Spiteful Heart

Born to Die, Book Two

Candace Wondrak

© 2022 Candace Wondrak

All Rights Reserved.

Book cover by Melony Paradise at Paradise Cover Design – Premade Book Covers Group

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Chapter One – Lola

Chapter Two – Maddox

Chapter Three – Lola

Chapter Four – Sylvester

Chapter Five – Lola

Chapter Six – Viper

Chapter Seven – Maddox

Chapter Eight – Lola

Chapter Nine – Sylvester

Chapter Ten – Lola

Chapter Eleven – Viper

Chapter Twelve – Lola

Chapter Thirteen – Lola

Chapter One – Lola

The music of the nightclub pounded in my body, keeping pace with my heart. In the past, I’d stalked nightclubs like this to find my next victim, the next Joe Schmoe who happened to get a little too handsy with fake drunk me… the next victim of the Night Slayer.

Tonight was different.

I sat with my mask on, the half-skull curled around the lower half of my face, on a balcony overlooking one of the busier nightclubs in the city. Viper was out hitting the pavement with Big Mike, while Sylvester and Maddox were each stationed in different parts of the club. I wore my mask because I wanted everyone to know it was me—because I was hoping for someone else to show his face tonight.

The serial killer following me, killing girls in my name. The one who’d fished out multiple bodies from the water. The one who’d sent me Tina’s head in a box with her lips and cheeks cut off and a tape telling me there’d be more.

Of course there’d be more. There always was.

Sylvester had put every single man he had on the case, and Maddox had called in some favors from the people he used to go out and party with. We had nearly every Luciano loyal man and woman on the lookout for this serial killer, including most of the police force. Nobody wanted this to get out; if it spread to national news and the FBI strolled into town, more than one criminal empire would be put at risk.

I wore a tight black dress that showed off my legs and my cleavage, along with the tattoo on my arm. Anyone who glanced at me, sitting like a queen above her kingdom, would know I was someone important, and anyone who was worth knowing would know it was me.

Lola fucking Harding. The Night Slayer extraordinaire. The Bloody Queen. A gal with that many names wouldn’t be taken down by some nameless asshole who thought he could stick it to me by murdering young women. No, I wouldn’t let him get away with it.

That was why my heart pounded so much anytime I left the house. The anticipation was killing me, the dread that filled me anytime I imagined that faceless fucker mutilating those girls… and raping them before he killed them. I was the monster I was today because of a rapist, so this particular serial killer instilled me with the rage and fire of a thousand suns.

I was going to find him, and I was going to give him a taste of his own medicine. Make him helpless. Make him starve. Cut off his dick and his balls and serve them to him on a silver platter. I’d make his life miserable before I ended him for good, mark my words. Someone like that deserved nothing less.

That wasn’t to say I hadn’t made mistakes. That wasn’t to say everyone I’d killed had deserved what I’d given them… but I tried. I tried to keep my wrath focused on men who thought they could take advantage of women, the abusers, the rapists, the ones who reminded me of my stupid brother.

I cleaned the streets, because if I didn’t do it, no one else would.

But the nights had been quiet, almost as if this fucker was biding his time, waiting for something. I’d gone nearly crazy these last two weeks, my need to find him and kill him overwhelming in every sense of the word. I knew I was crazy, but damn, this whole thing was making me feel even crazier.

I’d interviewed everyone with their own eyes on the streets. Anyone who was in business for themselves. I’d frequented the Gilded Rose, as much as Newton hated it, and I’d even talked with the Beast. Beyond that, Fang himself was also on the lookout. The two brothers might be as insane as I was, but even they didn’t want another serial killer in this city.

Like I’d said, though: it was quiet. Too quiet. The more days and nights that passed without incident, the more on edge I became. It was like he was taunting me, laughing at me from the shadows, at my inability to find him. Like the bastard wanted me to know there was nothing I could do to stop him from hunting my girls.

Mine.

Every girl he’d killed was mine, and each one he’d kill until I found him was mine, too. They all were. Every single girl in this city was mine. I’d make that asshole see that soon enough.

My eyes surveyed the crowd dancing, then flicked over to the groups huddling around the bar area of the club. Every girl was meticulously done up, wearing heaps of makeup, high heels, and dresses that flashed a hell of a lot of skin when they danced. They looked smoking hot, the perfect target for our baddie.

And the guys in the club… they weren’t nearly as dressed up. Hell, I didn’t think some of them were dressed up at all, wearing t-shirts and jeans. Guys really did have it easy, huh?

One of these guys might be my killer. The possibility was always there, but still, none of their faces were familiar, and a part of me still believed whoever it was knew the inner workings of the Luciano empire. They knew me, knew what I did. Not everyone was privy to that information, which narrowed down our pool of suspects from everyone with a dick to a select few.

But whoever it was was obviously smart. He knew how to avoid us. He knew the entire fucking city was on the lookout for him, and he made no slip-ups.

Or maybe he was tired of getting random girls. Maybe he wanted me, now. To that, I’d say, come and get me, big boy.

Maddox was near the bar, able to see the door to the outside world from where he was at. He had a drink in his hand and girls around him. His black hair was messy with sweat, and when he ran his hand through it, its lengths stuck straight up. Any girl that tried to get his attention was met with the cold shoulder, for he was too busy watching the club, like I was.

And because he was mine. Maddox Luciano was my crazy lover, let’s not forget, so no girl would be able to pick him up, but that didn’t stop them from trying, unfortunately.

Someone walked up the metal steps to the second floor of the club—which consisted of empty booths, since I’d kicked everyone else out when I’d arrived. I sat on the one nearest the balcony, able to see down through the glass railing, but when I saw someone approaching, I tore my gaze off the crowd.

A drop-dead gorgeous blond man in a suit strolled over to me, sitting beside me with a sigh. Sylvester loosened his tie, looking annoyed. It was a look he often wore when we went out in search of this serial killer. Such work was often for the grunts, but he knew I wouldn’t rest until we found him, so he held in his pride and helped when he could.

I was still a little pissed at him for trying to keep this whole thing a secret from me, but in retrospect, his reasoning was sound. This did drive me nuts. Knowing someone was out there, murdering girls and raping them like the sick fucker he was, pushed me over the edge.

I never really cared about my life. It was only when I found myself in the arms of my mafia men that I realized life didn’t have to be awful. Now… it was kind of like I’d pressed rewind on my need for total destruction. If I had to die in order for this serial killer to be put to rest, well, it’d be selfish of me not to give my life to the cause, wouldn’t it? I wasn’t selfish. I might be a murdering psychopath myself, but when it came to sticking it to the man, I was all for it.

Fuck that guy. Fuck all the guys, except my three and Big Mike.

And Fang and Beast. And that sexy as hell Lincoln dude—

Okay, okay, I know. I was getting off-track.

“I didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary,” Sylvester said, leaning into me. He had to shout directly in my ear to speak over the loud music. He reached up and tugged at his tie, loosening it more. Beneath his blond hair, a sheen of sweat lined his forehead; you could only see it when the strobe lights flashed our way.

“Same,” I told him.

“How late are we staying tonight?” he asked. “I have a meeting tomorrow.”

I ground my jaw. Sylvester and his meetings. But, I guess, he was the head of the Luciano family now, so the responsibility of keeping it afloat fell upon him. I didn’t often ask for details about his meetings or his business ventures… I knew better than to put my nose where it didn’t belong. Still, sometimes it felt like he cared more about business than he did about finding this serial killer.

And that pissed me off.

Oh, I was well aware my personal vendetta against the male kind was my own and not one widely shared, but that didn’t lessen the annoying feeling in my heart anytime he brought up his work.

“Why don’t you go?” I asked in a shout, tugging down my mask. “Maddox can drop me off at home.” As many times Sylvester and Maddox had tried to get me to move back in with them, I’d denied them each and every time.

I loved my guys, but I didn’t need to be with them twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Sometimes having Viper and Big Mike living with me was more than enough. It was a reminder that I’d been doing just fine on my own before stumbling into this mess.

I could tell just by the slight downturn of the corners of his mouth he didn’t want to go. Anytime I was out, trying to find this killer, Sylvester wanted to be out with me. Whether that was because he felt guilty about hiding his existence from me or because he simply didn’t want me to get into trouble without him was up for debate. It was probably both. He was so very possessive of me, even after all this time.

My mask hung around my neck, kept in place by a short silver chain that wrapped around the back of my neck—I’d had Fang add to the chain that was already there so I could wear it as a necklace if need be. A heavy as fuck necklace, but a necklace all the same. It currently sat over the diamond-studded skull necklace Sylvester had gotten me not too long ago.

I grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to me, our faces instantly drawing together. “Go home,” I told him, my nose leaning against his, “and sleep. I’ll be fine. Maddox will take good care of me.”

Sylvester so obviously didn’t want to go, but he also knew he couldn’t argue with me. If there was anyone more obsessively possessive over me than him, it was Mad Maddox himself.

One time, last week, we were at a bar doing some undercover surveillance for this serial killer, and someone grabbed my ass. I didn’t even have time to tell the handsy guy to fuck off and kick him in the balls; Maddox had grabbed him, slammed his hand down on the bar counter, and broke it without blinking.

Yeah. My sweet psychopath.

In the end, Sylvester settled for kissing me and saying, “Be safe. Don’t do anything stupid. And if you happen to find something, call me.”

I let his tie go, watching as he got up and walked away. My gaze did drop to his ass, a certain part of me stirring with heat when I looked upon that tight backside.

There was nothing like dress pants to make a guy’s ass look spectacular, let me just say. Sylvester could wear a suit like nobody’s business. I returned my mask to my face after his figure disappeared from view.

Time crawled by after that. I kept watch over the club, over the crowd of people dancing, their bodies swaying to the beat the DJ played, a frown on my face. Clubs like this used to feel like home to me. I’d caught so many men inside them, and yet I couldn’t seem to find the one asshole I was looking for.

Serial killer, oh serial killer, wherefore art thou?

Hours passed. The night morphed into the A.M., and all the while my nerves were shot. Hell, I didn't know what I’d do to that serial killer if I managed to see him here tonight. We couldn't make a big scene, but we’d have to get him out of here somehow.

You know, a part of me wished things could be simple, that we could go back in time to the days when I was just a girl who'd killed the wrong guy. When I had been first brought into this whole mess. Things had changed so much and yet…

Yet did they really change?  Sure, I had my three guys, but even they couldn't help me find this damned serial killer.

The Club's hours went till three in the morning, and by the time it was closing most everyone had already left. There were some stragglers, but none that caught my eye. I didn't move from my perched position, not even when Maddox came up to get me.

Some of the regular lights in the club had been turned on, the DJ no longer playing anything on his system. The few people that lingered were being ushered out. No one came to bother me, though—because the bouncers and the workers here knew who I was. They also knew Maddox, and I think they knew what would happen to them if they dared to kick Maddox out.

Maddox sat beside me, running his hand along the side of his jaw. His hairline was covered in sweat, the top few buttons on his shirt undone, revealing the muscles on his chest. Wearing all black, with that dark-eyed stare, he was everything any girl could want. It wasn’t a wonder why so many liked to throw themselves at him. He was the kind of guy that made you wet in the pussy with just a smoldering frown.

And that dick swinging between his legs? That thing could fuck you into oblivion and then some.

“Looks like tonight was a dead end,” Maddox grumbled with a sigh. His black eyes were on me, taking me in. With the mask on my face, he couldn’t tell my expression. It was as hidden from him as it could be. “We’re having a lot of those, aren’t we?” When I didn’t respond, he just said “Fuck,” and leaned back in the booth beside me.

Honestly, I didn’t know what to do at this point. It was clear what we were doing wasn’t working. That fucking guy was probably watching us through the shadows, laughing at our incompetence. Something had to give; I just didn’t know what that something would be.

Maddox checked his phone. “Viper and Big Mike are back at the house. They didn’t see anything tonight, either.” He looked around. “I’m assuming since Sylvester ain’t here, it’s just you and me.”

Now with most everyone out of the club, the air didn’t so much smell of sex. No, now that everything had a chance to settle, it reeked of desperation and sweat—and not the yummy kind of sweat that I could lick off the sculpted bodies of my men.

