“I love you,” I whispered against her mouth.
“You are my home,” she said, stopping my heart with her confession. “If I ever find myself back in Atlanta, it will be to say goodbye to Kyle and those waiting for me.”
Then she was pressing her mouth to mine again and trying to get her body closer just as someone began banging on the door, and didn’t stop.
It took three seconds for my mind to register that the ominous knocking was similar to a beating heart, and another half a second for my body to lock up and my blood to run cold.
“Ignore it,” Briar pled, but I was already moving.
“Get in the closet,” I demanded in a low, urgent tone as I gently pushed her off and reached under the kitchen table. “Lock the door and call the driver. Tell him someone came to the front door with a heartbeat.”
“Wait, what?”
As soon as I had the gun freed from the holster secured under the table, I stood up and cupped Briar’s neck with my free hand.
“Oh my God, Lucas! What—?”
I slammed my mouth down onto hers to quiet her, then said, “That’s not just someone at the door, Briar, it’s a warning and a goddamn trap. And I can’t go out there if I’m worried about you.” When it looked like she was about to argue, I begged, “Please.” I took one of her hands, placed the gun in it, and held her stare. “If it isn’t me or the driver, don’t wait . . . just shoot. Now go.”
I only waited long enough to make sure she was running toward my bedroom before I took off for the backyard. I rounded the house and slipped silently through the side gate, and only slowed as I neared the front of the house.
The adrenaline and the rage and the fear melted away, and I found my calm was all too easy to reclaim, knowing someone had come for Briar.
And I knew it was her they had come for.
It was a Monday. I was supposed to be at work. Briar wouldn’t have understood the warning in the knock.
I stuck to the side of the house as I searched the empty driveway and the street. A bubble of rage started to form, but I was quick to push it away when I saw the empty car sitting in front of my house.
I stayed silent as I moved closer and closer to the front door. My eyes swept along the street for any other cars or people who might be outside—people who might be watching—but it was quiet, save for the man waiting expectantly at my door with a gun in his hand.
Suppressor screwed on. Finger already on the trigger.
Whoever gave this trigger-happy bastard a gun needed a bullet with their name on it . . . right after I thanked them for making this so easy for me.
I stepped up behind the man without him ever realizing I was there, and in a deadly calm tone, asked, “Planning your funeral?”
Chapter 38
Day 119 with Blackbird
Lucas
Before the man could turn, I slammed one hand over his mouth and, with the other, grabbed his hand holding the gun and squeezed.
He bucked and roared against my hand when the bullet lodged in his foot, but I held tight to him as I pried the gun from his hand.
“That’s why you never leave your finger on the trigger,” I said in the same tone as he continued screaming against my hand. “Now I’m going to give you three seconds to stop yelling, or I’ll do it again. Three, two . . .” I let another beat pass as a few cries left him before he controlled it enough so they were only whimpers. “If you try to run, I’ll aim for your head.”
I released him so suddenly that he rocked backward, crying out in pain when he tried to balance himself with both feet.
“Do you really want to see if I was just making empty threats?” I asked as I glanced behind us for anything and anyone that shouldn’t be there, then gripped his arm. “Walk.”
He hissed and cried out in pain with every step, but was smart enough not to try to run or yell as we walked to the garage. I entered the code to open the door, spared one last look at the street and the houses around mine, then shoved him inside.
“Who?” I demanded to the pathetic man next to me once we were halfway into the garage, but he only kept crying. “Who?” I asked again, my voice dropping lower, taking on a more lethal edge.
I heard a car racing up the street not long before my driver flew onto the driveway, but I only spared him a glimpse as he ran from the car into the garage. I focused on the man in front of me again. “I asked you a question, and it wasn’t rhetorical.”
I slammed my foot down on his injured one. As soon as the pain registered and he screamed, I lifted my foot and shoved it into his knee as hard as I could.
The roar that tore through the garage would’ve had my neighbors calling the cops if my driver hadn’t already shut the door. My house was as soundproofed as they came.
The men in this world ensured their houses were. It was a necessity for those first weeks after buying a woman since they tended to scream and beg for someone to save them.
This man should’ve thought of that.
Should’ve known that even if I hadn’t been here, I would’ve brought him back and made him scream, and no one would’ve heard him or come to save him.
I watched where he lay, crumpled on the ground and yelling as he tried to grab at his unnaturally bent leg, and forced myself to hold on to that calm. I had to feel nothing.
He’d come for Briar.
“Last time. Who?”
“W-wuh—” He broke off on another sharp cry and gritted his teeth against the pain for a few seconds before he bit out, “William.”
A rage unlike anything I’d ever felt—even last week’s horror when William had tried to have my blackbird taken from me—built in my chest until it felt like that was all I was, and all I would ever be.
He isn’t going to stop, I realized.
And knowing William’s mind . . . Fuck.
William’s threats came in twos. Always. This man wouldn’t be the only one here.
I looked over at my enraged driver, and horror coated my voice as her name left me. “Briar.”
