by Lucy Smoke
"The guys are missing," I cut him off, breathless as I push down on the
gas even harder and swerve around a creeping sedan. The dial on the
speedometer creeps up to ninety and then past it. "Avalon isn't picking up her
phone." Fuck, I don't know what to do. "I know who's been trying to hurt her.
I know what you've been keeping from me."
Nicholas is quiet for a brief moment, then… "I told you not to go looking
for them, Dean," he says. "Dean. You shouldn't have—"
"I didn't go looking!" I yell as I blast through a yellow light. If a cop
catches me now, I'm just going to have to keep going. The last thing we need
right now is to draw attention, but I have to get to her. "I was with Viks and it
just—it hit me—you're gone. They're making their move. I can't get ahold of
her." I choke and slam my fist against the steering wheel. "I know you're not
in town. Viks told me."
"Maybe she's just asleep or something, Dean," my father says, his tone
gentling. I've never heard this tone from him before. He actually sounds
almost something like a real fucking father. "Don't panic."
Don't panic? I'm already fucking panicking. "No!" I yell. "It's not even
ringing. It's like it's jammed or something. I'm on my way back to her, but..."
I've never been this fucking scared in my life. I squeeze the steering wheel in
front of me, holding on for dear life. "Dad … I don't know what the fuck to
do. I can't—I can't fucking lose her.”
"Calm down," he snaps. "You can't do anything until you know whether
or not she's okay. The first thing you do is—"
I screech into the parking lot of the Havers dormitory and my jaw drops.
"No."
"Dean?" My father's voice grows distant. "Dean, what's going on?"
"It's on fire..." I hear myself say the words as I throw the car into park.
"What's on fire?" he asks.
"The fucking building," I say. "Havers." I hear sirens in the distance. I
shut the car off and jump out, lifting the phone to my ear. "I left her here," I
tell him. "She was right fucking here an hour ago! She wanted to stop by and
see her—"
A splitting ring cuts through my call and I look down. The second I see
Avalon's number, I don't give him any explanation, I just cut the call over to
her. "Avalon?" I pant. "Baby, I'm here. Where the hell are you? The
building's on—"
"D-Dean?" It's not Avalon's voice that comes across the line, but Rylie's.
"Rylie?" I frown as I start searching the empty parking lot. "Where's
Avalon? Is she with you?"
She sniffles and I turn around as I hear it in person and she's standing
there with a satchel across her chest and a bloody arm, tears running down
her face. I drop my hand and rush over to her. "Rylie!" I grab her, making her
yelp. Blood smears across my hand, but I don't care. There's no sign of
Avalon anywhere. "Where is she?"
Rylie shakes her head. "H-he took her," she says. It's clear she's in shock,
and maybe I should be kinder to this girl—especially knowing how Abel
feels about her—but I can't. There's too much adrenaline running through my
system and not enough answers. Where is Avalon?
"Who took her, Rylie?" I demand, shaking her slightly.
"She said his name was Ace," she says quickly. "He didn't kill her, he just
tased her and took her with him."
"And this," I ask, releasing her bleeding arm.
"He shot at me and told me to stay back if I wanted to live."
"Fuck!" I turn away, the rage so hot inside of me, I can't contain it. A
firetruck speeds into the parking lot and halts abruptly. Men jump out,
rushing towards the burning building as more come towards us.
"Is there anyone else inside?" one of the firefighters demands. I can't
fucking do this right now, I turn away, but dimly, I hear Rylie reply, telling
him no.
My phone rings and I answer—already knowing who it is. "Did you find
her?" my father asks.
"No," I say. "They took her. She's gone."
He curses.
"This was fucking planned," I say.
"I know," he agrees. "Those fuckers—they must've had someone tracking
me. I didn't tell many people that I'd be leaving. They're using my absence to
their advantage."
"Dean?" Rylie's voice is soft but firm. I turn back to her. She lifts her chin
and takes a step closer. "What do you want me to do?" she asks, clutching her
satchel as blood runs down her arm. "I have my computer, but the wifi cut out
before we had to get out of the building."
"It was probably a jammer," I tell her.
She nods as if she'd already figured that out. "It explains why I couldn't
use the cell phone until they left," she replies. "There's something else,
though, Avalon said that Abel was in trouble—and Braxton. I found out
about her father, Dean. He was an Eastpoint heir which means she is. I think
it was them—the others—who did this."
I eye her sharply. Even if I hadn't gone to Viks, she would've figured this
out. It'd only been a matter of time.
"Dean," my father’s voice in my ear draws my attention back. I can't go
back to him, though, until Rylie is taken care of.
"Go with the EMTs," I order her. "Get checked out. Stay at the hospital."
I reach into my pocket and withdraw a black card, tossing it her way. "If
anyone gives you any trouble, flash that. Keep Avalon's phone so I can get
ahold of you."