“Yeah,” I finally said. “I guess we should get out of here. Tonight’s another bust.” I couldn’t hide the unhappiness from my tone, couldn’t bear to fake it. Some people might be good at pretending, the little sociopaths, but me? I wore my emotions on my sleeves, what little heart I had left.

This fucking sucked.

Maddox got up, offering me his hand. “Come on.” When I didn’t go to take that hand, he grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me to my feet. I wore heels, and I still only reached his shoulder. Maddox was a tall one, well over six feet. Tall and thick with all those muscles, and that said nothing about all of the tattoos lining his body.

There was sexy, and then there was Maddox Luciano sexy. The two weren’t the same.

His hand slipped down into mine, and he led me from the upper level. Down the stairs we went, heading straight out into the early dawn. Three in the morning, the streets utterly empty. The air was cool, a not-so-gentle breeze rippling through us and making me shiver. We headed to the parking lot on the side of the club, nestled between buildings. A lone light hung in the center of it, too dim to illuminate the entire lot.

There were a few other cars scattered about, but no people. If I had to guess, I’d say the cars belonged to the workers, but you never knew. There might be some girls throwing up in the club’s bathroom or something. You’d think the serial killer would view those girls as prime victims, but so far, he didn’t seem to want them.

No, the fucker only wanted girls when he knew I wasn’t looking for him. He’d wanted to make a point, and if I had to guess, the motherfucker was delighted to drive me crazy. He probably had popcorn ready in the shadows, watching and laughing as we scurried about. He knew we’d be waiting for his next move, that we were trying to catch him in the act, and because of that, he refused to make a fucking move.

How annoying was that?

We made it to Maddox’s car, but he yanked us to a stop near the hood. He turned toward me, boxing me in against the hood of the vehicle, blocking my body from the chilling breeze. He let go of my hand, reaching for my mask and pulling it down so he could cup my jaw in those big, strong hands.

“I think I know what might make you feel better,” he whispered, his face lowering to mine. Before I could respond, he kissed me hard, stealing the breath from my lungs and stoking the flames inside me.

A kiss from Maddox was like a kiss from a beast: more often than not, pain was mixed in with the pleasure. Hard and fast, undeniable in how it took hold of you, forcing you to submit.

Hey, it wasn’t so bad coming undone in his arms. Every part of Maddox was hella distracting, and I wasn’t going to say no to that dick. That dick could warm me up any time. Seriously, any time.

Using sex to distract myself from my problems wasn’t anything new. In fact, it’s something I did my whole life. Me and sex didn’t have the healthiest of relationships, you know, but my guys didn’t seem to care. They weren’t on the straight and narrow, either. We were truly a match made in hell—and it was because of that that I knew we would find this son of a bitch serial killer sooner or later.

I just hoped we’d find him before he killed again.

Maddox’s tongue slipped through my lips, pulling me back into the present, and I let him ravage my mouth, pulling moans from me and swallowing them up. My nipples were hard points under my sheer dress, and when my body ground against his, the friction of the fabric drove me wild. The space between my legs tensed up, a low heat in my belly. Maddox’s cock was legendary for a reason.

He pulled his mouth off mine, and in the next moment, his hands fell away from my face, moving to yank at the top of my dress. With an expert touch, my tits were out, and I shivered when my nipples came in contact with the cool air. He hoisted my ass up on the car’s hood so he could get a better angle at me, and then that mouth of his lowered, taking a nipple in.

I threw my head back, both my hands on the hood behind me to prop myself up. One nipple was subject to the cool night air, while the other was getting warmed up from that spectacular mouth. When his tongue swirled around the tip, his teeth grazing it before sucking hard, I let out a moan, a cry that rose in the night air and echoed in the space.

Anyone from the club—any lingering clubbers or even the workers—could stroll to the parking lot and see us, but you know what? I didn’t care. At this point, I was out of shits to give. The only thing I cared about was finding that serial killer, not whether or not someone saw me and one of my guys going at it.

Let them watch. Let them see. Let them be jealous that they weren’t us.

Maddox’s mouth slipped off the nipple and moved to the other, paying just as much attention to it as he’d done the first. My moans filled the sky, my heart beating faster and faster as the minutes wore on.

Done with my tits, Maddox dropped between my legs, spreading them further as he grabbed my thighs and yanked me forward on the hood so he could get at a different part of me. The next thing I knew, my dress was pushed up further, he hooked a finger through my panties, and pulled them to the side. He started eating me out right there, his tongue circling my clit before dipping inside my pussy and tasting my arousal.

I didn’t know how long he was down there, but it didn’t matter. The pleasure was too much for me—twice. I came on his tongue two times, the orgasms sweeping through me back after back, every part of me tensing up.

After such huge orgasms so close together, I was delirious. I needed more. I needed that fucking cock.

“Maddox,” I breathed out his name, grinding my pussy lips against his face, “I need you to fuck me right now.”

I didn’t need to tell him twice. He pulled his face away from my pussy, wiping the back of his hand along his lips and his chin before going at his pants. He undid his belt, and his cock was out shortly after that, all hard and thick. His cock was the kind of cock you had to second guess whether or not it’d even fit inside of you. It was that impressive.

And here’s a hint: it always fit.

I slid off the car, spinning so that my ass faced him. My dress was still bunched up, letting the night breeze caress my ass just as it did my exposed tits. My core tightened in anticipation of what it would feel shortly.

Maddox didn’t hesitate. My panties slid aside, letting him at me. His cock prodded my entrance for only one second before he pushed inside, and I moaned the moment he filled me up, his thick cock hitting a certain spot inside of me that drove me crazy.

I didn’t need to tell Maddox to fuck me; he knew. Maddox was an animal when he fucked, all grunts and hard thrusts. He didn’t care if it was uncomfortable for me, if I didn’t enjoy it like he did. Maybe that’s why he had the nickname Mad Maddox; maybe it wasn’t because he could snap on a dime and kill someone. Maybe it was because he was a fucking monster when his cock was in the picture.

His hands dug into my hips, the entire car rocking with the hard fucking he gave me. Low, gruff grunts came from him, music to my ears. He played my body like he’d played it so many times before, but a performance like that… let’s just say it never got old.

Through the grunts, I heard footsteps coming nearer, and I turned my head to see one of the bouncers from the club walking to his car. When he saw us, he stopped, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t ask us what we were doing; it was more than obvious to anyone with eyes or ears. Though he probably couldn’t see much due to the lack of light, he saw enough.

Maddox’s pace slowed, and I knew exactly why that was—he didn’t want that guy to see or hear us. If anyone had the most trouble coming to terms with sharing me, I’d say it was him. He’d held out that he’d hated me for so long, longer than Sylvester and Viper. And right now, he probably wanted to go beat the shit out of that guy.

Knowing what was on his mind, I said, “Don’t stop. Keep going. I need more, Maddox. If you can’t give it to me, maybe I should go ask him—”

Maddox’s cock jerked inside me, his entire body heaving against mine, pinning my entire front to the car. AKA, he reacted exactly how I knew he would.

“Like fucking hell would I ever let that happen,” he growled out, practically seething, but his fucking resumed, though harder than it had been before. Rougher. More animalistic, as if he was purposefully claiming me like this in front of the bouncer.

The bouncer, I noticed, resumed his pace to his car, but once he was inside, he didn’t drive away. He wanted to watch the show.

So we gave him one.

Maddox did so aggressively, but it was still a show. And fuck, did it feel good. Almost enough to make me forget why we were out here to begin with. His cock really could work wonders. A magic stick through and through.

Maddox’s thrusting became swifter pumps of his cock the second he started to unravel. I grinned at nothing in particular, knowing he was about to erupt within me and spray me with his cum. There really was nothing like soaked panties to remind you of the dirty deeds you’d been a part of.

He let out a low “Fuck” when he came, pushing his thick member as deep into me as he could, filling me up with his cum. I took it, still wearing that silly smile, welcoming each and every drop inside me.

As if knowing we were done fucking, the bouncer started up his car and drove off after peeling the tires. Maddox yanked himself out of me and stuffed his cock away, watching him go with a scowl on his face as I righted myself and fixed my dress and panties.

“He’s lucky he got out of here,” Maddox growled out. “Otherwise I might’ve put a bullet in him.” He never joked about killing people; he was always one hundred percent serious—something I loved about him.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go. I’ve had enough of this for one night.” And I didn’t mean the fucking or the exhibitionism. No, I meant hunting for this damned serial killer. Without another word, I headed to the passenger seat and got in.

Maddox was in the car shortly after, starting her up and getting us the fuck out of there. As he drove, I stared out of the window, leaning my face against my hand. My mask felt heavy hanging around my neck. It was as if the weight of the world resided in its steel.

“You know,” Maddox started, tossing me a look, “I understand why you want to find this guy, but… even if he’s doing it for you, it’s not your responsibility to catch him. As long as we stay vigilant, we’ll get him sooner or later. I still don’t see the use in going out every night trying to find him.”

Maddox still didn’t think it was for me, even after he’d seen Tina’s lip-less, cheek-less head and listened to the tape I’d been sent. I think he was trying to be ignorant on purpose. Ignorance was bliss and all that. At least Viper and Sylvester were on the same page as me when it came to this fucker.

“All those girls that died by his hand died because of me,” I said.

“Who’s to say the asshole wouldn’t have still killed girls? We don’t know if that girl at the morgue was the first one. He could’ve been killing for years and covering it up.” Maddox paused. “Maybe he just saw you stroll into town, do what you do, and… you know, decide to take shit up with you. Still doesn’t mean you’re responsible.”

“He’s taunting me.”

“I know, and we’ll get him, but I don’t think we need to go out constantly to do it.”

I knew what Maddox was trying to say. I was no hero. None of us were. If anything, we were the villains, the bad guys, the ones who made movies and TV shows interesting… and if there’s one thing I’d learned in my life, it’s that the bad guys never survived long. Even the ones that tried to make amends and fix themselves always ended up sacrificing themselves for the heroes.

It was true: I didn’t want to die. I didn’t have a death wish anymore, but… this serial killer, if I had to die to take him down, I would. I might not be a hero, my hands might be bloodier than your average American’s, but I wouldn’t let myself sit back and watch as he continued to kill and mutilate and rape more girls in my city. Whether Maddox understood it or not, I didn’t care.

I wouldn’t stop until we found this sick son of a bitch and I gutted him.

“If you don’t want to help anymore, don’t,” I told him. “You might be used to sitting around and doing nothing, but I’m a doer, and I’m not going to act like he’s not out there, plotting his next kill, because he is. I know he is. And when he surfaces again, I’m going to catch him and I’m going to kill him—with or without your help.” The more I spoke, the firmer my voice became.

Maddox sighed, muttering under his breath, “Of course I’m fucking helping. You’re my girl, and I ain’t gonna let you go off and do your thing by yourself.” Again, he sighed. “I just wish we could be done with this whole thing already.”

I wished that, too. How badly I wished that.

When we arrived at my place, Maddox offered to sleep over, but I told him I’d be fine. If he wanted to, he could come over once the sun was up, but for now, he could go home. Viper and Big Mike were home already, so they’d be all the company I needed.

Big Mike had hit the sack, but Viper was awake and waiting for me in my bedroom. He had the small lamp on beside the bed, reading a book. Yes, an actual book to pass the time. What a weirdo. But he was my weirdo.

His hazel eyes lifted up from the book, watching as I came in and crawled onto the bed with him, heels and all. The only thing I took off was my mask, setting it on the nightstand near the lamp.

He was slow to close the book. “How did it go at the club?” He wore shorts and a baggy shirt, his nighttime ensemble when he wasn’t sleeping naked beside me after some wild fucking, his brown hair a little messy. Normally its length was slicked back, but at night, after a long day, it got all cute and unkempt.

I scooted towards him, burying my face against his side. Viper responded by curling an arm around me, holding me close to him. “Same as always,” I muttered. “I think he’s watching me, laughing at me, and it drives me nuts.”

We’d installed a whole bunch of cameras around the house, just in case he ever decided to leave me another present. We’d hidden the cameras too, so it wasn’t obvious the house was being watched.

Viper heaved a sigh, his arm tightening around my back. “We’ll get him, Lola. We’ll get him, one way or another. He’ll surface soon enough, and when he does, we’ll be ready to catch him.”

