Present day…
He never could get her to leave. Even when he’d threatened her with Frank, she’d rolled her eyes and told him to stop wasting her time, or Frank’s. Damn woman had wedged herself into his life like burrs in his hair, getting herself tangled and embedded so deep that he’d given up trying. He’d reluctantly accepted her presence, had accepted that if he limited her presence in his life to one day a week, nothing bad could possibly happen to her, that she would be safe. And she had been. For twenty two years, she had walked into his home with her cloth bag of precooked meals and he had let her. He had let her because she had been his anchor, the glimmer of light keeping the darkness at bay. She had kept the walls from closing in on him and the nightmares from consuming him and, God help him, he had been too weak to say no. Now, his reckless selfishness had taken away yet another person from his life.
“Sir?” Frank’s deep rumbling tone snapped through the cold, jolting Killian back. “The backdoor is open. It looks like forced entry. Would you like us to proceed?”
Yes. It stayed lodged in the torn muscles of his esophagus, caught in the sticky paste collecting at the back of his throat, but it didn’t need to be said. Frank knew. He always knew.
Against his side, Juliette’s shoulder brushed his lightly. The quiet whisper of fabric sounded much too loud, but the subtle reminder that he wasn’t standing in the cold alone had his body shifting closer. In his hand, hers felt so delicate. The fingers little sticks of ice clinging to his. An almost absent part of him had to resist the urge to pull her into his chest and shield her from the serrated edges of the cruel wind. But he wasn’t sure he could trust himself. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to let go again.
In the distance, the men pushed into the house, a well-oiled machine trained by Frank himself. The pounding of their feet echoed through the distance, somehow deafening. It was several seconds later that he realized the drumming was his own heart and it had taken residence between his ears. He muddled past it, needing to focus. His eyes burned, but he refused to blink. Vaguely, he was aware of Juliette setting her other hand over top of the one she was already holding. Her body turned into his side. Still, Killian couldn’t move.
“Killian…”
Her quiet whisper was interrupted by the figure that bolted out of the house at a near run, stumbled down the steps and vomited all over Molly’s junipers. The sheer force of his stress echoed all through the street.
Killian felt his vision waver. The edges frayed to a dull gray. He struggled not to blink, terrified that he might close his eyes and find himself on the ground.
“Sir.”
There was a hand on his shoulder. A massive hand with long, thick fingers that could cover a man’s entire face. It was gentle, but the weight of it held Killian in place and he realized he’d started towards the house.
“I must insist you leave this matter to me,” Frank finished, his voice oddly distant. “I will bring you my report tomorrow.”
Killian shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”
Frank knew better than to push it. He quietly accepted Killian’s decision and waited.
Juliette was another matter.
“There’s nothing you can do here,” she whispered. “Come home. We’ll call the police and—”
“We’re not calling the police.” Killian muttered, watching as his men stumbled out of the house one by one. “Clean it up, Frank.”
Juliette stiffened. “No, you can’t touch it. The police—”
“There is nothing they can do.” He finally forced his neck to the side to peer down at her. “This was a message for me and I need to handle it.”
“Handle it? What are you talking about? This is a job for the authorities!”
Any other time, the bewilderment on her face would have been comical. It was clear that she had faith in the system. She honestly believed they would be able to handle this and he didn’t have the heart to tell her they couldn’t. He didn’t have the energy to do anything.
“You should go home,” he decided.
Juliette immediately recoiled like the very idea disgusted her. “No! I won’t leave you like this.”
But he didn’t want her there. He didn’t want her to see him like that. He couldn’t think or let himself grieve properly when he worried about scaring her or letting her see a side of him he never wanted her to see. He couldn’t be himself when she was there.
“You need to leave,” he told her with as much patience and cogency as he could muster without actually snarling at her. “You need to leave now.”
She shook her head. “No, please, don’t.” Tears crystalized along her lashes. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to … you’re not alone this time. I’m here. Please let me … no!” She tore away from the hand Frank settled lightly on her arm. “I’m not leaving, damn it! Please just talk to me! Let me in. We can get through this. Please, Killian!”
Get through this.
He wondered for a moment what that meant. What was she thinking? Did she honestly believe he could walk away? That he could let this go unanswered? Did she really think he’d be able to sleep knowing he’d failed Molly twice? Maybe she expected him to grieve like a normal person, to take flowers to Molly’s headstone once a week and pray she was in a better place. That was what people expected, he supposed. They put their faith in the authorities and trusted their problems would be solved.
It didn’t work that way in his world. They couldn’t do a damn when his mother had been kidnapped. They hadn’t done anything when his father was shot. He really didn’t believe they would do anything now and Molly deserved better.
Small hands curled into the soft material of his lapel. Wide, brown eyes peered up at him imploringly.
“You’re better than this.”
