Merciless King (Lawless Kings, #5)

by Sherilee Gray

  I felt guilty for wanting to get up and walk out of there. I felt bad for Terrence, I did. But I didn’t need his pain on top of my own. I wasn’t the person he needed to be telling these things to.

  Since we were already there, I gave him what I thought he needed, what would hopefully help him start to move on with his life. “I’m sorry you went through that,” I said. “I truly am, but I’m trying to put what happened in the past, and I think you should do the same, or at least try to.”

  He brightened a little, dragging his sleeve across his eyes again, wiping away his fresh tears. “You forgive me?”

  “Yes,” I forced out, shifting in my seat. I really wanted to leave and that would happen a lot quicker if I just told him what he wanted to hear. “Family is complicated. We do things we wouldn’t normally when it involves the people we love.”

  He nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I’m so glad we could talk, London.”

  For some reason when he said my name, the way he made direct eye contact, holding for a little too long, sent a crawling feeling down my spine.

  I stood. “Me, too.”

  He stood as well, paid the check, and followed me out, walking beside me as we headed back toward my apartment.

  “Thanks again for this,” he said.

  “It’s fine.” I was starting to feel weird. Kind of heavy. Dizzy. I turned to Terrence and had to throw an arm out to balance myself. He was watching me. He didn’t look sad anymore. He was…smiling. That crawling feeling intensified. I stumbled.

  He caught me. “It’s going to be okay.” He slid an arm around my waist and leaned in close.

  I wanted to shove him away, but my limbs felt weak, weighted down.

  “It’ll all be over soon,” he said against my ear.

  I couldn’t make my mouth move, and when I finally managed to speak, my voice came out slurred. He led me to the edge of the street. Then I was in a car, a cab, while he rattled off an address and told the driver he needed to get me home, that I’d drunk too much.

  Everything was a blur after that, snapshots of consciousness, before I was sucked back under.

  Van

  I knocked on London’s door again. Nothing.

  I tried her phone. Again, nothing.

  Something was way the hell off.

  Pulling the lock pick from my wallet, I quickly got the door open. No London. The bathroom was empty as well. Everything in me said this wasn’t right.

  Fuck.

  I locked her place back up and, trying to keep my cool, headed back downstairs. Albert was at his desk and looked up when I strode over to him. He stumbled back a step.

  What the fuck?

  I frowned. “Has London Rivera been back to the apartment building tonight?”

  His gaze widened a little then darted away. He shook his head. “I’m, ah, not at liberty to give out that information.”

  No one was down there but us and I wasn’t in the mood to pussyfoot around with this asshole. I reached across the desk, grabbed the front of his shirt, and yanked him forward, slamming his head down on the desk. “Has she been back tonight?”

  He gasped.

  “Tell me. Now.”

  “S-she left with a guy. He’d been waiting for her to get home,” he blurted.

  “What did he look like?”

  “Smallish guy, blond.”

  “Does he live in the building?”

  He shook his head.

  I eased up my hold on the guy and he lifted his head. “Where was he waiting for her?”

  Albert was sweating, flushed, that gaze still darting around.

  “Where?” I barked.

  “Her apartment door.”

  I rounded the desk at that, grabbed the fucker by his shirt again, and slammed him against the wall. “You let him up to her floor?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.

  “He pay you?”

  He nodded again, blubbering.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Security footage. Show me. Now.”

  A short time later I was watching Terrence Ferida walk through London’s apartment building and into the elevator. Going by the time stamp, London arrived home twenty-seven minutes later and went straight up to her place. Fifteen minutes later, they walked out of the elevator together, Terrence looking red-faced and emotional, and London looking worried at his side. They walked out of the building.

  I shoved away from the desk. “I’ll deal with you later. You better hope nothing’s happened to her.” I strode out the door, trying London’s phone again as I headed down the street to where I’d parked my car. I was climbing in when someone answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Who is this?” I bit out.

  “Um, I just found this phone on the pavement outside Java Oasis on Mason Street. I’ll take it in, leave it with the staff if you like?”

  I hung up and slammed my fists down on the steering wheel. What the fuck was going on? I called Neco as I started my car and headed to Ferida’s apartment. If he’d hurt her, I was going to tear him apart with my bare hands. I was going to end the piece of shit.

  I didn’t piss around knocking on any doors this time. I picked the lock and let myself in. No one was there, and going by the smell of the garbage in the kitchen, he hadn’t been there for a week or more. I quickly searched the place. Nothing useful jumped out at me.

  I was about to lose my fucking mind.

  I left and reached the agency in record time. Neco was in his office when I walked in.

  “You got it?” I’d asked him to pull up CCTV footage.

  “Yeah,” he said, tension rolling off him.

  I knew that look. My fingers curled into fists. “And?”

  “It’s not good, brother,” Neco said.

  Though I didn’t need him to tell me that. The moment London didn’t answer her phone my gut told me something was wrong. “Show me.”

  Hunter and Zeke walked in, and going by their expressions, Neco had filled them in. They moved in behind us as Neco replayed what he’d found. We all watched as London walked out of the coffee shop with Terrence. The way he watched her was like he was waiting for something to happen.

