“Jeezus,” Thomas muttered when Luke straightened up, chest heaving and hands still fisted, staring at us across the limp bodies strewn at his feet.
“Only because of her,” Luke said, barely winded, “are you still standing.”
The guards were coming in full force now. I could hear their feet thundering down the path. “You have to go, Luke,” I pleaded.
“What about your father?”
“I have a way out. He can’t hurt me. Just go.”
Luke shook his head, turmoil in his eyes. “I can’t leave Oliver—”
Suddenly everything became a blur of black and white. I was forcibly removed from Thomas’s grasp and thick arms circled my chest. When the confusion cleared, there, staring at me with that smug sneer that made me want to rip his eyes out, was Henry. His suit was too tight. His hands covered in too much jewelry. Hair controlled with too much gel. He was shinier than the knife being held to my neck.
Thomas was contained by a man twice his size who said, “Move and the girl dies.” I recognized the ponytail and silver necklace—he was one of the guards Marlene and Georgia had been flirting with. Luke had fought off two who had tried to hold him down and now more bodies lay at his feet. But as I watched in horror, more guards descended on him in droves. Outnumbered, Luke lashed out and took a hit to the jaw that sent him to his knees. Pulled back up to his feet with his arms held behind his back, he could only stand there while the guards took turns hitting him.
When I screamed, Henry irritably told the guards to stop.
“Impressive,” he said to Luke while four cautious men struggled to keep him under control. “You would have been an excellent addition to my team, Mr. Ravelle. There might be a lucrative position for you if you’re interested.”
Luke spat at Henry’s feet.
Henry shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to Thomas, eyeing him curiously. “Didn’t I kill you already?”
Thomas glared but said nothing.
“Ah… I get it,” Henry tapped his temple. “You were playing dead on that beach, and Sindra decided to play nice. Lucky for you.”
The rat’s gaze then fell to me. I didn’t shudder. I didn’t cower. I showed no fear.
“And Kaya, my sweet daughter,” he said. “So nice of you to come home. I’ve missed you.”
The man twisting my arm behind my back laughed and pushed the blade of his knife harder against my throat. A knife, not a gun. Weird. That was so not Henry’s style.
Something wasn’t right.
“Just so you know,” Henry said casually to the sweaty man breathing heavily against my ear. “If you hurt my daughter, I will rip you to shreds so slowly even your dead relatives will feel it.”
Sharp as a tack, everything came into focus. We were divided. Henry and his armed men with Luke on one side, and me and Thomas and our opposing captors on the other side.
“Tell ya what,” a familiar voice said. “I won’t kill your precious daughter if you make me a deal.”
A female in a white gown came marching out of the shadows. It was the older lady that had been dancing with Oliver. She pointed a thin finger at Henry—but it was Luke who flinched. He seemed to shrink back away from her, and I detected a hint of fear in his eyes.
“How ya doin, Kaya?” the female said to me.
Did I know her?
Gin and jewelry… confessions… dancing and laughing… tattoos and pink hair and a mutual love of zombie movies… the Derrick Bar…
“Angela?” The knife pushed harder against my windpipe. Was I dreaming?
“The one and only,” she said, giving the man with the knife a nod of approval.
This was not possible. “Why are you… What is—?” I couldn’t talk. The blade was cutting off my air.
The girl pulled off her mask and wiped her mouth across her arm, taking off whatever makeup she’d used to cover the lower half of her face with. “Yup, it is really me. Miss me, love?”
Angela. The waitress. My friend. The one I confessed everything to one night when I snuck out of my room. Her face was one I would never forget. A million questions flowed all at once, but I didn’t have a chance to ask any.
“Yes, yes. That’s your pal, Angela,” Henry said, bored. “And what a good friend she turned out to be. She was certainly easy to convert. She became one of my best truth seekers, and Sindra trained her very well. But apparently, she’s become a bit greedy. What a shame.”