The man on the floor started laughing manically between his hisses of pain, and I ran for the house, barking at my driver to stay with him.
I vaguely registered someone telling Briar it was over as I tore down the hallway to my bedroom. Vaguely registered that he sounded like me as he coaxed her to open the door.
But my rage and my fear were choking me, and making it hard to focus on anything other than Briar, Briar, Briar . . .
“That’s my girl,” I heard the man say, and my heart sank, my feet stumbled, as I thought about Briar—my world—about to face whatever William had sent for her.
I ran into the bedroom in time to see the man take a step away from the closet . . .
In time to see him raise a gun identical to the one in my hand at its door that was opening . . .
In time for him to repeat, “That’s my—”
“Briar, stop!” I yelled.
The man began turning toward me, but I fired before he could react, adding his face to all the others that haunted me as his body fell limply to the floor.
I slid my gaze up to see Briar standing just out of the doorway of the closet with one shaking hand covering her mouth, another gripping the doorjamb, supporting her. The gun I’d given her lay at her feet, as if she’d dropped it.
“I didn’t realize . . .” I began as I looked back at the man, my borrowed gun still aimed at him. “I didn’t know who had sent the other man. I’d thought it was just him. When he said who—” I broke off and shook my head, trying to shake off the lingering fear. “I knew there would be another.” I glanced back at Briar, took in her trembling body, and said, “Stop looking at him, Briar.”
She tore her eyes from the man lying on my bedroom floor and gave quick jerks of her head. “I don’t—I don’t und—why does this keep happening? What is happening? Why are they coming for me?” she asked, each question louder than the previous as panic gripped her.
“I’ll explain once
we leave this room. For now, close your eyes and try not to listen,” I said gently.
“W-what?”
“Blackbird,” I said in a soothing voice, even though I felt anything but, “trust me. Close your eyes and try not to listen.” As soon as her hands were over her ears and her eyes were squeezed shut, I walked up to the man and shot him one more time just to be sure.
Even with the suppressor, Briar still flinched.
I grabbed the gun from his lifeless hand and tucked it between my arm and ribs with the barrel facing behind me as I took slow steps toward my blackbird.
“Lesson one,” I said softly as I bent to pick up the gun she’d dropped and slid it into the waistband of my pants. “Never keep your finger on the trigger. Lesson two, if someone is trying to kill you, kill them first. Then shoot them one more time to be sure. I’ve seen a lot of people die because they didn’t make sure. Lesson three, stop looking at the man on the floor, Blackbird.”
Her head shook slowly at first and then faster and harder until a sharp sob burst from her chest. “Tell me why this keeps happening, Lucas, please.”
I took her chin between my fingers and tilted her head back so I could brush my mouth over hers, trying to pass a different kind of calm to her. “I’ll tell you everything I know, but we have to get the rest of the story from the man in the garage. Walk with me, and keep your eyes off the floor.” I released her chin but placed my free hand on the small of her back as I led her out of my bedroom.
As we walked, I told her everything about Friday—from my entire conversation with William, to what I’d done at his house. When she began shaking, I pulled my hand away from her, trying to give her the space she might need after getting a glimpse of how evil her devil really could be.
“William,” she said on a breath, but the softness of the word didn’t cover the shock or the horror of her tone. She stood with her back pressed to the wall just outside of the garage, her head shaking slowly as everything I’d told her sunk in. “And he sent these men?”
I nodded when she looked up at me for confirmation. “I don’t know what they were supposed to do though. William wouldn’t try to have you taken again, he would want to send a message to me.” I forced down that paralyzing fear that tried to resurface and tried to tell myself that Briar was there, standing in front of me, whole and unharmed. “He’s either retaliating because of his leg, or he’s trying to do to me what happened to him.”
“Which part?”
“The only woman he ever loved was killed because he loved her, and he knows I love you. I’ll keep you safe,” I added when raw terror filled her eyes.
She only nodded.
“When I go into that garage, I’m going to be someone I never wanted you to see—all of this is a part of me I never wanted you to see. If you don’t think you can handle it, please don’t walk through that door with me.”
Briar’s body began trembling harder. “Like what you did to William?”
I cocked my head to the side hesitantly. “I had to find out who sent them.”
Her full lips parted and a shuddering breath rushed from her when she realized what I was saying—that I’d already done something similar to the man in the garage.
Seconds passed in weighted, pressing silence before she asked, “You’ll be Lucas Holt?” When I dipped my head, she continued. “Will you feel anything?”
“In there? No. When it’s over . . .” I trailed off but held her stare. “Every one of them haunts me. I would destroy every last man in the world to keep you safe, Briar, but they would all still haunt me.”
She closed the distance between us in the small hallway and placed her shaking hands on my cheeks, tilting my head down to hers. “Your soul is beautiful, Devil. Please don’t forget that,” she whispered, her lips brushing against mine. “I’ll stand by you—you, whoever you have to be—and I’ll wait for my devil to come back to me. Finish this.”