I hoped he was right, but I had my doubts. Something told me it was going to get worse before it got better. I didn’t say that out loud, though, simply wanting to bask in Viper’s presence. He had a calming way about him that Maddox and Sylvester didn’t; it called back to a time when he was nothing but my bodyguard, someone set to watch me so I didn’t try to escape or do anything stupid. A simpler time all around.

I was never alone anymore. It… was kind of annoying, really, but I guess that’s something I’d have to get used to.

It’s funny. You’d think I’d be grateful to no longer be alone, that I’d like being surrounded by men who were both loyal to me and ones who loved me—me, a monster in my own right, someone who’d done such awful things in her life, things that should render me undeserving of love in general.

I should be happy, but I wasn’t.

How could I be happy when I knew that serial killer was still out there?

Chapter Two – Maddox

Sylvester had some important meeting today. It’s why he’d bailed on us early last night, so he could go home and sleep like some loser. When I asked him about it, all he said was he was meeting with one of the mayoral candidates—I didn’t really give a shit about politics, whether it was underground criminal politics or actual fucking politics.

But he thought it was important to meet with the candidate with the highest numbers and make sure he knew who was really in charge of this city—make buddy-buddy with him while simultaneously putting his foot down. I supposed that was pretty important; being at odds with the mayor was something to avoid. The current mayor was some old schmuck who didn’t give a flying fuck what went on in this city, but he was losing to some younger guy, I guess. A family man, from what Sylvester had described.

But I digress about that shit. I’d leave Sylvester to finagle his way around the political office holders while I occupied my time with something else.

Like Lola.

When I went to Lola’s place, I found her sitting on the front steps with Harvey. They were talking about the date he’d been on last night, to which I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes as I strolled up to them.

Sylvester hated Harvey. He didn’t trust him. Me? I couldn’t say that I trusted Harvey either, even if it was thanks to his quick thinking that Lola was able to inherit the DeLuca mansion and fortune.

“I’m glad she thinks your awkwardness is endearing,” Lola was busy saying, her blue eyes on Harvey as he drank from a to-go cup. “I was worried for a while there, Harvey, not gonna lie. You take some getting used to.” When she saw me walk up, her lips spread into a smile. She wore leggings and a baggy tank top—and judging from the points of her nipples against her shirt, no bra.

My jaw ground in jealousy, because no one should be seeing those nipples brushing up against any fabric, but it didn’t look like Harvey was ogling her tits. If his gaze dropped there, even if it was just for one second, I’d do us all a favor and fucking kill him.

“Wow,” Harvey deadpanned, running a hand through his light brown hair, his gray eyes wincing a bit. “Tell me how you really feel about me.” That gaze of his darted to me, and he gave me a nod. “Morning, Maddox.”

“Morning,” I huffed, stopping when I stood beside Lola on the steps. I bent down, grabbed her neck, forced her to angle back, and kissed her, claiming that mouth in front of Harvey to remind him that she was a taken woman. He might be seeing someone, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t angling to get between Lola’s legs, too.

Lola hummed into the kiss, and when I let her go and straightened out, I watched her lick her lips, like the kiss had been laced with candy. “You should go inside and see how breakfast is coming along. Viper’s cooking, for once, and I’m a little concerned.” Big Mike was usually the breakfast guy.

“Breakfast?” I echoed. “It’s almost noon—”

“Yeah, well, somebody kept me out late last night,” Lola spoke with a ridiculous amount of sarcasm, as if it had been my idea to stalk the club until it closed last night. “So, breakfast at noon it is.”

Harvey’s voice got quiet, like he didn’t want anyone eavesdropping even though we were the only ones around, “Still nothing on the serial killer front?” Harvey, I guess, was Lola’s new BFF. The two hung out and gossiped even though it drove my brother crazy.

Me, too. It drove me crazy, too.

We still hadn’t met this Giulia chick. Who knew? She might not be real. It was a possibility Sylvester had brought it up before, and Lola never wanted to picture her sweet, awkward driver as the serial killer we were looking for. I mean, if we were searching for a guy who knew our inner workings, who better than Harvey?

But I didn’t get that vibe off him, and I doubted he was that good of an actor.

I guess that’s the thing, though: sometimes you never knew who you were looking at until they showed you their true face. The jury was out on Harvey for now, and my dislike and distrust of him would remain.

“No,” Lola said, the dejection evident in her tone. “Nothing. You’re sure Bianca never dealt with anyone who liked to mutilate girls in his free time?” A desperate stab in the dark, if I ever heard one.

“Unfortunately, no,” he told her. “Bianca liked doing her own dirty work as long as she stayed clean doing it. A person like that she would’ve viewed as a filthy degenerate.”

“You don’t think she would’ve tried to control him like she tried doing to me?”

Harvey thought on that. “Maybe. Hard to say now, since she’s dead.” He took another sip of his coffee, and on that note, I abandoned them to their talk and turned toward the front door, pushing inside the house.

I found Viper in the kitchen, cooking a heaping of sausage. I slid onto one of the stools near the island, leaning my arms on the granite counter. “I see Harvey’s here,” I muttered. “Doesn’t that guy have any friends of his own?” Honestly, I didn’t know why we kept him around, why Lola was so against us killing him. We didn’t need him. She didn’t need her own driver; she had us.

“From what I understand, no,” Viper muttered, shooting me a glance over his shoulder. He wore a tight dark blue t-shirt, the snake tattoos on his arms visible for the world to see. His hair was slicked back, his usual appearance. “He devoted all of his time to the Bloody Princess before Lola took her down.”

Hmm. I didn’t get it. I just didn’t get it, no matter how hard I tried to.

“I don’t understand why she likes him so much,” I said, picking at the granite before me, at no spot in particular. “Sylvester’s right. We shouldn’t trust him.” As I spoke that, Big Mike walked into the kitchen, a towel wrapped around his neck. Sweat lined his clothes and his skin; the big man had been working out, if I had to guess.

“Hey,” I got his attention while he got a sports drink from the fridge, “why don’t you do us all a favor and kill Harvey for us?”

Mike shot me a glare. He and Viper were brothers, twins, and yet they looked so different. Mike was, obviously, bigger all around. Taller, more muscular, like a mountain made into a man. No tattoos. His brown hair was long and thick, but right now it was pulled into a low ponytail to get it out of his face.

Viper just sighed, while Mike took his time in saying, “Unless that’s an order, I’ll pass.”

Right when I opened my mouth to make it an order, Viper said, “Don’t, Maddox. Lola will kill him if he does, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want her to kill him.”

It was as I sighed and mumbled something about how these guys were no fun whatsoever that Big Mike took a long, hard swig from his drink, eyeing me up all the while. He set it down on the counter near me and said, “If you want the guy dead, kill him yourself.”

A good suggestion, of course, but I also didn’t want Lola to hate me for it. It might be fun to mix pain with pleasure when it came to our love and our fucking, but I knew Lola would be downright furious if I went so far as to kill her precious little Harvey.

Here I thought she had a thing for taking girls under her wing, but she’d done exactly that to Harvey. Go fucking figure.

“I would if I could,” I mumbled.

It was like Lola knew what we were discussing, because right then, she came strolling in, staring squarely at me as she hopped onto the stool beside me. “What would you do?” she asked, lifting her blond brows in curiosity.

“Kill Harvey,” Big Mike said.

Lola glared at me, but I had to shoot Mike my own glare and ask, “Aren’t you supposed to be the quiet one or something? Jesus fuck.” When I met Lola’s accusatory stare once more, I added, “Listen, I’m just saying, he’s always here. It’s getting kind of old, especially with everything going on.”

“Stop it,” she said. “All of you. Leave Harvey alone. He’s a good guy. He’s not involved in any of this. I just want the guy to be happy, okay? Like a mother bird pushing its chick out of the nest—”

“But you’re not Harvey’s mother,” I reminded her.

“So? Right now, he’s the one piece of normal I have, so yeah, I’m holding onto him.” She leaned closer to me, narrowing her eyes. “And if any harm comes to a single hair on his head, I’ll know who to blame—you.”

I scoffed at that. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s not fair. This city’s dangerous. Someone could put a cap in him just driving by. That wouldn’t be my fault…” The more I said, the more I realized Lola would still blame me for it, somehow, and that got me to shut the fuck up about it.

Fine. No killing Harvey.

“Speaking of dates,” Lola said, changing the subject, no longer glowering in my direction. She set an elbow on the granite and leaned her chin on her hand as she stared at the tallest guy in the room. “You got any gals in your life, big guy?” Her tone was almost flirtatious… almost. “When’s the last time you got laid, hmm?”

My mouth fell open at Lola’s line of questioning, and I was slow to turn my face toward Big Mike, watching his reaction. His hazel eyes were on Lola, and his expression gave nothing away. I shouldn’t be shocked at Lola’s questions; she didn’t know what boundaries were. Although, now that I was thinking about it, I couldn’t say that I’d ever seen or heard about him with anyone.

Fuck. When was the last time the dude got laid?

“On that note,” Viper cut in, “food’s ready.” He hurriedly shoveled stuff onto a few plates, distracting Lola enough to give Big Mike a temporary reprieve from her nosy question. He left the kitchen shortly after that, leaving Lola with Viper and me.

She whined when she saw he left, stabbing one of her sausages with a fork before lifting it to her mouth. “Poor guy. I’m just saying, we should make sure he’s taken care of, too.” She chewed thoughtfully, while Viper and I exchanged looks.

I wasn’t too hungry, because I’d eaten before coming over, but I still made myself eat what Viper had made. Sausage and pancakes. Slather that bitch in butter and syrup and you had some good shit.

“Wonder what Big Mike is packing under the hood.” Lola’s random comment nearly made me choke, while Viper coughed right into his coffee. When both Viper and I glared at her, she shrugged. “What? I’m just wondering if he’s called Big Mike because he’s so tall or if there’s, you know, a different reason.” Her lips curled into a sly grin, and she continued to eat, acting oblivious to the way Viper and I glared at her.

Viper ran a hand down the side of his face as he set down his cup. “I don’t want to think about my brother’s dick—”

I was too busy still glaring at my girl, my teeth grinding, to pay attention to what Viper said after that. Lola didn’t seem to mind the glare. “You shouldn’t be thinking of his dick, either,” I pointed out. None of us should, really.

She puckered her lips at me. “Come on, Mads. Every girl who looks at that man wonders what he’s like in the sack. That’s just nature. He is a manly man—” The more she spoke, the more I was thankful the guy in question wasn’t here to hear all of this. He might start to get the wrong idea, like Lola had a crush on him or something.

She didn’t.

Did she?

I leaned toward her, my voice quiet as I whispered, “Don’t fucking tell me you want him, too.” I’d known Big Mike for years, ever since I was a kid. He and Viper were a few years older than me, but we’d pretty much grown up together. Got into shit together. The Milanos were a well-respected family in this city too, just like us.

Dying out too, just like us.

Viper had heard what I’d said, his hazel eyes on Lola, waiting to hear her respond. He’d frozen up, his fork hanging with a bite of sausage in midair. I was too focused on Lola to pay much attention to him, to see whether or not he’d be down for his brother to join us.

Fuck. It was already hard enough being with Lola while knowing two others were, too. It didn’t matter that Sylvester was my brother or that I trusted Viper. It wasn’t like sharing was something I was used to, long-term. Threesomes? Yeah. Foursomes? Fuck yeah—but never with my brother. Not until Lola.

“I’m not saying I’m in love with the guy,” Lola said. “Just that I’ve wondered.” She cut into her pancakes, stuffing a huge bite in her mouth. She didn’t even wait to swallow before saying what she said next: “I’d be down to give him some physical relief, remind him what being with a girl is like.” She giggled, swallowing her mouthful before glancing at both Viper and me. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do it unless we talked about it, first.” She booped us both on the nose.

Yeah, booped. Like we were kids or something. Fuck that.

“Let’s pick a different conversation topic,” I muttered, grinding my teeth.

“Yes, please,” Viper agreed.

Lola dropped it, thank fucking God. She started talking about Harvey’s date last night—something else I didn’t give two shits about, but it was better than her suggesting she sleep with Mike just to give him some physical relief since he hadn’t been with a woman in fuck knew how long.

I was a jealous person, naturally. I think it was due to the fact that I’d never really let myself get tied down by a single girl, so I’d never had reason to be jealous. Figured, the girl that I loved would not only be my brother’s killer, but also my other brother’s chick, too. And Viper’s. I went from nothing to everything real fucking fast.