“No,” I said, the world tipping on its side. “You’re wrong. She’s my friend.” The girl I once knew was completely focused on Henry, appearing entirely the same but entirely different. “Angela, you’re here to help me, right? Please tell me that’s what’s going on.”
Even as I said it, I knew I was wrong.
Henry snickered.
Angela shook her head. “Sorry, darling.” Her Aussie accent thickened, and I was brought back to memories of her serving cold coffee and bad jokes. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment and gone through absolute hell at the hands of your insane father to get it. There’s no going back now.”
Betrayal, on the deepest level, hurt.
Luke tried to shake free of the men holding him, but he was shoved to his knees.
“You’re lying,” I stammered.
Henry had grown impatient. “Would you like to see what your so called ‘friend’ is capable of?” He turned to the guards holding Luke. “Make him stand. And take off his jacket.”
Luke’s jacket was removed and tossed aside, then Henry marched up and pulled his shirt open down the front. Luke’s bare skin caught the light and held it as the buttons scattered and made a tinkling noise on the stones. Bare chested, the claw marks of the cat were a reminder of the day I’d saved him, and the tattoo, black on his ribs, a reminder of why he’d kidnapped me. His eyes met mine, locked on, and for a moment, we were back there, just me and him…
Then they turned him around.
And my heart stopped.
His beautiful skin was a mess of deep red lines and gashes. Some still swollen, some raised and healing. Henry poked the widest one, and Luke gasped.
“She did that to him,” Henry said, pointing at Angela. “With a whip.”
I waited for Angela to deny the accusation, but she just smiled.
“Luke, is it true?” I said, feeling my stomach flip.
He bowed his head with an almost imperceptive nod.
“You… did that… to him?” The rush of blood to my head was roaring, and the knife held to my neck meant nothing as I stared at Angela.
She licked her lips rather wickedly. “Mmm, yes,” she said, gaze lowering hungrily on Luke. “That is my handiwork. He was so deliciously fun to play with.”
I saw red. Pure, thick, and so deep it was almost black—RED. “And you let her,” I hissed at Henry.
“Ha, no. I am a terribly busy man, Kaya. I don’t have time to keep tabs on my employees. She was told to get information from him, not whip him. That was her own doing. I would never condone anything so barbaric.”
For the first time in my life, I knew what extreme rage and anger felt like. It coiled up in my guts like a spring ready to release as my blood turned to liquid fire. I recalled all of Oliver’s teachings. His lessons in self-defense. His instructions were clear and fueled by rage as I drove my foot as hard as I could into the knee of the man holding me, not caring about the sting of the knife when his leg snapped backward. Then I swung my elbow back, connected with his jaw, and snatched the knife from his twitching hands before he hit the ground. I lashed out at the man next to Angela, cutting through his jacket and instantly seeing a satisfying red line. He backed away, weaponless, exposing the backstabbing conniving bitch that I intended to kill.
I meant my threat. “You are going to pay for every single bit of pain you caused him.”
The self-assured look on Angela’s face dissolved, and for a moment I thought my threat had put the fear of God in her. Then I realized that her and her men were u
narmed, and I was her bargaining power—her leverage and lifeline—and I was not under her control.
“Ah.” I smiled, feeling rather wicked as the power of rage surged through me. “You figured I’d still be that wimpy, bumbling idiot you first met. That I’d just stand here and cry. Not anymore. Due to the number of knives that have been held to my throat, I’m a fucking expert at this now.”
The man whose knee I broke moaned. I kicked him hard in the balls.
Henry clapped his hands together and let out an amused laugh. “All right, nice work, daughter, but this is getting tedious and I have a house full of guests to attend to. So, what was it that you wanted, Angela? You were attempting to blackmail me, so I might as well hear what you have to say.”
Angela stuttered, keeping an eye on me as I inched toward her, the man whose jacket I had cut was already off and running. “I want five million,” she said to Henry, trying to keep it together. “I know you have it in your office. I will give you Kaya as soon as the money is in my hands.”