He froze at that. Not because of the words themselves, but because of the absolute conviction in her eyes. She genuinely believed he was worthy of redemption. No doubt she worried about tainting his soul further, but he still wasn’t so sure he had a soul and if he did, it was beyond saving. Truthfully, he couldn’t give a shit about it. Let the devil take it. What good was it to him anyway? The only one concerned about it was her and she needed to stop. She needed to stop trying to save him. She needed to stop being there. Her insistence to stay by his side infuriated him beyond reason. It made him want to punch a wall. How could she still want to stay after this? How could she not see that Molly had stayed? She had fought him too. She had refused his every demand she stay away. Now, there was no one left. He was alone. Again.
“Killian…”
“Leave.” The single word ripped from his very gut. It rang low, but with an unmistakable clarity. “Now.” Juliette started to open her mouth. He could see the protest and refusal and he snapped. “Leave!”
His snarl had the required affect. Her mouth closed. Her fingers loosened their crushing grip on his coat. She seemed to rock back onto her heels. The motion barely put a sliver of space between them, but it could have been the world for the way his insides dipped. Color that had nothing to do with the cold kissed her cheeks pink under the stray wisps of hair drifting lazily across her face.
Her hands dropped to her sides with her deliberate step back. It was just a foot, but, with the absence of her heat. The space seemed to crackle with ice.
“There is nothing down this road for you,” she whispered at last, filling the void with a white plume of breath. “But I’m here and I care about you.”
With that, she walked away from him and climbed into the back of the SUV. Frank said something to Marco. Then they were gone. She was gone. He should have been relieved.
“Sir—”
“Don’t.” The warning sizzled in the air between them. “Find who did this. Then find out where I can get my hands on them.”
Maraveet was gone when Killian got home. He knew she would be. His sister wouldn’t stay to face another death, especially not when she’d warned him it would happen. For years Mara
veet had been chiding him for his attachment to things. She’d berated him for his weakness, his need for a semblance of normality.
“We’re not normal,” she was forever telling him. “We can’t afford to pretend.”
She’d been right. If he had listened, Molly wouldn’t need a pine box.
Frank hadn’t let him go in. Killian could have anyway. Ultimately, he was the boss. But he hadn’t. He couldn’t. Torn to pieces was not how he wanted to remember her. That was how she was brought out, in thick, black bags along with her husband. They had filled too many to be one whole piece.
Someone had taken their time. Had enjoyed themselves. They had made sure there was no doubt in Killian’s mind that he’d pissed someone off. It was an unmistakable message and Killian knew all about leaving this type of message.
He’d been sixteen when his father’s throne had become his. He hadn’t even lost his virginity and yet he was responsible for an entire empire and expected to run it as well, if not better. But he had accepted. He had claimed his future out of sheer greed and vengeance. It was with the knowledge that with his family’s extensive contact list and resources, he would find the people responsible for the slaughter of his parents and put an end to them. He was certain that had it not been for Frank and Molly, he would have gone crazy. That the darkness would have driven him even deeper into that place no child should ever have to face. But they had held him grounded. Frank had protected his body, but Molly had been his sanity. She had saved his life.
No one understood the pain of walking into the place he had always considered his haven and feeling the walls shift around him. No one understood why he couldn’t even walk past his parent’s bedroom or why the places their pictures had once hung lay barren. They weren’t there the nights he’d wake up and swear blood was oozing from the cracks in the ceiling. Molly had begged him to leave the estate, to sell it, to get away from that life before it was too late, but that was just it. It was already too late. There was no help for him.
By nineteen he’d already had more blood on his hands than anyone his age ever should. He had basked in the deaths of his enemies. He had thrived on their pleas, on their suffering and, oh, had he made sure they suffered. He had left no one.
Word of what he’d done spread like gasoline on open flames. It ignited a frenzy of rumors that were beyond ridiculous, everything from him bathing in their blood to putting their mutilated bodies on spikes outside their homes. None of which was true, but he never corrected them. Before long, he was The Scarlet Wolf and he never corrected that either.
Let them fear me, he thought. Let them know what I am capable of, what I will do if anyone comes against me.
What he also never did was admit to anything. He let everyone believe what they wanted, except Juliette. He had told her the afternoon she’d asked if he’d murdered anyone. He hadn’t lied to her. He found he never could. Frank had been right about one thing, she had accepted him. Even knowing what he was, she never turned away. To most, that would make her special, someone who embraced all of him. It made her someone he should hold on to.
It didn’t.
It made her vulnerable. It made her susceptible to all the evils of his world. It left her open. He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t stand outside another house and wait for his men to vomit in the bushes. Molly was bad enough, but if he lost Juliette … Christ, if he lost her there would be nothing left. He would demolish the fucking city, the world if he had to, to find the person responsible because he loved her. In the solitary darkness of his own mind, he could openly admit it to himself. He loved her. He loved everything about her. He loved how she made him feel, loved how she could make him laugh. He loved how she could make him forget the monster crouched inside him. But more than all that, he loved how she could walk into a room and make him forget everything he’d done. Maybe she was his second chance. Maybe he was an idiot for not grabbing hold with both hands. But if it was a contest between his sanity and her life, there was no question.