She catches the card and holds it to her chest for a moment, her eyes
locking on mine. "Find her, Dean," she says. "Don't fucking let them kill
her."
I open my mouth, but she doesn't even let me tell her that there's no
fucking way in hell I'll let that happen. She just turns around and walks away.
I don't know when this little purple-haired mouse of a girl turned so vocal,
but I have to think it's Avalon's influence, and maybe it's not a bad thing.
I shake my head and refocus on my phone. "What can you do?" I demand.
My father blows out a breath and I hear someone in the background
talking to him and the whirring of airplane engines. Had he been on the move
since this conversation started? "I'm chartering a plane right now," he says.
"But I still won't be there for a few hours."
"Avalon might not have a few hours," I say. "And I can assure you as
soon as I get my fucking hands on Lionel and Elric, they won't either. I need
to know where they might have taken her."
He barks something to someone off the phone—demands for them to
hurry the fuck up—and then he's back. "I'm going to send you an address," he
tells me. "It's ... it's the Mason estate."
The Mason Estate—because Avalon's real last name is Mason and she's
an Eastpoint heir just like the rest of us. It's almost fucking funny if it weren't
the reason why she's in danger. She acted like an Eastpoint heir before we
even knew she really was one. I don't have the energy to be angry about the
fact that my father kept this from us, from her, too right now. I just need to
find her.
"Send it to me," I growl as I grip the door to my SUV and yank it open.
"Already sent—to you and to Viks; I assume he'll be with you."
&nb
sp; "Yeah."
"Be careful, Dean."
I jump back into the vehicle, hang up the call with my father, and dial
Troy. We're going to need a lot of fucking guns because, after tonight, there
will be two less Eastpoint heirs in this world.
Just hang on, baby. I think. I'm coming.
44
DEAN
VIKS SLAPS THE MAGAZINE OF HIS GUN INTO PLACE, PULLS BACK ON THE TOP
of the gun to check and make sure there’s a bullet in the chamber, and
finishes loading. My foot is to the floor, pressing down on the gas as I speed
through the streets. Every second I'm away from Avalon is dangerous. My
heart's fucking pounding against my ribcage, so loud I can hear it thrumming
in my eardrums.
"Still no answer from the guys?" he asks as I grip the steering wheel.
"What did Nicholas have to say?"
"He's on his way back, but there's no way he's going to make it in time," I
say. "You know they're going to try to end this tonight. They'll kill her as
soon as they're sure they can get away with it."
"And if they're not at the Mason Estate?" he asks as he sets the gun down
on the floorboards and reaches for mine. He unloads the magazine and checks
the clip.
"Where else would they go?" I demand. "My father seemed pretty
fucking convinced that's where they'd go."
"No one knows about it but him and those two," Viks concedes just as I
catch sight of the entrance to the main Frazier estate. I whip in between the
two brick columns and thank fuck that Abel had snuck me a gate entrance
opener years ago. I press it and gun the engine, nearly colliding with the
edges of the black, wrought iron gates when they don't open fast enough for
my liking.
The lights of the house are lit when we pull up to the front. Viks hands
my gun back and palms his own. "They probably left some men to keep the
boys from running off," he warns. "We'll need to be careful."
If Viks is right—which he probably is—and Elric and Lionel are
forcefully keeping their sons locked up then that can only mean they know
what she means to them. She may be mine in every way under the sun, but to
Brax and Abel … Ava has become something different. She's not a
replacement, but those two haven't had a woman that gave a shit about them
since Josie died.
I take the gun he hands me and check the safety before flicking it off.
"We need to go get Brax after this," I say. "I can't do this without either of
them."
Viks nods, but before he can say another word, a familiar voice speaks.
"No need, I'm already here." Our heads turn and catch sight of Braxton as he
slips from around the side of the mansion, dressed in dark clothes.
"Brax!" Relief slides through me. "How did you know to come here?"
"The old men have been keeping secrets," Brax replies as he stalks
towards us. I frown when I note the dark bruises along the side of his face. "It
seemed a bit odd to me that they would call us back at such a convenient
time. They were tracking us, watching us. I don't know what they're planning,
but I knew you'd need both Abel and I."
I nod. "I figured as much." It was the only explanation as to how they'd
know exactly when we'd return from the city. They knew we killed their little
puppet and as soon as my father left town, they'd thrown their plan into
action. I can only hope that this plan of theirs is haphazard, that they’re just
taking advantage of the opportunity and it doesn’t go deeper than that.
There's no room for mistakes on our part. One wrong move could mean
Avalon's death. "And yes, we do. Avalon's been taken."
His jaw hardens. I nod towards the SUV. "Take the extra gun in the glove
box," I order. "Let's get Abel and get the fuck out of here."
"Do you know where she is?" he demands.
"I know where she might be, but we're running low on time."