So, yeah, I was jealous. So what? Sue me.

Having her hook up with Big Mike would be better than some rando on the street, but still—ugh, fuck. Now she had me picturing the two of them together. I needed a shower. A brain shower to wash those thoughts out of my head.

“Do you know anyone named Giulia?” Lola asked. “Harvey met her in a bar the DeLucas liked going to. Newton owns it, now. I was too busy talking to him to see her, but I guess she came up to him and found his awkwardness endearing.” She tapped her fork on the edge of her plate, contemplating.

Finally, something that would get my mind off Mike sticking his dick in Lola. I shook my head and said, “I don’t know any Giulia.” And I knew a lot of girls from this city, from my partying days… which, admittedly, wasn’t that long ago, all things considered.

Viper spoke, “Me either. Do we have a last name? We could look her up that way, if you’re that curious.” He pulled out his phone, ready to do some internet snooping. AKA the easiest kind of stalking there was these days, since everybody loved putting each and every aspect of their lives online, as if the world cared.

Lola was quiet for a moment. “I know what her favorite color is and what food she likes to eat, but I don’t think he’s ever spoken her last name. I’ll have to ask him next time I see him—or I could text him and tell him to come back here so we can grill him some more—”

At that suggestion, both Viper and I were quick to say, “No.”

Her sapphire gaze flicked between us. “Sheesh. You two are no fun at all.”

I think we all knew by now Lola’s idea of fun was vastly different than most people’s, but neither Viper nor I argued with her there. Obviously, we didn’t want Harvey to come back. Unlike her, neither of us gave a shit about Harvey’s love life and who this Giulia chick was. I didn’t need to squint to imagine what kind of weird chick would fall for Harvey’s personality, assuming she was real. The dude was weird, but there were equally as weird ladies out there, too.

We finished breakfast, and I helped Viper clean the kitchen. Lola went to work out, turning on some Frank Sinatra music on her phone before trailing down the hall. That left Viper and me.

I watched Viper load the dishwasher and start her up. He went to a corner cabinet, pulled out some cleaning spray, and began wiping down the island countertop, where we ate. I didn’t know what possessed me to say what I said next: “I bet you’d be okay with Lola banging your brother.”

Viper’s wiping of the counter slowed to a halt. “We’re back on this?” He groaned, shaking his head at me. “I didn’t say that.”

“So, you wouldn’t be okay with it?”

“I… didn’t say that, either.”

I folded my arms over my chest, narrowing my stare. “It’s either one or the other, Viper. Either you’d be okay with it or you wouldn’t be, so which one is it?” I didn’t know why I was asking. I guess, now that I’d thought about it, he and Mike lived here with her now. She saw Mike a lot more than she used to. It wouldn’t be completely out of left field if she started to have feelings for him…

But that wasn’t what she’d said. What Lola had said was that she’d fuck him. That’s it. Fucking and having feelings were two different things. Hmm. If I had to choose one that was worse, I… I might pick the latter.

Of course, that’s coming from someone who used to fuck a different girl every weekend.

“I don’t know,” Viper relented. “He’s my brother. I love him. I trust him. If there’s another guy out there that I’d trust with Lola, it’s him. I’m not saying I’d be thrilled, but…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

I let out a groan, pushing away from the counter and heading to the stairwell. My goal was to find Lola. Maybe I’d work out with her. Maybe I’d watch her do her thing. Maybe I’d distract her in a way only I could to get my mind off the whole Mike thing.

Lola had changed one of the many bedrooms in this mansion to a dedicated workout room. It was very similar in design to the one we had at our house, every single machine and weight lifting setup shiny and new. A treadmill, an area with a large punching bag; you name it and this house had it. The only thing it didn’t have was a practice range, where she could work on her aim when it came to guns. She didn’t like using guns, though. Getting up close and personal with her targets was half the fun, in her eyes.

God. She really was one crazy bitch, huh? It wasn’t a wonder why I’d fallen for her, in spite of how much I should hate her for what she did.

The sound of Frank Sinatra blasting was the first thing I heard in the hall as I approached the exercise room. She had a thing for older music, the weirdo. Something about its soulfulness or something. I didn’t know.

I found her on the treadmill, full-out running. Her long, blond hair was drawn up into a tight, high ponytail, swaying with every step she took. She’d changed into a sports bra and nothing else, her flat stomach showing. The top half of her thick scar showed above her leggings, a reminder of everything she’d been through before stumbling into my life.

I couldn’t imagine it. I didn’t want to. How she still stood, alive, was a fucking miracle. Having the urge to kill people was reasonable after living through her terrible flavor of childhood. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that she didn’t view sex as special, either.

When she saw me, she smiled. “You want to work out with me, bae?”

Bae. As much as I wanted to mock her for calling me that, I didn’t. I simply got on the nearest weight machine and started lifting. I didn’t bring any extra clothes, but that was fine. If I got super sweaty, I was sure Big Mike had something I could take. Viper’s clothes would probably be a tad small on me.

At least working out got my mind off things. I could close my eyes and focus on the burning of my muscles, on the repetitive movements. Time didn’t matter. Lola had Frank Sinatra blasting on the speakers in the room through the Bluetooth on her phone, so I was able to judge how long I did certain things by how many songs passed.

Eventually, I got myself on the weight bench and started bench pressing. Sweat lined my brow, my shirt sticking to me. Lola had transferred to the punching bag, but I could tell based on the sounds of her punching that she split her time between focusing on the bag and on watching me.

Maybe I should’ve taken my shirt off to give her more of a show.

I smirked to myself, but I didn’t get up to do it. I breathed out, focusing on the bar and the weight above me. Getting distracted now would be a bad, bad thing. It’s why, really, you should have someone spotting you when you did this, just in case something happened, but who had time for safety when you were a mafia boss’s son?

Man, I wondered how my father was doing, living in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. I was still kinda pissed that he’d left in the middle of that shit with the Bloody Princess. I guess he’d been miserable a lot longer than Sylvester or I’d known, long before Lola had killed Mario. Still, you’d think he wouldn’t just up and leave everything, especially in the middle of something big like that.

He didn’t even call us. He didn’t try to stay in touch or ask us how things were going here. It was like he’d cut all ties, almost like being around Sylvester and I reminded him too much of everything he’d lost.

Whatever. If he wanted to be a little pansy shit, let him. It wasn’t any sweat off my back. He could become a fucking lumberjack for all I cared, and we’d be just fine here… even if, you know, there was a serial killer we couldn’t catch running around and killing.

The sound of Lola punching the bag stopped altogether, and I was pretty sure I heard her approach my reclining figure. I didn’t stop lifting, needing to blow off more steam now that I was thinking of my stupid father.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re fucking hot when you’re working out?” Lola asked, and I could hear the smirk in her tone. “When that little bit of skin is peeking out, right between your pants and where your shirt has ridden up a bit. I want to lick it.”

Well… fuck. How could I continue working out when she wanted to lick me?

I set the bar up, the muscles on my arms burning with heat. I didn’t move. All I said was, “Then lick it.” As I said the words, my cock twitched in my pants. There was no innocent licking where Lola was concerned. None whatsoever.

Lola didn’t hesitate; she straddled me on the bench, yanked up my shirt further, and lowered her face to my abdomen. Her tongue flicked out, and she licked a straight line up, from the waistline of my pants to where my shirt started, in between my abs. Her tongue was wet and warm, and when I felt it touch me, my cock stirred even more.

“I can think of something else you could lick,” I murmured, my eyes open slits.

“Your toes?” she deadpanned.

“You know damn well I don’t mean my fucking toes,” I hissed out. In fact, my toes were the last place on my body I’d want that tongue. Literally.

Lola knew exactly what I meant, because in the next moment, she flipped her position, straddling my stomach and giving me a nice view of her ass—would’ve been better if she was naked, but hey, if that mouth was about to touch my dick, I’d be happy.

Her fingers worked to undo my pants, pushing everything down just enough to get my cock out. I didn’t need to see it to know it was rock hard, ready for some service. When she wrapped a hand around it and pumped once, I groaned.

“I do love your dick,” she purred out, her frame hunching over. She had to bring her knees up near my armpits to get enough of an angle to meet my cock with her lips, and she swirled her tongue around the tip in an agonizingly slow tease.

“Goddamn it, woman,” I growled out. If I wasn’t lying down, I’d force my cock into that supple mouth, but I was at a disadvantage with my position. She had me, and she could be as slow and as teasing as she wanted with me… unless I rolled her off me.

I did like being on top better. Setting the pace for us both, ramming my cock as hard as I could into whatever orifice I was currently fucking. Sometimes I even played a game with myself and tried to see what kind of sounds I could force Lola to make.

But, for whatever reason, I let her have her fun with me here, let her stay on top and do whatever she wanted with my hard cock. If she wanted to lick me like a lollipop until I exploded, I wouldn’t stop her. The only thing that I’d stop her from doing was involving those teeth of hers. Teeth and dick didn’t mix well.

My eyes closed, and I surrendered to the sensation of Lola’s mouth around my cock. The way her tongue swirled around my tip, how she licked up any precum that might’ve oozed out. I grew hot for another reason entirely then, my skin on fire.

Lola made me want to fuck her like no one’s business. Hell, if we never left the house again, I’d be more than fine with it. Who needed the world outside when the fucking universe was bottled up in that crazy little body?

I grabbed hold of her thighs, the only thing I could get a good grip on given my position, moaning out a stifled grunt. She worked me like she’d never worked me before, pleasure shooting through my veins at an alarming rate. My hips began to thrust on their own, taking up a natural pace even though I still wasn’t the one in charge.

One of her hands curled around my ballsack, massaging me while her other hand went to my length and helped milk me with her mouth. The pleasure racketed up a few notches, and I couldn’t think straight. The only thing I wanted was to come, and by fucking God, Lola was going to swallow up every single drop of cum I gave her.

And she would, because that’s what she did.

My entire body tensed up, my balls tightening in her grip as the pleasure became too much for me. A louder groan came from my lungs, my cock spewing its load into her mouth, shot after shot, only stopping when it was emptied. She hummed as she swallowed me up, sounding giddy.

Okay, fuck that. I needed to take her to her bedroom and fuck her right this instant.

I forced myself into a sitting position, causing Lola to take her mouth off my cock. She slid forward on me, and she would’ve fallen off the bench if I hadn’t caught her by the tits. Her ass had fallen to my exposed cock in the process, her back to me still. She didn’t seem to mind, because she ground that round ass upon me, further driving me crazy.

That was the thing about Lola Harding. She knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say, to rev you up. She knew how to work you, how to play you, and make you so addicted you never wanted anything else. I never, ever thought I’d become a one-woman man, but… here I was. Here she was. Together, we painted such a horrific, bloody picture.

In the next moment, I’d gotten off the bench and let Lola go only so I could put myself away. Then I grabbed her and threw her over my shoulder like she weighed nothing. Which she didn’t. Not really. Not to me. We were out of the exercise room, leaving Frank Sinatra behind.

Lola’s body swayed with every step I took, and I slapped her ass, not saying a single word to her as I carried her to the stairs. Up we went.

My destination was her room, but we passed Viper’s, and since the door was open and I saw he was in there, I pounded on it as I walked by, saying, “Viper, come to Lola’s room. Now.” My voice came out gruff and commanding, my cock still rock-hard in my pants.

I didn’t need a break. I could fuck Lola and come all over again, let her cunt do the milking this time. My stamina was nothing to laugh at. But, what could I say? I was feeling the need to do a little double-teaming.

My mind flashed back to the day when I’d forced Lola to suck Viper off; I’d gotten pissed and jealous, but also insanely turned on. It helped that I’d been watching porn prior to that, but still.

I wanted another dick to ream into her, and the only other one in this house belonged to Big Mike, and that… I still didn’t quite like the mental image of that.

“Maddox?” If Viper had looked up to see, he was too late. We’d already passed his room. By the time he caught up with us, I’d already barged into Lola’s room and threw her on the bed, watching as her body bounced on the mattress. He came to stand beside me, asking, “What is it?” Before he could say anything else, his hazel eyes dipped to take in the hard cock tenting the fabric of my clothes. “Oh. Why…”

Lola must’ve known what was on my mind, for she answered for us both, “He wants to watch you take me, Viper. Or maybe he wants to watch me swallow you, too.” She licked her lips in such a seductive manner, I nearly self-orgasmed right there.