“But you don’t have Kaya, do you? Not physically or mentally. You hurt the man she loves. There’s no forgiving that.”
The marks on Luke demanded retribution. The knife steady, I felt myself lurching forward, but with one wave of his diamond-covered hand, Henry beat me to it. Silenced guns put holes in Angela. Too many to count. She crumbled to the ground, and the only thing my knife sliced through was the empty air where she once stood.
The man holding Thomas turned and ran.
“Sorry, Kaya,” Henry said. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with that. Blood on your hands is a horrible thing to live with. Thought I’d save you the pain and torment.”
“Thanks,” I said, realizing I meant it as a strange rush of warmth for my father came over me. Remembering sparse childhood moments when I felt what might have been love, stories read to me while I sat on his lap, the comfort of his arms—all these things made me question absolutely everything I was doing. But the second he took a handgun from his jacket pocket and aimed it at Luke, clarity snapped back into focus.
“You’ve been excellent bait, Mr. Ravelle.” Henry’s leather shoes crunched one of Luke’s fallen buttons. “But I’m afraid you’re no use to me now.”
“No!” It burst from me with blinding force. “You won’t see a single cent of my inheritance if you hurt him!”
Thomas was at my side, and I shoved him away so he wouldn’t stop what I knew I had to do. Moonlight glinted off the blade as I pointed it at my own chest, holding it with two hands so I could plunge it into my heart. The air became colder. The mayday tree where Anne and I carved our names shook.
“Kaya, no,” Thomas muttered when I warned him to stay back.
I had Henry’s full attention now—my sixteenth birthday wish was finally coming true.
“Let him go,” I demanded. “Or I’ll do it. I’ll kill myself. I won’t live in this world without him.”
Luke’s eyes met mine, bluer than blue in the soft moonlight—and I had to look away.
Henry laughed nervously. “You won’t do it. You don’t have it in you.”
I pushed the tip of the knife into my chest, feeling the sting of the skin coming apart and the heat of fresh blood travelling down between my breasts. Luke was struggling now, calling my name, pleading with me to stop, but I tuned him out. Funny how clear things became when faced with saving someone you love.
Henry ordered his men to stand down. “You’ll never get that knife through your ribcage,” he said. “But go ahead and try. I’ve got a medical unit in the north building that can put you back together again.”
I wasn’t sure if he was right or not, so I moved the knife lower and pointed the tip of it at my stomach. At that place between my hipbones. I remembered Luke’s hand there, stretching out flat against my bare skin that night in the tent, and took in a deep breath; I would slice my womb right open. No heir would come from me. “Henry, there are some things you cannot fix.”
Luke, stunned and shaking, gasped for breath and shoved the guards closest to him backward.
“Huh. It appears that you really do love Mr. Ravelle,” Henry said, clearly shaken. “So, tell you what. I’ll let Luke go, and I won’t shoot Thomas either. All you have to do is marry Oliver. Tonight. Simple. That way no one gets hurt—including you.”
I poked the knife into my stomach, pushing against the fabric, tearing a small bit of the satin Georgia had so diligently sewn glittering crystals onto.
“I promise I’ll let them go,” Henry said eagerly, his hands up. “On my honor.”
“You have no honor,” I spat.
Henry lowered his gaze. “I’ll remind you that I still have Stephan.”
I wasn’t sure whether he did or not, but I couldn’t read him now. His truth and lies blended into a blur.
“Thomas,” I said, eyes never leaving Henry’s, “get over there by Luke.”
“I’m not going anywhere without—”
“Now!”
Thomas inched away from me, the guns aimed on him following his every move.
“Luke, open the door,” I said.
Luke pushed aside frozen vines and pulled. With a screech the metal door gave way and opened to expose the edge of the cliff.
“Can you get down?” I asked, unable to look at the tears in Luke’s eyes; I had to stay focused on Henry and the knife in my hand, the point of it so close to breaking my skin.