Braxton doesn't need to be told twice. He marches towards the SUV as
Viks and I turn our attention to the front of the Frazier mansion. Minutes
later, he's at our side with his own firearm. All those years of training—the
physical exhaustion, the warnings, the betrayals we faced—none of it had
predicted that we'd be facing two of our own, but it had at least prepared us.
The three of us move towards the front door and I take the lead. I’m
thankful that each of us had made it a point to copy keys to the main estates
for all of us to have because it allows us to slip into the house quietly. That's
the only thing that's quiet, though. The second we enter the foyer and shut the
door behind us, Abel's voice sounds from somewhere on the first floor.
Viks lifts his gun and moves forward. "—fucking keep me here!" Abel
yells.
"Please, calm yourself. Getting so worked up will do nothing." That's
Andrews. His monotone, expressionless voice is bland, unbothered by Abel's
anger. I round the side of a wider room and catch sight of Abel standing
between two larger men, both with their guns drawn and pointed towards
him.
"If you want to keep me from leaving, then you're going to have to tell
them to shoot me, Andrews," Abel warns him.
"I will do what I must, Mr. Abel. Please be advised, we will not kill you,
but if you continue disobeying your father's direct order to stay, we will
ensure that you cannot leave, even if that means damaging your legs."
Abel's head turns one way and then another, and I can tell he's close to the
edge. He's weaponless, but certainly not rageless, and though he may be the
most easygoing out of all of us, he received the same training. He won't go
down without a fight. We don't, however, have time for that fight. As
Andrews lifts his palm, commanding the two men, Braxton, Viks, and I lift
our own weapons and pull the triggers.
The men on either side of Abel go down first and then Andrews. Abel
jumps back, curses, and turns, his fists raised before he sees who it is. "Dean?
Brax?" He blinks at us. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"No time," I snap, gesturing for him to hurry his ass up. "We need to go.
Come on."
"Where's Ava?" Abel demands.
"She's been taken," Braxton informs him.
Abel's face goes from surprise to horror to amusement. He puts a hand to
the top of his hairline and tosses back his head. "Oh, those dumb
motherfuckers." He laughs. "They're in for it now. She's going to wreck
them."
"Let's go give her some backup, then," I suggest. Abel nods and looks at
the gun in my hand.
"You got another one of those for me?"
Viks reaches back and pulls out a second handgun, tossing it his way
before he retrieves his cell. "You go on ahead," he orders. "I'll take care of
this." He swipes a hand towards the bodies on the floor.
I give him a grateful nod. "Thanks, man."
He shakes his head. "Don't thank me, just get your damn girl back."
"I fucking will," I tell him.
45
AVALON
THERE'S NO POINT IN TRYING TO PRETEND I'M STILL UNCONSCIOUS WHEN MY
mind comes back to reality. The pain running through my body is enough to
make me groan before I
even open my eyes, ruining any element of surprise I
could’ve mustered. My nerve endings feel like they’ve been fried. The
excruciating, shooting pain I’d felt right before the world had turned black is
gone, but the remnants still linger.
"You're awake," Ace says gruffly. "Good, I was afraid I held the trigger
on that taser down a bit too long.”
"Is she dead?" is the first thing out of my mouth.
"I'm sorry?"
I tilt my head back and glare at him across the vast empty space. It's a ...
living room? No, but it's a big room of sorts. Massive. With arching walls and
a chandelier and a white brick fireplace. All of the furniture, however, aside
from the couch Ace is lounging on—flipping my goddamn pocketknife up
into the air before deftly catching it and tossing it again—and the chair
underneath my ass is covered in white sheets.
"You will be," I growl. "But before we get to that, answer my fucking
question—the girl that was with me. Did you kill her?"
"Oh." He stops tossing my knife. "No. I only had one of my men give her
a warning shot. Nicked her arm—she'll be fine.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't have that many friends in this world, it
would fucking suck if yet another person who gave a shit about me died
because of me. Footsteps sound against the floor from somewhere out of my
line of sight. My muscles tighten automatically, making me groan again as
pain lances through me.
A dark figure emerges with a phone in hand and stops between where I sit
and Ace’s couch. Ace, however, has straightened and stood. He hovers above
the newcomer but keeps his head low, and he takes a subservient stance with
his arms behind his back. I eye the new scar.
“Sir,” he says respectfully.
Sir? Shit, this must be one of them, I think.
“Calm yourself, Ace,” a gruff voice says. He finishes whatever he’s doing
on the phone and then tucks it into the brown waistcoat he’s wearing. Who
the fuck wears a waistcoat in the summer? Apparently this man. “We’re just
waiting on Smalls. Has she said anything?”
“She just asked about the friend we left behind,” Ace responds.
“That’s all?”
“Hey,” I snap, stretching my hands out behind my back as I try to gain
more feeling in them. My wrists feel numb and the tips of my fingers are