I didn’t, though.

I worked to take off my shirt, yanking down my pants next. “You heard the lady,” I hissed out, frowning at Viper, who still stood beside me, motionless, as if he needed step by step instructions on what to do.

Lola slipped out of her sports bra, flinging it at Viper. It landed on his head, dropping to cover his face, and she chuckled, her bare tits jiggling as she did so. She didn’t seem to give a shit that the door was open, although I didn’t think any of us cared too much. Big Mike might’ve seen things, he might hear things every now and then, but as of right now, he was not welcome to join us.

Not sure how that would work with him and Viper, anyway. Sylvester and I were brothers, yes, but not by blood. Still, I did prefer no dicks crossing, if you know what I mean. Sylvester felt the same.

Viper tore off the sports bra, dropping it to the floor. He needed no extra guidance; he was down to have some fun with us, judging by how fast he tore off his clothes and how quickly that slithering cock of his sprang up into action. Viper might not have the same girth as me, but his dick might’ve been longer.

Maybe. I didn’t know. I didn’t take a ruler to it or anything—and I definitely wasn’t hardcore comparing dicks.

Viper took Lola by the throat, yanking her toward the edge of the bed. He pulled her up, kissed her hard, and then threw her back down, letting her throat go so he could help her out of those form-fitting tights. Or leggings. Or whatever the fuck they were called. Those things curved along her ass like nobody’s business.

I took a hand to my length, working along myself slowly. Didn’t want to pump along myself too hard while I watched everything unfold in front of me; the next time I came, I wanted to be buried in that pussy.

Lola’s legs hung over the edge of the bed, and without another word, Viper dropped between them, sinking to his knees. If the breathy sigh that came from Lola immediately after that meant anything, I’d say his tongue work was just as good as Lola’s had been on me. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she took a hand to his head, digging her fingers in his hair. Not long after that, she started to rock her hips.

Not going to lie, watching her, watching them, was hot as fuck. Lola was death incarnate, and she was just as gorgeous as ever. No one here was concerned with the scar on her belly. It was as if it no longer existed to any of us.

“Oh, God,” Lola murmured, her chest heaving with ragged, uneven breaths. “Fuck, Viper, that feels so good. Don’t stop.” Practically begging him to keep going, begging him to give her a release.

A part of me wanted to let her come undone from his tongue, but another part of me wanted to be a little cruel. A little vicious. Maybe a small part of me was still a little pissed off at the conversation we’d had in the kitchen about Big Mike… so, yeah, I felt a bit vindictive. What could I say?

I released my cock, moving closer to the two before me. I set a hand on Viper’s shoulder, yanking him back, and with my other, I took Lola by the throat and pinned her back on the bed. Her legs remained open, and she didn’t fight me on it, but she whined. She stared up at me with those big, blue eyes, and she let out a whine that told me just how close to an orgasm she was.

“No,” I told her, growling out the word. My fingers tightened around her throat, choking her out enough to make her gasp for air. “I don’t think you’ve earned yourself an orgasm yet.” I pulled her up and yanked her off the bed, dropping her to her knees before Viper, who’d straightened himself out and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. “He’s going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours until he comes, and when he does, you’re going to swallow him up just like you did me—and then maybe I’ll let you come next.”

That wasn’t a promise, though.

Viper didn’t need to be told anything else. He grabbed the back of her head, and as she parted her lips, glaring at me all the while, he pushed his cock into her throat. As he began to rock his hips and fuck her mouth, he threw his head back and groaned, the carnal bliss he felt written on his every feature.

I swore, all those serpent tattoos he had moved each and every time he thrust his hips. He’d gotten so many, all at once, everywhere on his body, that it was only natural to call him Viper. Before that, he’d been Little Vinny, even though he wasn’t so little. Only compared to his mountain of a brother. Little Vinny and Big Mike. Viper fit him better now.

I could see Lola’s hands creeping along her thighs, like she was going to try and touch herself while he fucked her face, so I said, “Hold up.” Viper’s fucking slowed to a halt, and I gestured for him to step back—which he did, making Lola move on her knees with him. I slipped behind her, situated between her back and the edge of the bed, and without a word, I bent down, grabbed her hands and went to hold them behind her back.

There. Now she wouldn’t be able to flick that bean while getting face-fucked nice and hard by Viper’s snake.

Hey, I’d much rather be jerking myself off while watching Viper go at her, but this was good, too. Knowing how badly she wanted to come while also knowing I was denying her the release, turned me on in a way I couldn’t describe. This chick was bringing out kinks in me I didn’t know I had.

Lola could do nothing but kneel there and take every pound of Viper’s cock. His eyes were open in slits, and he watched her beneath him with a hazy lust clouding his expression. He became an animal fucking her face—not that I could blame him. Again, this girl had a habit of bringing that out of us.

His whole body lurched forward when he came, his chest reverberating with a grunt as he pushed his cock deep into her throat. I imagined him coming, filling her with his seed, and she could do nothing but take it like a good girl. A good girl who was basically being forced to take it… but those were the games we liked to play. Gentle love wasn’t our thing.

As Viper withdrew himself from her mouth, I said, “Help me get her on the bed.”

Together, Viper and I lifted Lola onto the bed, putting her on her back. She licked the corners of her lips, staring squarely at me as she cocked a single blond brow. It was as if she wordlessly asked me: are you going to let me come now?

I didn’t know the answer to that question yet.

Viper had once again positioned himself between her legs. I sat near her head. I gave Viper a quick nod, letting him know he could get to work on that space between her thighs once more, although at this point, I didn’t know whether I’d stop him again or not.

Based on the sounds Lola instantly made, like she’d just hopped in a cool pool of water after wandering through the desert, I’d say she was more than ready to come. She was fucking desperate for it, the feeling of a release coursing through her body and temporarily taking away all of her worries.

I watched Lola’s body, how she reacted to each and every movement of Viper’s mouth on her apex. I listened to all the sounds that escaped her, memorizing each and every one. I didn’t intervene, didn’t stop Viper from vigorously eating that pussy out until I saw her eyes close and her body start to tense up, and then…

Then I tore Viper’s head away from her apex and hissed at her, “If you’re going to come, it’s going to be around my cock.”

Lola whined, gripping onto the bedsheets below her. “Why are you being so mean right now? Come on. I didn’t sign up for this shit—” Even at that, she had to smirk at me. We both knew she’d never signed up for anything. She’d thought we would kill her.

Look at us now.

I traded places with Viper, though I paused to roll her over onto her stomach and get her on her hands and knees, doggie-style. Ass in the air, never before had there been a better view of that round ass.

My cock needed no help in finding that cunt, and I pushed inside of her with one thrust of my hips. God, she really did feel like heaven. People like us weren’t meant to get a taste of heaven, but that had to be what this was: fucking heaven. Literally.

The pace I took up with her was anything but gentle. Hard and fast, we made the bed rock, even with Viper’s addition on it. Lola unraveled on my cock within the minute, coming so hard she couldn’t even hold herself up; her top half collapsed on the bed, her face burying in the sheets as she cried out, her inner core tightening around my length. It seemed to go on forever, a powerful orgasm after being denied for so long. I wasn’t going to complain. It felt fucking amazing to continue ramming into her while she came.

Viper watched. He’d sat back and taken a hand to his cock, pumping along its length quickly, keeping pace with my fucking of Lola’s pussy.

All in all, it was just another day. A good day. Any day that involved fucking Lola was a good day in my book. If I could, all of my days and nights would be spent buried inside her. If either of us could walk after, I called it a failed fucking.

I came with a roar of my own lungs, once again emptying myself inside her, although this time was the opposite end. Her pussy took my cum just as greedily as her mouth had, and I had to take a moment to bask in the perfection that was an orgasm inside Lola.

Viper’s hand had stopped; I could tell he wanted to take my place behind her and fuck her after me. Who was I to say no? So, as much as I didn’t want to pull out of her cunt and hand her over, I did just that. I crawled up to the headboard, fluffed up some pillows for my back, and got ready to watch Viper and Lola yet again.

This time he’d be fucking her with my cum still inside her. This time he’d feel not only her arousal, but mine as well. Didn’t know why, but that was kind of hot.

Except, right when Viper began to thrust into her, someone else strolled into the room, holding onto what looked like Lola’s phone. Big Mike walked in, totally oblivious to all the nakedness going on, saying, “Someone keeps calling and interrupting the music—” Finally, the big man stopped when he stood less than ten feet from the bed, his gaze taking us all in.

As Big Mike’s gaze took each of us in—more specifically Lola and her naked form—all Viper could let out was an “Uh.” I didn’t try to say anything, because I kind of wanted him to see that we had her and he didn’t.

But Lola, being Lola, grinned at him and asked, “Like what you see, big guy?” She might’ve winked at him too, but I wasn’t sure about that. She didn’t care that Viper was balls-deep in her and that she was on full display—and if I wouldn’t have been so delirious with a recent orgasm, I would’ve told Mike to fuck off.

Big Mike didn’t say a word, but he did extend his hand toward the bed, offering her the phone. He wasn’t close enough to her for her to grab it, though, so she had to glance back at Viper and say, “Would you?”

Viper pulled out of Lola’s cunt, quickly giving his brother his back and hiding his erect dick.

I watched Lola slink off the bed, swaying her hips a little too much as she walked over to Big Mike. Her fingers were sluggish in plucking the phone from his grip—on purpose, probably. All this to drive me nuts, I think, based on our earlier conversation.

“Thank you, Mike,” she purred out his name like a sex kitten in heat. She glanced at the caller ID, about to answer it, but then she giggled. “Oops, got some cum dripping down my thigh. You know how it is.” She gave Mike a playful shove and another giggle before answering the phone, giving Mike her back.

Okay, by then, I was outright glowering at them both. Lola thought it was so funny, huh? Bet she wouldn’t think it was funny if I was the one parading around naked in front of a girl who wanted to fuck me.

Oh, it was obvious Mike wanted to fuck her. Seeing her naked had started to bring his cock to life. That’s the thing about athletic shorts; they showed everything. Any hint of arousal was instantly pressed against the fabric for all of the world to see.

Lola’s expression changed when she answered the phone. Not because of my glare, but because of whoever was on the other line. Based on the way her mouth thinned and her eyes narrowed, I’d say it wasn’t my brother. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Either the person on the other line was chatty, or…

Or I didn’t know.

I sat up, leaning forward. I smacked Viper’s arm to alert him that something was going on, and he glanced over his shoulder at Lola.

Her voice came out quiet, “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll be there soon.” She hung up, wandering to the nightstand, where she set down her phone. She had all three pairs of male eyes in the room on her, and yet she didn’t care. I think, after hearing her speak, fucking was the last thing on our minds, after everything that’d been going on in this city after dark.

I decided to take the bait and ask, “Who was it?”

“Newton,” she said, glancing at me. “We have to go to the Gilded Rose, right now.” That was all she said, and as we all scurried to get dressed and fix ourselves so we were fit to be in public, I couldn’t help but have a sinking feeling in my gut—and this wasn’t about Mike getting an eyeful of Lola’s body.

Whatever it was, I figured it couldn’t be good.

And I was right.

Chapter Three – Lola

Any time I could actually use Harvey, he wasn’t around. But, all things considered, it was probably good he wasn’t, because I didn’t think my guys would appreciate me leaving them in the dust while I went to take a look myself.

No, they had to come with me. They had to see it all for themselves, too. Even Big Mike.

The drive to the Gilded Rose felt longer than usual, but maybe that was just my nerves coming into play. You’d think, after all those years of being on my own, doing whatever the fuck I wanted, hoping, fucking praying I’d get caught and put to death to end this misery of mine, I wouldn’t be so susceptible to anxiety.

But I was. I was, so much in fact, that I felt like throwing up. So anxious I was physically queasy during the drive.

It wasn’t me. I didn’t care about me. I didn’t care much about fifty percent of the population, either. It was the ones who couldn’t protect themselves that made me feel like a protective mama lion, failing at keeping her cubs safe.