“Yes.” Luke’s voice almost shattered my concentration.
Henry cleared his throat. “So, what will it be Kaya? I have a commissioner of oaths here, and I’ve already informed our guests that there will be a wedding tonight. I wouldn’t want to disappoint them. So agree to marry Oliver or I’ll kill him, too.”
Luke jolted. “Don’t you dare.”
“Oh, did I forget to mention that?” Henry said smugly. “Yes, Angela found him quite easily in the crowd and now he’s waiting for his bride. Without one, he’s useless to me. So what will it be, Kaya? I am being exceptionally kind-hearted today by letting everyone you love keep their lives. All you have to do is say ‘I do’.”
“You’re going to make me marry my brother.”
“Legalities. I can work around them.”
“Then, so be it.” I nodded.
Luke and Thomas both breathed ‘no’ at the same time, and I was sure my legs were about to give out.
Henry grinned like he won the lottery, and all the guards retreated on his request. “I’ll let you say goodbye to your, uh, friends. The alarm is off, and they can go happily on their way—if they don’t fall to their deaths. You’ve got six minutes to be at the South entrance of the Empress ballroom. Any later and I’ll start killing everyone.”
Henry was singing to himself as he walked away. Thomas and Luke rushed toward me, and it was then that I dropped the knife.
Being stuffed in a closet wasn’t on my agenda, so I threw my weight around and broke a few noses, bruised up a few shins—nothing too exhausting—and made them work for it. I knew escape was futile, but I wanted to give Luke enough time to get away.
There was no chatter amongst the men who stood guard in the empty guest suite, just a lot of moaning and wincing. I hadn’t recognized anyone in this batch of Henry’s minions. They all looked… odd. Something about them not quite right. Their eyes just seemed empty.
A knock at the door startled me. “Are you decent in there?”
It was Henry. If I had any hair on the back of my neck, it would have bristled. The closet door opened, and there he stood, smug as a cat who caught a mouse. His black hair was slicked back, eyebrows groomed and waxed, and his suit tight enough to show off the fact that he had a very good team of personal trainers. Was he wearing eyeliner? He was positively comic-book villainous. Slithering next to him was his lawyer in white boots polished to a blinding shine, as well as a thin, pugnacious man with glasses perched on a bird-like nose. These two were unaffectionately known as the snake and the hawk.
“T
ime to come out of the closet there, Oliver,” Henry said, then laughed. He was in a good mood, which meant something bad was about to happen. I noted that the guards were back far enough that they wouldn’t be able to stop me from killing my ex-boss with my bare hands.
“Looking good, Henry,” I said, eyeing his naked throat.
“What? You’re not calling me ‘sir’ anymore?” he said, feigning being offended. “Ya know, Oliver, that hurts.”
“Oh, darn.”
He slapped his leg like I’d said something funny then followed it with a chesty laugh. “But tell ya what, since you will be marrying my daughter in, oh, four minutes, why don’t you just call me Dad.”
His words floated through my ears. I was only half listening because whatever scheme he was dreaming up, I would not be part of it. I figured I might as well kill him now and face the consequences. It wouldn’t take long. In a split second, I could deliver a two-knuckle blow to his windpipe.
He saw it in my eyes. “You’re not going to hurt me, Oliver,” Henry said, although he backed up a few inches. “That would be a really bad idea.”
“Why?” I asked.
“First, because if you don’t go along with today’s events, I will kill Stephan and Davis. And second, because I am about to give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”
I inched closer. The guards raised their guns in unison. “And what might that be?” I growled.
Henry smiled. “My daughter.”
* * *
I was contemplating using the pen to stab Henry in the back when he supplied proof of his threat; Stephan, Davis, and Sindra, all bound and gagged. Stephan was the only one whose eyes were clear, even though his face was riddled with burns. Sindra and Davis both stared at the floor, their faces bloodied and beaten.
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