  And then it did. She looked like she lost her balance, then she stumbled. Terrence caught her, leading her to the street and waving down a cab. To anyone walking by she looked like she’d had one too many drinks or was unwell.

  “The fucker drugged her,” Hunter growled.

  I was gritting my teeth so hard there was no way I could answer him right then.

  Neco pushed his seat back. “Owen wasn’t acting alone. Terrence was in on whatever sick shit he had planned.”

  I paced away and back, working to keep it together, to keep my head on straight when my whole world, my reason for breathing, was somewhere scared, possibly hurt…or worse. I spun and plowed my fist into the wall, leaving a hole in the drywall, releasing the tension pushing me to breaking point.

  Then I pulled it back together and turned to the men in the room “Zeke, Hunter, try and track down that cab company. Find out where they were dropped off.” Though it wouldn’t be that easy, and we all knew it. Terrence would have changed cabs or had another car waiting to take them to his next destination.

  He finally had her and he wouldn’t risk losing her again.

  I was going to find them, and I was going to kill him.

  “Neco and I will go to his office,” I said, forcing myself to focus on what needed to be done. Time was running out. “There wasn’t a laptop or computer at his place. He could have it with him, but there might be something on his work computer.”

  We headed out.

  His building was easy enough to get into and I made short work of the security system. The pictures of him and his brother let us know which was his office. There was a laptop sitting on his desk, and Neco was in ten minutes later.

  “He’s got everything encrypted. Only a man with something to hide has this kind of setup. I need to take it back to the agency.” />
  On the way back I heard from Zeke. They found the cab company and were following a lead, and in the meantime…fuck, I couldn’t think about what could be happening to London while we scrambled to find her, and still function.

  Neco took the laptop to his office and I started going through CCTV footage, working out in a grid from the coffee shop. Basically, London was a needle in a haystack. And without her phone we couldn’t even track her through GPS. Terrence’s phone was either turned off or he’d ditched it for a new one.

  Zeke and Hunter walked in thirty minutes later and shook their heads when I shot out of my seat.

  “Got something,” Neco said. “Fuck, this shit is…it’s bad, Van. Dark net sick shit right here.”

  “Tell me,” I gritted out.

  “Stuart Coombs had a fucking blog, pictures, descriptions of the evil shit he did, and Terrence is all over it, the motherfucker’s number one fan.”

  I stiffened at the mention of Coombs’s name, the serial killer who had almost taken London’s life the first time. We knew Owen had worshiped the evil fucker, but this was a whole new level of sick.

  Neco clicked around. “There’s another blog linked to this one.” His fingers were flying over the keys. “This one’s all Terrence’s.” He cursed.

  I stared at the screen. London. There were pictures of London all over it. London kneeling in the park, crying, covered in dirt, no doubt after burying her dog. London walking home. Working in her shop.

  “There’s an audio,” Neco said. He clicked play under the title: First attempt at the flower shop.

  London crying out echoed through the room from the speakers and lifted the hair on the back of my neck. The sound of a scuffle, her panicked cries, shit smashing. Then Owen calling his threats through the door.

  I shoved my fingers through my hair, feeling so fucking helpless.

  “He just posted something,” Neco said. “There’s a link, but it’s password protected.”

  “Can you get in?”

  “I’ll need a few minutes,” Neco said.

  Hunter gripped my shoulder. “Let us check it out first.”

  I shook my head.

  “Fuck, Van, you might need to prepare yourself,” my brother said.

  I spun on him instantly, grabbed him by the throat, and shoved him up against the wall. “Don’t…” I growled. “Do not fucking say that. Don’t even think it.”

  “I’m in,” Neco said.

  “She’s alive.” That was Zeke. “Van.”

  I spun around and stared at the screen. London was in the middle of a room. Hands and feet tied, sitting in a chair. She was gagged, tears streaming down her face.

  “He’s streaming live,” Neco said.

  And we weren’t the only ones watching. Six others had tuned in to watch Terrence finish what Coombs had started.

  “Is there any way to trace this, get their location?”

  “I’m not sure,” Neco said. “I think so, but it’ll take some time.”

  We didn’t have time.

  I watched as London cried, so scared, shaking in terror. My heart felt like it had been torn from my chest. Adrenaline with no outlet pumped through my veins. I was on the verge of losing my mind.

  The camera tilted suddenly, the picture shaking before shifting so it was aimed at the ceiling, like it’d fallen over. It was quickly righted but not before there was a flash of something big and blue, lit up bright, through the window to the side of the room. “Did you see that?”

  “That flash of blue through the window? Yeah, there was something reflecting a lot of light as well. Zephyr Towers. I’m positive of it.”

  The blue skyscraper had been built the year before by some eccentric billionaire. London wasn’t far from us. “Let’s go,” I barked. “Neco, I need a floor, room number, now.”

  “Go,” he said, focused on what he was doing. “I’ll text it to you as soon as I have it.”

  I didn’t bother waiting for the elevator and pounded down the five flights to the parking garage below, with Hunter and Zeke right behind me. We jumped in and gunned it out into the street.