I know, I know. That was dumb. You didn’t have to tell me that. I never said I was logical. I just killed, fucked, and wanted the sweet release of death. It’s only because I’d killed the wrong guy that now I had something else to live for, a group of guys I didn’t actually want to kill.

Yeah, who knew the Night Slayer would find her soulmates in the midst of a mafia war and somehow rise to the top?

Still, it didn’t feel like I’d done much of anything. How could I claim to have risen when I couldn’t even keep the damned streets safe? How could I claim to be this city’s Bloody Queen when I couldn’t find this damned serial killer? When you find answers to those questions, please hit me up, thanks.

Viper was driving. Big Mike sat in the front seat, Maddox in the back with me. We sped through the streets, and still, it felt like we were crawling. It was at a red light when he asked, “Did Newton say anything? Do we know what to expect?”

I shook my head. I was pretty sure I could feel his eyes on me in the rearview mirror, but I didn’t look. I simply stared out of the window like the world outside could change due to the sheer force of my will. “No. Just that there’s a body.”

“I tried Sylvester, but he must still be in that stupid meeting with the wannabe mayor,” Maddox grumbled out. “He’s not going to be happy when he hears of this.” He ran a hand over his face, looking glum; I could see his reflection in the window glass.

Sylvester wasn’t the only one. I wasn’t happy, either, and I’d bet anything Newton wasn’t thrilled at this new development.

“I just don’t get it,” Viper went on. “All this time, and he hasn’t made a move. Why now? Why today?”

“Good question,” I said. It was. Why now? What made today so different? After leaving us with such a gruesome discovery in the warehouse, what made him go underground for two weeks? He’d sent me a fucking head, let’s not forget, along with a tape that I’d played to myself more times than I cared to admit. He’d gone to ground… until now, and I feared that meant more girls would lose their lives to this sick fuck before this thing was over.

Viper pulled us up to the Gilded Rose’s front, parking the car on the sidewalk, before one of the guards from the Gilded Rose came out and told him where to park. He told us to get out and he’d meet us inside.

I greeted the big, bald dude with thick, black glasses. “Where’s Newton?” I’d changed into tight jeans and a pink blouse, and yet when the wind blew, I couldn’t help but fight a shiver. Next time I came out, I might actually have to put on a jacket or something. The weather was changing, a new season coming. If it was an omen, it wasn’t a good one.

The man gestured for us to follow him inside, and so we did. The front of the gentleman’s club had been blacked out, something spray-painted over the glass to stop anyone who happened to be walking by from seeing inside. That was new. We passed two more guards, who each gave us nods as we headed inside.

I was the first in, walking in front of my guys, and almost immediately, I could smell it in the air. The air itself was heavier… wrong. Just like the air had been in that warehouse that night, only instead of something rotting, it was stagnant and filled with copper, the scent of spilled blood. And I knew better than most what freshly spilled blood smelled like.

I found Newton at the bar. It looked like he was in the process of downing an entire bottle of whiskey himself—though he was still Newton, so he had his own sparkling glass. The guys kept walking toward the stage, where the body was, but I wanted to speak to Newton, first.

Newton was in his forties. Early forties, if I had to guess. He always looked good, given his age, but today he looked tired and stressed, for obvious reasons. His blond hair was a little unkempt, his tie having been loosened. When his dark eyes spotted me, he downed the rest of what was in the glass and then poured himself more.

“Who is she?” I asked. “Is she one of your girls?” I hoped she wasn’t. I hoped it wasn’t that girl, Sera, who Newton seemed to like a little bit too much.

Newton shook his head once. He took another drink, though he did pass me the bottle of whiskey. “No, she’s not one of mine,” he took his time in replying, and the relief in his voice would’ve been missed, if I wasn’t so busy scrutinizing him.

My fingers curled around the bottle of whiskey, and before I could think better of it, I brought it to my lips. Tilting my head back, I took a swig. This particular brand was a bit caramel-y. Not too bad, although it still made me wrinkle my nose.

“Well, that’s a relief, I guess,” I muttered, peering around Newton to watch Maddox, Viper, and Mike inspect the stage. I could see a body laying down near the front of the stage, but nothing else. There were other guys, more of Newton’s men, standing off to the side and watching them as well.

“Is it?” Newton asked me, causing me to bring my gaze back to him. His hand tightened around the glass so hard his knuckles turned white. It was a miracle he didn’t shatter the glass with that grip. “Because from where I’m standing, none of this is a relief.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. “Walk me through what happened.”

“I got a call a while back. I’m never here when the crew is getting everything ready for our open nights, so I wasn’t here when they found her—”

“Who found her?”

“Eric, I think his name is. One of the bartenders.”

“And this Eric, he’s got a key to the place? I’m assuming he’s still here, somewhere.” I looked around, not seeing him. If he was a regular worker here, I’d probably seen his face before.

Newton nodded. “He’s in my office right now, under guard. I figured you’d want to talk to him before I let him go.” He took a sip from his glass, shaking his head once. “He’s got a key, yes, but I trust him. I don’t think he was the one who did this.”

“All right, well, you’ve got security cameras. I swear, if you tell me they were cut or something—” Whatever else I was going to say died in the back of my throat when I noted his glower. Ah, so it was like that, then. No camera footage of the killer. Of course. We couldn’t be that lucky.

“They had something that fucked with the cameras. I don’t know what. The cameras all cut out at exactly five in the morning. Eric didn’t get here until eleven. I got here around noon, and since then I can’t seem to get the damned cameras to come back on. Whatever it was, the system’s fried. I’m going to have to replace them all.” He sounded more broken up about that than the body—and that pissed me off.

“What took you so long to get here?” I asked. “Seems to me, if a body was found at my club, I’d want to get there ASAP. But an hour… that’s a long time, Newton. What were you doing before?”

“That’s none of your fucking business,” he snapped. “You should be lucky I even called you.” He pointed to the stage, at the body. “This whole fucking thing… it’s all on you, Lola. That body is here because of your stupid little investigation, mark my words. I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this if I turned you and your investigation away.” Each and every word he spoke was laced with venom, thrown at me like knives, but I didn’t flinch.

I wasn’t afraid of Newton or his temper. I didn’t give a shit about his empire or how this would affect his business. If someone else came into the city, tried to take me down, and it looked like they were going to succeed, Newton would jump ship without hesitation. He always wanted to be allied with the victor, and someone like that you could never truly trust.

“And I’m just saying,” I spat back, “it’s awfully convenient your cameras all happened to cut out. This serial killer didn’t strike me as the kind of criminal who knows how to do something like that.” No, he was an outright brute, if the bodies I’d seen so far meant anything, and brutes tended to be the opposite of tech guys.

Newton knew exactly what I meant by that, for he slammed his glass down and pointed toward the stage, to the body. “You think, what? That I did this? That I would sabotage my best night of the week by leaving a body here, all for you? Come now, I hope you don’t think I’m that recklessly stupid.”

Hmm. That much was true. He wasn’t stupid, and he loved money so much I didn’t think he’d sacrifice a dollar. It added up, after all.

Newton took a step towards me, and it was then I realized how tall he was—six feet, easily. I think I only realized it because I wasn’t wearing heels, like I always did when I strolled into this gentleman’s club. His expression darkened, the look on his face one of pure rancor.

“If I were to kill someone,” he whispered darkly, “I wouldn’t leave their body as a display. If I killed someone, Lola, you’d be the last person I’d want knowing.”

Right. Because here, secrets were power. Let’s not forget that.

I still didn’t quite think it all added up, but I noticed my guys had wandered away from the stage, coming toward us. Newton stood less than a foot in front of me, glowering, frowning, generally being a fucking sourpuss because I acted like he was suspicious—because he was.

But I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me. I’d faced down far worse than Newton. I’d fucking sung in this goddamned club like some throwback to a twenties call girl. I’d faced down my incest-loving brother and rid the world of him for good. What I did to Aiden would be a playbook as to what I’d do once I had this serial killer in my hands.

“I’m going upstairs to talk to Eric,” I told Newton. “Feel free to continue being a little bitch while I’m gone.” I spun on my feet and walked away from him, greeting the slightly confused expressions of Viper, Maddox, and Big Mike. All of them could tell that exchange between Newton and I hadn’t been a friendly one.

Either Newton was hiding something, or he was my guy, doing this to throw me off the trail, to see my reaction to a body first-hand.

Or he was just an asshole. That could be it, too. Men in this city seemed to be more asshole-y than not.

Maddox and Viper hung on either side of me as I walked toward the stage. I went toward the stairs in the back of the stage, and once I got on its flat, raised platform, I could see the body much better. Mike hung back, near the round tables situated just before the front end of the stage, his arms folded over his chest.

“What was that about?” Viper asked in a hushed whisper, but all I did was shake my head, silently shushing him. I’d tell him about Newton and mine’s little talk once we were out of here. Doing so while we were still here, well… let’s just say I still didn’t know what Newton’s deal was, and I didn’t want him to know that.

I walked toward the body, stopping when I stood beside her. Her clothes were gone, her body naked and bruised, just like the others. Her eyes were open, her head tilted to the side. She stared at me with vacant, dilated eyes, a blood vessel in the left one popped and red. Her blond hair was stained in blood, the bruises on her body plentiful. Her neck was almost severed, just like the others, blood having pooled around her displayed corpse.

And her face… it was just like Tina’s face. Her teeth were visible, everything under her nose cut off. Her cheeks, her lips, even the skin on her chin gone. A garish skeletal appearance that would give any normal person nightmares for the rest of their life.

“This one’s different,” I whispered as I knelt beside her, careful to not get in the blood.

“How?” Maddox asked. “Besides the face, I mean. They aren’t all like that—”

He was right, but that wasn’t what I was referring to. “Look at the blood around the cuts on her face.” It still looked wet, sparkling in the bright overhead light; even if there wouldn’t have been a body here, the Gilded Rose certainly would still look different with the lights on.

Tina’s face didn’t have blood around her skull-like lower half. This one did, and even though I wasn’t a forensics expert, I had the feeling I knew exactly why that was, and when you took in the rest of the scene, it added up and pointed to the same conclusion.

“She was still alive when he cut into her face,” I said, unable to imagine what terror this girl surely felt in her last moments. “Just like she was still alive when he brought her here.” I stood, unable to drag my eyes off her corpse. “I bet he did everything right here. All the others were killed somewhere else and then dumped like trash.”

“Why would he do that? Why risk having someone come here and see him?” Viper asked. “What if Newton would’ve had workers here?”

“It was a worker who found the body,” I whispered, glancing over my shoulder at Newton, who, I saw, had refilled his glass with more alcohol. The man seemed to be able to pound it back pretty easily. “Only a few people would know when no one’s in the Gilded Rose.”

Finally, Maddox and Viper understood what I was getting at, and they both glanced at Newton, too. Thankfully, the man had his back turned to us, so he didn’t see us watching him.

“Come on,” I said. “The worker who found her is upstairs. I want to have a little chat with him before we go.” I pulled myself away from the body—but not before giving her one last look. Her mangled face, her bruised corpse… I couldn’t stop him from killing again.

This wasn’t a game of cat and mouse. This was a game of cat and cat, except one cat was running around, trying to catch the other, blind. I’d give you one guess as to which one I was in that analogy.

I walked away from the corpse, heading off the stage and making a beeline straight to the door that led to the stairwell in the back. I pushed through the employees-only door, heading up the metal staircase. Viper and Maddox came up with me, while Big Mike remained downstairs, which was probably a good idea. Watch the fuckers down there in case they did or said anything while we were up in the private office talking to Eric.

A guard stood near the door to Newton’s office, but I paid him no attention as I walked right on by. He didn’t stop us; Newton probably told him I’d be coming. I pushed inside the office, my lips curling into a frown when I gazed upon the familiar place.

I never did like coming here, not after everything that had happened. It wasn’t that I couldn’t face down the past, it’s more like I just wanted to move on, you know? Not so much forgive and forget, but just… just move the fuck on. In my book, there was no forgiveness and there was certainly no forgetting.

Eric sat in a lonely chair facing Newton’s desk, but when he heard us walk in, he leaned over the side of the chair and turned his head to look at us. “Oh,” he said. “It’s you.” His face was vaguely familiar; he was someone I’d grabbed and told him that I needed to talk to Newton before, back when this serial killer was still new. A younger guy, in his early twenties, I’d say. Around my age.