I wrapped my arm around her waist and caught her mouth with mine, deepening it for only a moment before saying, “You brave, brave girl.” After another pass across her lips, I pulled away, forced that calm to pour over me, and stepped toward the door. In a low, cold tone, I gestured for her to go first. “Blackbird . . .”
The look of shock on the man’s face when he saw Briar only lasted for a second before terror took over as he focused on me.
I looked over at the driver and noticed his relief when he saw Briar.
“Look at the driver,” I said in that same detached tone to Briar, but I spoke loud enough that the men could hear me. “Look how he’s standing. How he’s holding his gun.”
He was a handful of feet away from the man lying on the floor, feet shoulder-width apart, both hands on his gun . . .
“Finger off the trigger.”
“You’ve mentioned that,” she murmured back, making her response sound like a question.
“Because it’s important.” I let a savage smile pull at my mouth. “Ask the man on the floor how I helped him shoot himself.” I ignored Briar’s sharp inhale and walked over to the hitman, passing off his partner’s gun to my driver as I did. “Why did William send you?”
The man’s fear-filled stare darted between Briar and me over and over, and I noted that my driver was slowly backing away from me.
Smart.
But I knew what his face would look like, what Briar would see when he went to go stand near her: a grown man who was intimidating in his own right, who had saved her, unable to stand near me when I turned into this. And for a second, I almost lost my hold on who I needed to be.
“The body’s in my room,” I said as I forced myself to remain in control, knowing my driver would be relieved for the distraction.
I heard him try to get Briar to leave, but I knew without having to turn around that my brave blackbird wouldn’t go anywhere.
“I thought you would’ve learned earlier that I don’t like repeating myself,” I stated darkly and stepped onto the man’s destroyed knee with all my weight.
His screams filled the garage immediately, mixing with his stuttering of William’s name over and over again. Before I could tell him he was answering the wrong question, he yelled, “S-s-send a m-message. H-he wanted us t-to send a message. That’s all.”
“Is that so?” False amusement slid through my voice, and without taking my eyes from him, I reached behind me and shot his uninjured foot. When the new screams began, I kept my voice calm, steady, dark. “You think I hadn’t figured that out the second you announced yourself?”
The door to the house opened, and my driver came shuffling in with the body of the other man slung over his shoulder.
I waited until he dropped the body next to the man I was still standing on before asking, “What was the message?”
But the man was now shaking so hard I wondered if he would go into shock from the pain before he could answer me.
“Last time,” I growled. “What was—?”
“H-he—he h-h-has . . .” He pointed at the other man when talking became too difficult.
I stepped off his knee and bent over the dead man next to him, checking his pockets with my free hand until I found a small, thick envelope. I pulled it out and opened it, and had only read the first cardstock before everything inside me went numb.
This wasn’t like for like.
He’d lost his goddamn mind.
I looked at the man on the floor from under my eyelashes, and growled, “Kill her.”
He nodded slowly as a sob burst from him, and the front of his pants became wet. “J-j-just do it. Do it. K-kill me!”
I bent down to drop the second cardstock on the chest of the dead man, and then placed the first on the quivering man. I stepped back, pulled out my phone, and took a picture of the men and sent the picture to William with the words:
Because she’s still breathing, one of them will continue to . . .
William’s cards were in plain view, both with bold, swirling letters.
Now yo
u know how it feels . . .
I hope you enjoyed her . . .
After the message was sent, I squatted so I was near the man still alive, but getting closer and closer to losing consciousness with each passing minute, and let my calm slip just enough so he would never forget me, never forget my next words, and would never think to come after what was mine again.
“Three people have lost their lives because they’ve tried to take that girl from me, and another will never walk again. The only reason I’m not going to take my time killing you is because she is still breathing. Consider yourself lucky that you can be a message to anyone else who thinks they can tear her away from me.” I leaned closer and growled, “I would burn the world to keep her safe.”
I stood as I let my calm take over again and walked slowly away from the men.
When I reached my driver, his stare was bouncing from the floor to me, and he was cringing, like he was waiting for something else.
But I’d done enough.
“Get someone over here to dump these men on William’s driveway, and someone else to fix the carpet in my room.”
He dipped his head in a faint nod and avoided meeting my eyes. “Y-yes, Mr. Holt.”
“But don’t enter the house until I contact you.”
“Yes, Mr. Holt.”
I ushered Briar into the house and gave her a look, begging her not to say a word until the door was shut behind us and we were walking up the stairs. “Bla—”
“Why can’t he come—?”
“Listen,” I said softly but urgently as I lifted my phone and shot off a message I knew would be received immediately. “I told you I was going to keep you safe, and I will. I’ll do everything I can so that nothing like this ever comes near you again. And the phone call we’re now waiting for can’t be heard by anyone—even the driver.”
She went still at the top of the stairs. “Is William going to call?” she asked breathlessly, her face pale, and her wide eyes terrified.
My eyes narrowed and lips thinned as I tried to push back my anger. “I have a feeling we won’t hear from William for a long time.”