  Traffic was insane, and a few minutes later we were locked in. “Fuck this.” I laid my hand on the horn and drove up the curb, scattering people, bypassing the lights, and making it into the next street. We were still several blocks away and traffic wasn’t getting any better. “I’m going on foot.”

  I parked in a loading zone, jumped out of the car, and sprinted down the street. I heard Hunter’s and Zeke’s boots pounding on the pavement behind me.

  “Wherever he has her, it was the north-facing side of the building. The Zephyr sign is fucking big and it’s silver. I’m sure that’s what caused the reflection.”

  I didn’t wait. I sprinted to the north side of the building, shoving people out of my way. God, what if it’s too late? What if I was too late? There was the sign Zeke was talking about. I stared up at the opposite building, scanning windows. Apartments, by the looks.

  I’d kick down every fucking door in the place if I had to.

  But by then it could be too late.

  I pulled out my phone as I ran across the street. Zeke went straight to the doorman to question him while Hunter and I sprinted for the elevator.

  Ruby answered Neco’s phone. “He needs a few more minutes,” Ruby said.

  “We need it now,” I gritted out.

  “Fuck,” Neco spat in the background.

  “What?”

  “Definitely Zephyr Tower,” Ruby said.

  “We’re here now. I need a room number.”

  “Third floor, apartment 244,” Ruby said urgently. “Hurry, Van.”

  Going by the edge to her voice, something had changed. Something was about to happen in that room.

  “Get to her now!” Ruby all but screamed down the line.

  18

  London

  Terrence tugged me out of the chair and grabbed me by my hair. He was breathing heavily, skin flushed, clammy. He was excited, performing for the camera he had aimed at me, getting off on being watched.

  “Stuart Coombs was the composer and London was the final note in his opus. I’m going to fulfill his destiny. Here, today, I will finish what he started.” He looked down at me. “You should be flattered, thankful he chose you for his important work. Thankful that I decided to give you the end you were born for.”

  He smoothed his fingers down the side of my face, and I tried to jerk away, but his grip on my hair was too tight, and I was still dizzy, still recovering from the drugs he’d given me. “You should have died, London. You were meant to die. That’s how it was supposed to be.” His eyes were bright with emotion. “My brother sacrificed his life for this, for you, so I could do what needed to be done.”

  I couldn’t answer. The gag was stuffed so deep in my mouth it was almost choking me. My eyes watered as he tugged on my hair again, forcing me to look at him.

  “Owen would do anything for me, anything, no questions asked. Him and I, we’re the same in a lot of ways. Killing came easy to us. But my brother wasn’t meant to die, not him. Your boyfriend, then you…but never him.” He hissed and shook me. “Don’t look at me like that!” he screamed, even though my expression hadn’t changed. “I know what you’re thinking, that I set my brother up. But I had no choice. I had to do this. Prison time—Owen was only supposed to go to prison.”

  A sharp wail escaped him, so loud it hurt my ears, a soul-deep cry full of agony. He was fracturing before my eyes, in front of whoever was watching this play out. And very soon they’d watch as he plunged the knife in his hand into my body, I had no doubt about that. They’d sit in their homes, behind their computers, and watch as I bled out all over the floor.

  “If you hadn’t gone to that asshole,” he hissed at me, “Owen would still be here. We were supposed to do this together. We always did love to trick people. We had you all fooled.” He giggled and it lifted the hair on the back of my neck. “The police, your boyfriend, they had n
o idea we were working together. Well, there’s no one here to save you this time.” He pointed his knife at the camera. “They want blood, London. They want your blood. They were watching when Stuart stalked you two years ago, they grieved when he was killed trying to fulfill his destiny, and they cheered me on when I took up the mantel, believing in me, knowing that I had to finish this.”

  He leaned in. “Oh yes, they want your blood, London, and they deserve to see it. They’ve been so patient. We’ve all been so patient. If I make this quick, I’ll be doing all of us a disservice. They deserve more. I deserve more.”

  He lashed out with the knife, dragging the tip of the blade along my collarbone. I screamed, the sound muffled, as white-hot pain sliced through me, as the sickening warmth and tickle of my blood leaking from the slice he’d just made in my skin quickly followed. He pressed his mouth to my ear. “Do you realize what today is, London? It’s two years to the day that you felt Stuart’s blade slice through your body.”

  I shuddered and he laughed maniacally, like some crazed supervillain. He sounded absurd. I had the insane urge to laugh. I was pretty sure I was going into shock.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard of a death by a thousand cuts? Well, we’re going to try seven hundred and thirty, one for every day you lived when you shouldn’t have. That was number one.”

  I screamed again, almost choking on my gag as his blade went to my other collarbone and he started cutting.

  The door to the apartment exploded off its hinges.

  Terrence shrieked in surprise, a piercing sound that made me wince. He stumbled back, taking me with him.

  Then Van was there. He filled the doorway, his brother Hunter at his back. Both were holding guns, and they were pointed at Terrence. They didn’t have a clear shot, though, not when I was in the way, being used as a human shield.

  I looked into Van’s eyes. They held so much fury and fear I was sure I felt it along with my own. I’d only just gotten him back, and now this asshole was trying to take me from him.