“Eric,” I purred out his name, sauntering over to the desk. I moved between him and the desk, leaning my ass on the edge. “How are you doing today, hmm? Other than finding a body when you came to work.”

Viper wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling glass on the side of the room overlooking the rest of the club, while Maddox came to stand beside me.

“Uh, I’m okay… I guess.” He swallowed, looking mighty uncomfortable, almost like he was scared of me. Well, if he knew who I was, he definitely should be. He shifted his weight in the chair, so pallid it looked like he wanted to vomit.

Been there, buddy.

“So, I heard you were the one who found the body. Care to tell me exactly what happened this morning?” I gave him a smile even though it was fake. Now was definitely not the time for smiles, but coming from a beautiful gal, even a fake smile put men at ease. Men really were so easy to play.

“Yeah, uh.” Eric rubbed the side of his face. “I was coming in to take inventory, see if we have to order anything. I also make sure the cleaning crew did their job. You know, get everything ready for tonight.”

“Do you do that each shift?”

“Inventory’s once a week, but everything else? Yeah. The only thing I don’t deal with is the money—that’s always Newton.” Eric’s gaze fell to his lap, and he fiddled with his hands uncomfortably. “But this morning… when I walked in, I knew something was different. I could smell it. Piss and blood.”

I nodded. He didn’t have to explain that to me—though, personally, the scent of blood was what caught my nostrils, not so much the piss.

“I saw the body on the stage and I called Newton right away,” Eric finished.

“You were alone in the club? No one else was around?” When he shook his head, I asked, “You didn’t see anyone else? Nothing at all was out of place beside the body?” Although, after seeing a corpse like that, I couldn’t exactly blame the guy for not noticing much else.

Eric said, “No. There was nothing else. I mean, I didn’t even realize the cameras weren’t on until Newton came in and discovered it himself.” He seemed to think on something. “And I came in through the back entrance, so I didn’t see the glass in the front.”

“But nothing was broken,” I said.

“I don’t think so. I don’t know how anyone would’ve gotten in. It isn’t like Newton invests in cheap locks. If someone can get in, that means they could steal from him—and that’s like, the biggest mistake you could make when it comes to him.”

Maddox asked, “Speaking from experience?”

“No,” Eric quickly said. “But I’ve heard stories.”

I looked around the room. Newton kept a clean office, but you never knew. I pushed away from the desk, kneeling before Eric. My voice came out in a bare whisper when I asked, “How did your boss react when you told him about the body?”

Eric couldn’t look away from me. “He… he seemed annoyed, mainly.”

Yes, annoyance was Newton’s baseline emotion, I think. “He didn’t seem surprised?” All Eric could do to that was shake his head. “You haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary these past two weeks? Nothing that would point me in the direction of the man who did this?”

“No,” he spoke. “I don’t know who could’ve done this. That girl, whoever she was…” He got quiet, and he turned his face away, shutting his eyes for a moment. “I don’t know her, but I do feel sorry for her. There’s a lot of bad ways to go in this city, but that’s got to be one of the worst.” He wasn’t wrong about that.

I stood up. “Thank you for talking with me. Just two more questions before I get out of your hair. Who knows when the Gilded Rose doesn’t have anyone inside it?”

He thought on it. “Uh, me, I guess. Me, a few of the guards, and Newton.”

“And who has a key?”

“Same people. Me, the guards, and Newton.”

I flashed him a smile. “I lied. One more question. Would you peg any of the other men who work here as the kind of man who could do that to a girl? Is anyone smart enough to fry an entire camera system, bring a kidnapped girl here, and leave her for you to find?”

I watched Eric’s reaction to those questions, saw the wheels turning in his head, and I had the feeling I knew the answer before he did, and yet I still wanted to hear him say it.

“I don’t think any of the guards would do that to someone… not unless they were told to, and they only listen to orders from—” Eric stopped himself from saying his boss’s name, his eyes widening somewhat as he finally came to the same suspicion I had.

Eric himself was a thin dude. Not overly tall like Newton and not muscular like the guards. Out of everyone here, I suspected him the least. Now, did I think Newton would have his men kill for him? Yeah, every man in power with acolytes did. The Lucianos had Roman and Carter when the situation called for assassins, and the DeLucas had a mini-army at their disposal. Anyone in power had minions who would do anything to impress them.

His voice lowered to a whisper as he asked, “You’re not saying—”

“I think that’s all I need from you today, Eric. Thank you for talking with me. Do you have your phone on you?”

“Yes, why?”

“Get it out,” I instructed him, and he did as he was told. I took the phone from his hands and unlocked the screen by turning it toward his face. I then went to add my number to his contacts. “If you see or hear anything else, if you happen to remember any other details from this morning, call me first. I want to find this guy and put him in the ground—and let’s just say I remember who my friends are.” I handed him back his phone.

If Eric was pale before, he was even paler now. He slid his phone back into his pocket, unable to say anything else to me. He simply watched as I left the office, with Maddox and Viper in tow.

We emerged from the stairwell, walking out into the ground floor of the club, meeting Mike, who stood near the stage, near one of Newton’s guards. I told them to go ahead to the car, that I’d catch up shortly. I wanted to have one last word with Newton without my guys hovering.

I loved them, I did, but sometimes missions were meant to be solo.

I strolled over to Newton, and he didn’t look at me, too busy staring down into his drink to do much of anything else. “I assume your chat with Eric was to your liking?” Newton asked in such a low whisper, I could hardly hear it.

“It was,” I said. “He told me everything I needed to know. He seems like a good guy, that one. Those are rare to find in this city.”

All he did was shrug. “He’s good with clients. I don’t pay him to be a good guy.”

“Do your men need any help with the body?” I figured I’d be polite, so as to not end this visit on a sour note, but judging by Newton’s rigid shoulders, he still wasn’t happy. Well, that made two of us.

“No,” he growled out. “We are perfectly fine dealing with bodies on our own… even if it is your fault.” He sounded so furious with me, so angry, and yet his expression was simply one of—you guessed it—annoyance. Newton was a complicated man, and because of that, I didn’t trust him.

“All I want is to find this serial killer and give him a taste of my own steel,” I whispered, stepping closer to him. Just because he was taller than me didn’t mean he was the only one who could be intimidating. Even without my mask, I had a way about me, I’d been told. “The last thing I wanted to do was turn the killer’s eye to you and your establishment… but I came here for a reason last time. This club isn’t far from where the first body was found. I think, Newton, the killer is close to your club. I’ll be watching it closely from now on.” Foreboding, a warning, one he better heed.

Newton didn’t say anything else to me, but his glare hardened as he stared down at me. I gave him a smile and blew him a kiss, and then I walked right out of that club with renewed agency. My purpose was once again clear: find the killer before he kills again.

I got in the backseat of the car and said to Maddox, “Let’s go back to your place. I want to be there when Sylvester gets back. We need to figure out a plan.”

As Viper drove us to the Luciano estate, Maddox said, “What did we even find out? All we know for sure is that the killer killed her there.” His hands flexed to fists on his knees. The man was getting antsy like me, wanting to put a rest to this hunting game for good.

“We know she was brought there and killed there. We know he supposedly took out the cameras—”

“He did,” Mike interrupted. “When you all were up there talking to whoever, I asked to see the security office. The footage cuts out from every angle at the same time. They tried to reboot the entire system and it still didn’t do anything. None of the cameras are working right anymore.” I think that was the most words he’d ever strung together, at least in my presence.

I leaned forward, jostling the big guy’s shoulder. “Look at you, good sir.” He shook me off, which made me giggle. As I leaned back, meeting a glare from Maddox—still jealous, apparently—I went on, “She was brought there, the cameras were all out, and whoever it was knew it would be empty. They didn’t break in, which means they must’ve gotten their hands on a key—and if a key goes missing, I can’t imagine Newton isn’t smart enough to change the locks.”

“How was Newton?” Viper asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “I don’t know him well, but he seemed off today.”

“Finding a scene like that in a place you own will fucking do that to you,” Maddox pointed out, and he wasn’t wrong. Even if Newton was innocent, which I didn’t know whether or not he was yet, he had every right to be pissed at me for bringing the spotlight onto him and his club.

But the spotlight had already been there.

“He was drinking a lot,” I said. “Out of all of the times I’ve seen him, I’ve never seen him down that much alcohol in one sitting. He was stressed, or…” I paused, the possibility too big to ignore. “Or he was putting on a show for us. I asked him some hard questions, and he got pissed, told me if he killed someone, he wouldn’t put them on display, that I was the last person he’d want knowing his dirty secrets.”

“I can see that,” Viper said.

“But what if it wasn’t Newton himself who did it? What if it’s one of his people? They’re loyal to him, just like Roman and Carter are loyal to you guys. What if he had them do it, knowing I’d be suspicious but also knowing I knew he was smart enough not to incriminate his business with a body?”

Maddox stared at me, his dark gaze nearly black in the shadows of the car, even though it was early afternoon. “You think Newton could’ve set this all up? Why? Why would he do that?”

“Because he can,” I pointed out. “Because he’s got the perfect defense! He didn’t get where he is today by being a stupid businessman. He’s smart with money. Everyone who knows him knows that. He’d never jeopardize any of his businesses by leaving evidence that it was him—and that’s the perfect defense.”

Beside me, Maddox shook his head. “I don’t know if I buy that theory.”

“I can see it,” Viper spoke. “But I don’t think it’s because he can. I think it’s the same reason why our killer is going after girls and doing what he’s doing to them.”

“Power,” I muttered. If there was one man in this city more power-hungry than anyone else, it was Newton. Hell, I was surprised he wasn’t running for mayor—but maybe he was holding off a few years, waiting to get his ducks all lined up, before throwing in his candidacy. You know, making sure he had enough blackmail to get everyone’s support.

“I still don’t see it,” Maddox said.

Grinding my teeth, I looked at the back of Big Mike’s head. His longer hair was pulled back in a low pony, like it usually was. I leaned forward, pushing my head into the middle of the front half of the car, staring at him. “What do you think, big guy? Do you think it’s Newton and his goons?”

“I think we need to see what Sylvester thinks” was his answer.

Way to not take a side, dude.

Sighing, I leaned back and pursed my lips. The car ride grew quiet, and I’d bet anything I got each of them wondering if it was indeed Newton. If, all this time, the guy we’d been searching for was right in front of our faces. Wouldn’t that just be the kicker? I’d pull my fucking hair out if it was, because I could’ve ended this a long time ago.

The killer knew how we worked, knew our turfs. He knew what warehouse we used, knew to leave the bodies where, nine times out of ten, we could get to them first, before the police. He knew the inner workings of the Luciano family and he knew I was the Night Slayer.

Newton had connections aplenty; his businesses were booming. He had taken advantage of the chaos that had ensued during the slaughter of the remaining DeLucas. He knew more things about me than most did. Perhaps he didn’t like seeing me rise from a singer to the queen of an inherited criminal empire. Maybe he was jealous it wasn’t something he could do himself, and that’s why he wanted to take me down—and make me miserable the whole way down.

It made sense, if it was Newton. I wasn’t certain it was him, but it would make sense. A killer who knew me, someone who wanted to play games with me and watch me suffer. Newton was a businessman; he was good at telling people things they wanted to hear, feeding them lies, and charming when he needed to be.

It definitely could be Newton.

Or it could be someone close to him, someone who could snoop and eavesdrop on everything Newton did, learning everything he knew. It could be one of those big guards, or it could be one of the guards simply doing whatever Newton told him to.

God. All these possibilities… I hated not knowing the answer. One way or another, the truth would come out, and I had the feeling it was going to get bloodier before it wrapped up.

Viper drove to the Luciano mansion, and we went in to find Sylvester was already back. He was in the kitchen, making himself a coffee—something very unlike him, given the time it was. Early afternoon; the man never drank coffee after twelve. That meeting must’ve gone on longer than he thought it would.

Or it’d been more miserable.

He watched us walk around the corner, setting his mug down. “I was just about to return your text. What’s this about the Gilded Rose?” His blue eyes were on me, but they did flick to Maddox, who, I assumed, was the one who texted him in the first place. It sure wasn’t me.

As I stepped forward, I watched him loosen his tie, a dark red color. The color of the devil himself. “First, tell us about your meeting. You were gone a long time.”

