
Vanessa
Three months later . . .
“ARE YOU NERVOUS?” I ask my husband as we get closer to our destination. We’ve been driving across the state for an hour with the top down on Jackson’s BMW, appreciating the sunny day. It’s not usually this warm at the end of March, but we’re not complaining as it’s made for a more enjoyable spring break.
Every morning, we run on the beach before enjoying a brisk swim in the ocean. Our days have been spent relaxing around the house—in between redecorating, because now my name is on the deeds I’m determined to stamp my mark on our home—and savoring long lunches by the pool, and most nights, we get together with our friends for dinner, either at one of our houses or one of Rydeville’s top restaurants.
It’s the most relaxed we’ve been in ages, and I never want this week to end.
“I’m not sure I can properly explain how I’m feeling,” Jackson says, moving his hand to my knee.
I rub soothing circles on the back of his hand with my thumb. “Whatever Selena has to tell us, we’ll get through it together.”
Keven Kennedy didn’t find any evidence confirming Dani was held on Senator Allen’s island, but he has identified some links between the elite and Allen’s crew, which the FBI are looking into on the QT. True to his word, Keven spoke to his sister-in-law, Selena, about her time as a sex slave on the island, and she agreed to meet with us.
So, here we are. En route to rendezvous with Selena and her husband Keanu at the sanctuary they are building for survivors of sexual abuse.
“I’m scared she’ll confirm Dani was there,” Jackson admits. “Because I watched Selena’s interview on 60 Minutes, and the things that girl endured were heartbreaking. The thoughts of Dani being treated like that…” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and pain races across his handsome face.
I squeeze his hand in solidarity, understanding how difficult this day is for him. “We can always turn around. It’s okay to change your mind.” I remind him of his options, even though I know he won’t back down. Not knowing the full story has been killing my husband, and I firmly believe he needs to understand what happened to his sister to properly move on.
“I’ve considered it,” he says, removing his hand from mine and placing it on the wheel as we take a sharp left turn. “But I’d always wonder what she knows. As much as it might kill me to hear it, I want the truth. I need it.” His expression is somber when he looks at me, but the usual love and adoration glistens in his eyes. “I couldn’t do this without you. Thanks for being here.”
“I will always be by your side, Jackson. There is nowhere else I ever want to be.” I lean across the console and kiss his cheek. “I love you.”
“Love you too, babe.” A reverential smile graces his delectable mouth, helping to relieve some of the mounting anxiety.
I settle back in my seat, watching the pretty landscape flash by. We can’t be too far away now. “Abby told me Kai’s younger brothers received invitations to the next elite initiation program,” I say, thinking it might help to switch the subject.
“I know. He called this morning to tell me. He’s spitting blood.”
“Can’t we do anything? Maybe, another conversation needs to happen with Hamilton.”
Thankfully, Abby and I didn’t have to attend initiation. Hamilton confirmed the new female rule will only apply to single woman descendants of founding families. If you are married, your husband assumes the responsibility, as is the tradition, and that’s what has happened in our cases. But it doesn’t bode well for other women even if the initiation program the guys attended was a formal program with no nefarious tasks required. Hamilton is going to huge trouble to legitimize the proc
ess and the order, but we all know it’s bullshit. We know things will change once the full spotlight is off the elite.
“You heard what he said at the meeting in January,” Jackson says, signaling to turn right. “He’s playing ball provided we don’t interfere in official elite business. We could try and influence him, but I doubt it’ll do any good. He can’t be seen to make allowances as it sets a precedent, plus it would indicate he’s made some deal with us. We’re not popular within the elite because of what went down last year in Wyoming. We may be full members now, but we’re still on the outside. Hamilton won’t do anything to draw attention to the fact he’s negotiated an agreement with us.”
“We should’ve made that a condition of our truce at the time,” I murmur. “Why didn’t we?”
“Protecting your life was our number one goal and getting him to agree to drop his agenda against us was the other. There is no way he would’ve agreed to anything else. Not when he knows we took out Montgomery and Mathers, and he was in the audience when I shot Trent.”
“He has no proof. We told him Montgomery was alive and well when I left Lanzarote and that Mathers took off into hiding once you rescued me, because he knew the cat was out of the bag, that we’d tell Hamilton of his plot to kill him and take the presidency.”
“Hamilton didn’t buy that, babe. That whole conversation was a farce, but it fulfilled its purpose, and that’s all that matters.”
“He could still come after me.” Bile pools at the base of my throat. “I know he approved of Mathers’s plans for me. That he wanted me sold ASAP. How does he know I won’t go to the media or the police?”
“He doesn’t, which is why he’ll uphold the truce, for now. He knows if he comes after us that we have him on that. He knows it would incite another war with us. He doesn’t need it when things are still tentative within the order. He needs peace to foster loyalty. He won’t risk anything right now.”
“But he could come after us in the future.”
Jackson takes my hand, squeezing my fingers. “Babe, you’re safe. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. We have that entire meeting recorded thanks to Techxet’s fucking genius technology.” A shit-eating grin crosses his mouth. “Hamilton thought he was the bomb frisking us, thinking he was safe to talk freely.” He chuckles. “The look on his face when Anderson played it back at the end of the meeting was priceless. Trust me, he won’t be doing anything to push our buttons. That tape will hang him.”
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