Natural Born Killers (Sick Boys Book 3)

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