He didn’t need his sanity anyway.
Chapter 22
It was three days before Juliette heard from Killian again. Three days of being left completely in the dark. Three days of worrying and badgering Jake and Melton for information and getting nothing in response. The pair were given orders to keep her away from the manor until further notice and no one knew how long that would be.
The wait was killing her, but she allowed it. She hoped Killian was taking the time to grieve and work through what the right course of action was from there. She hoped the distance was being used to put Molly to rest properly and not plotting revenge. Somehow she doubted it, but nevertheless, she was optimistic.
That night, Jake and Melton drove her home as they always did, neither saying a word … as they also always did. In the backseat, Juliette curled and uncurled her toes inside her pumps. The stiff joints creaked, reminding her she’d been standing in four inch heels for the better part of nine hours. She considered slipping them off, but then she’d have to get them back on and there was no point; they were pulling up in front of the house anyway.
All thoughts of discomfort vanished the moment she spotted the black Escalade parked in the driveway. The sight of it immediately had her heart racing and excitement diving through her. Killian’s name burst out of her even as she threw open her door and scrambled heedlessly out of the SUV. Her pumps clacked noisily in her haste. Part of her was thankful one of the men had thought to shovel the walkway and porch at some point earlier that day. The cleared path made it easier to reach the front door.
“Killian?”
She scrambled into the foyer. Her purse struck the floor to the table by the door and slumped over forgotten. Her heels hit the hardwood all the way to the center of the foyer before she felt it.
The absence.
No one was there. Javier and Laurence were missing from their usual place at the window. Their table was still there with a small pile of things sitting on top. Phil and Vi were nowhere to be seen. Mrs. Tompkins had gone to her daughter’s house two days earlier so Juliette wasn’t expecting to see her, but everyone else…
“Hello?” she called.
Her own voice carried back through the darkness. Images of finding their massacred bodies somewhere at the back of the house had her scrambling backwards. She hit the front porch and twisted to see the driveway where Jake and Melton should have been.
The SUV Jake and Melton normally drove was gone. Its place was an empty square of wet concrete and shadows. Next to it, the SUV she’d seen on arrival sat parked exactly where it had been, the windows dark, but she knew no one was inside. Her gaze swung over the street, clinging to the hope that they’d parked at the curb.
But the black SUV was gone.
Heart a frantic knot in her chest, Juliette hurried back inside. Her heels struck the place next to her purse and she padded bare foot into the sitting room. Most of it was bathed in darkness, except for the plastic table by the window. The light from outside spilled across the white surface, making the rectangle glow. The three items sat in the very middle, in a small pile.
A phone, a set of keys she suspected belonged to the SUV parked outside and an envelope. She tore into the latter.
It was signed by Killian. His graceful penmanship looped across the bottom. His company logo burned at the top, making it all nice and official. But the series of words were wrong, no matter how many times she made herself reread the single page. It registered and she understood and still it made no sense.
In continuation of the original Agreement, this document is legal and binding between two consenting parties. Effective immediately, I, Killian McClary, hereby annul the contract called The Agreement previously decided upon with Juliette Romero. By doing so, both parties acknowledge that the termination is immediate, nonnegotiable, and without prejudice. As per accordance to The Agreement, section iii, paragraph twelve, failure to provide the appropriate thirty day notice, The Primary accepts the penalties and cha
rges as stands:
One mobile device.
One fully functioning vehicle.
One lump sum of ten million dollars to be deposited in The Secondary’s desired account.
By accepting, The Secondary relinquish her rights to the original agreement. All parties are to refrain from further contact henceforth. Failure to do so will result in severe penalties.
Signed and dated by Killian McClary.
It was all so straightforward and to the point and yet she refused to believe he would do this, that he would break their contract without even talking to her. How could he even possibly think she would accept this without a fight?
Pitching the letter down, she turned and sprinted upstairs. She changed quickly out of her work clothes and drew on a thick sweater and jeans. She strapped her feet into a pair of comfy boots, threw on her coat, grabbed the phone, car keys, and letter, and stormed from the house.
It had been seven years since she’d driven a car. The Escalade was definitely bigger and more luxurious than her mother’s old Neon, but it suited her immediate needs. The warm leather cradled her body as though designed for her. The inside smelled of new car and pine. It was nice, but not nice enough to stave off the chill that refused to be subdued no matter how high she turned the heater. It seemed to be radiating from deep inside her own bones. The phone and letter felt like a weights in her pocket and she had to refrain from pitching both out the window.
But she did pull out the phone and dialed Vi’s number. The built in Bluetooth in the car immediately picked up the call and the ringer shrieked through the cabin. Juliette held her breath as she waited for someone to pick up.
“Hello?” Vi’s voice filled her ears.
Juliette exhaled. “Thank goodness you’re all right.”
“Juliette?” There was a short pause, then, “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Juliette shook her head. “Nothing. Where are you?”
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