“I met with Vance Hawkins. He’s got big plans, as many men do. He wants to be mayor, and he knows if he has any hope of winning, he needs to get on my good side.” Sylvester had never really explained this before to me, mostly because I’d never asked. Didn’t really care to. “He can do a lot for us, and we can do a lot for him, if we want him to win—but none of that matters right now. Tell me what happened, Lola.”

“The… I got a call from Newton earlier, so we went over to the Gilded Rose. One of the workers found a body when he came in this morning,” I said. “All of the cameras conveniently cut out before they see anything, but we know the killer didn’t break in. And the body…” I let out a slow sigh. “She was killed there. He cut her face this time before she died.”

“There was a lot of blood,” Viper said. “A lot. It’s not going to be a quick clean-up for Newton’s men.”

Sylvester’s blond brows creased as he listened to us. “Did you talk to the employee who found the body?”

“I did,” I told him. “And I don’t think he’s the one who did it. My gut’s pointing me in a different direction.” I looked between him and his brother, then at Viper and Mike. “We need to put a man on the Gilded Rose, and I want someone tailing Newton at all times.”

Sylvester’s back straightened. “You think it could be Newton? Really?”

“We know whoever it is knows how we work. He knows I’m the Night Slayer. Newton knows all of that. He’s as power-hungry as anyone else in this city.” Honestly, we probably should’ve been watching him closely this whole time.

“Why would he leave a body in the Gilded Rose?” Sylvester asked.

“Because he knows he’s got the perfect defense against suspicion—it’s the last thing anyone would think, if they knew the kind of person he is. Because he wanted to see my reaction first-hand when I saw the body. Because everyone knows a killer wouldn’t leave a corpse in a place that links them to it—but a smart killer would also know that. Newton’s not above playing dirty to get what he wants.”

“So what would be his reason for killing these girls, then? Why taunt you? Why not just kill you?” Sylvester threw out question after question, not giving me time to answer any of them before saying the next. “Newton’s the kind of guy who gets shit done when shit needs to be done, not someone who beats around the bush.”

I shrugged. “He could be angry that I rose up so quickly. He obviously has a thing for power. He knows I was played by Tony and Bianca, and he knows I took her out not long afterward. He saw that I inherited her fortune, her fucking house, the entire DeLuca name. Tell me that’s not reason enough for him to get so pissed he starts a murder spree.”

He let out a sigh and ran his hand down the side of his face. “I’m not saying I think you’re wrong. I just don’t know if it’s him. If he wanted you dead, I think he’d have his men bring you to him, and he’d kill you without fanfare and games.” He shoved a finger to the counter, beside his coffee cup. “That’s what this is to the killer, Lola: a game. This is all a game, and Newton isn’t the type to play games.”

“I didn’t think so, either, but the more I think about it, the more I start to wonder,” I admitted. “And I’m not saying we stop looking for the killer and put all our eggs into Newton’s basket, but I want him watched at all hours of the day and night. I don’t want him taking a piss without knowing about it.”

Sylvester glanced at the guys, and it was like they had a wordless conversation. “I’ll put Roman and Carter on him. They’ll take eight-hour shifts.”

“Good,” I said, before realizing that eight plus eight was not twenty-four. I blinked. “What about the other eight hours of the day?”

“I think we give those eight hours to someone who can’t seem to leave you alone. Kill two birds with one stone,” Sylvester muttered, frowning. “Harvey will take the other eight. At least it’ll get him out of our hair.”

I had no problem with the guy in my hair. Sheesh. Sylvester really didn’t like Harvey, did he? “So, what I’m hearing is, you’re bugged that Harvey hangs around all the time, so bugged that you’d be willing to throw him at a possible killer. You don’t even know how his stalking skills are. What if he’s bad at it? I don’t want Newton knowing.” I wasn’t worried about Roman and Carter; those two could definitely take care of themselves.

But Harvey?

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Sylvester said, not sounding too sure.

“You trust him enough to send him after Newton?” Maddox asked. “Personally, I don’t trust the asshole as far as I can throw him—” He paused, glancing around the room. “—which might be farther than some of you could, but that don’t mean shit.”

“I think how he does will tell us whether or not he’s fit to continue working for Lola,” Sylvester said, glancing at me. “I trust him about as much as I trust Newton, which is to say, not much at all. I think something’s fishy with Newton, yes, but I don’t want to blind ourselves to the possibility that the killer could be someone else.”

Yes, that went along with my eggs in a basket comment. We were all on the same page, pretty much. We knew the killer was still out there, taunting me, wanting me to know he was still killing.

“Can Jimmy get us a list of missing persons?” I asked. “Maybe if we try to match a name to the body, we’ll be able to figure out where he took her. We’ve had eyes on the clubs the last two weeks, and we haven’t seen anything. He had to have grabbed her somewhere else.”

“Good idea. I’ll give him a call and ask for a list,” Sylvester said, grabbing his phone. “I’ll get him to narrow down the pool of missing persons to females between… what? Eighteen and twenty-five?”

“Do fifteen and thirty,” I said. Some of those girls, though dead, had makeup on. Makeup was a fancy little tool young girls used to look older, and older gals used to look younger. Magical indeed.

Sylvester nodded and walked away, presumably to call Jimmy, our cop buddy, and also Roman and Carter. I got out my phone and texted Harvey, telling him to expect some new work. I wasn’t going to break the news to him. I’d leave that not-so-fun job for my lover.

Even though we weren’t closer to finding the killer, I still felt better knowing we had a plan. It was more than we had yesterday, although it’d come at a cost.

The image of the poor girl’s face was burned in my mind. Just like Tina’s skeletal severed head, only today’s was fresher and bloodier. Today’s body might not be on any missing persons list, but we had to try. Maybe he’d grabbed them from across the river, in the neighboring city. It’s where he’d grabbed Tina after I’d taken her home from the club.

I wasn’t a praying sort. After everything I’d gone through, I didn’t believe in gods. I didn’t believe in society or the men in charge. The only person I believed in was myself, because I was the only one who could truly take back my life and what was stolen from me.

And even if I couldn’t, knowing sooner or later I’d sink a knife into this serial killer’s skull made me dance in anticipation. What a bloody fun day that would be. I just hoped it came sooner rather than later.

Chapter Four – Sylvester

Jimmy was getting me that list. He said it might take some time. Apparently missing persons were quite plentiful here, go figure, and if I wanted him to go beyond what was reported in-city to the rest of the state, he’d need to pull some favors so no questions were asked. I was fine with that; I told him I’d pay him well for his service. Dirty cops could always be bribed.

I called Roman next, gave him the update on where we were and what I wanted him and Carter to do. I told them the hours I wanted them to take, who they’d be following. I stressed that they had to watch in secret; secrecy was our best weapon when it came to Newton. If he found out he was being tailed… I could only imagine what he’d do. He wouldn’t be happy, obviously.

Roman didn’t question me. He knew better than to do that. The man was loyal to the Luciano name; now that my father was out of the picture for good, he was my man, as was Carter. As were a lot of contacts in the city.

And yet all those contacts, all those people loyal to the Luciano name meant nothing right now, because we couldn’t find this damned serial killer.

The last person I called was Harvey. I got his number from Lola’s phone, and then I stepped outside the house, telling him to get his ass over here. That I wanted to talk to him. He didn’t act too surprised, and I took that to mean Lola had warned him that I’d be having a chat with him soon.

Lola and her fascination with Harvey. I didn’t get it. I just didn’t get it, and I never would. The guy was weird, awkward, and he had no friends. He claimed it was because he spent all his time waiting around for Bianca to order him about, but was that really the case?

I didn’t know. I didn’t trust him. His whole awkward persona might be nothing more than a facade, a charade he put up while in the company of others. Newton might know our inner workings… but Harvey did, too.

Harvey knew how we worked, because he’d worked for Bianca DeLuca for years. He saw how families like ours worked. He knew where we frequented. He was close to Lola, always finding a way to be around her all the fucking time. He didn’t know when to stop, but maybe that was on purpose. Maybe it was all a lie, and Lola had fallen for it worst of all.

No, I didn’t trust him, and I wanted to see his face when I told him I was putting him on Newton as a tail for eight hours each and every day. If he tried to argue with me, I’d get Lola out of the house and make her repeat exactly what I’d said; he might technically be under her employment, but Lola and I were one.

I stood at the base of the steps, waiting for Harvey to show up. When I saw his car pull up, my shoulders straightened and a frown grew on my lips. He pulled right up to me, slow to get out.

Frankly, Harvey was an unimposing guy. In his early thirties, just under six feet tall. He wasn’t overly muscled. If I had to describe him, I’d call him more lanky than anything else, but maybe that’s just because I didn’t like the guy too much. The wind lapped at his brown hair as he walked up to me. He wore a black suit… with a damned bowtie.

Yeah, a fucking bowtie, like he was eighteen and going to prom.

“Harvey,” I spoke his name, hating the taste of it on my tongue. My dislike of him was natural; it was like I couldn’t help it. Anyone who worked for the DeLucas I didn’t trust of principle, although, I supposed, if the situation was flipped, they wouldn’t trust us, either.

“Sylvester,” he said, stopping when he stood three feet away. “What is it? You sounded, uh, odd on the phone. I didn’t know you had my number—”

“I didn’t before today. I grabbed it from Lola’s phone. She’s inside, by the way,” I added, in case he tried to tell me he wasn’t going to do anything I said. Which he might. You never knew. “But I didn’t bring you here to talk about Lola, as you probably already guessed. You’re here because I need you to do something.”

He didn’t hesitate: “Of course. What is it?”

I narrowed my stare at him, frowning slightly. His eagerness came off as genuine, but I didn’t trust him, and that made it hard to take anything he said or did to heart. “I need you to tail Newton from eight to four every day—and to be clear, that’s eight at night until four in the morning. Do you think you can do that?”

“Lola won’t need me?”

“Like I’ve said many times before, Lola isn’t like Bianca. She has us, whereas Bianca only had you. She won’t need you. And, regardless of that, she’s the one who came up with the idea of tailing Newton.”

He blinked, his gray eyes trained on me. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, yeah, I’ll do it. Of course I’ll do it. For how long?” When I didn’t say anything to him, he answered his own question, “Let me guess: until you say otherwise. That’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Hmm. So eager to stalk someone each and every night. “I hope it won’t get in the way of your dating life,” I referenced the thing Lola was fucking obsessed with lately: Harvey’s relationship with that girl he’d started to date. Giulia, I think her name was? I couldn’t help but think it was all one big ruse at this point, but any time I brought Harvey up to Lola, she shook me off, not wanting to hear it.

She thought the world of the guy, for whatever reason. I didn’t like it.

Harvey chuckled, though I didn’t see what was so amusing. “I’ll be fine, sir. You can count on me.”

“I guess we’ll see about that,” I remarked, meaning it. Seemed odd he’d finally, supposedly, connected with a woman after being alone for so long, and now that I’d given him a job during the peak hours of seeing someone outside of a normal full-time job, he wouldn’t be able to see her as much—and he didn’t act like he cared.

He didn’t go to leave right away. He stood there, staring at me, an awkward air about him. “You don’t like me very much, do you?” A blunt question for a guy who constantly acted like he was never socialized as a child.

I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “What gave you that idea, Harvey?”

Again, he chuckled, but the sound died almost as soon as it surfaced. “Believe it or not, you did. Look, I know I wasn’t one of your men. My father worked for Carl DeLuca even before I was born. I never got to choose sides—but I did that day when I let Lola walk out of that room holding a—” He swallowed, as if he gagged. “—piece of Miss DeLuca’s throat.”

“See, that just sounds like, to me, you chose to jump ship the moment you knew the ship was sinking. Am I supposed to applaud you for that?”

“That’s not what I—that’s not what I’m trying to say at all.” He shook his head slightly, sighing as he turned his head and stared off. “I don’t know what you know about Miss DeLuca, but she wasn’t a good person. She was worse than her father. I couldn’t imagine the city in her hands. Lola… when I first saw her, I thought she was a one-off. I thought my boss would use her and lose her, like she’d done to so many others. I never thought I’d see her walk out of that sitting room with blood on her fingers and a flap of skin in her hands. Seriously—a flap of skin.”

I just barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard the story a million times.” Lola was quite proud of herself, for tearing out Bianca’s throat.

“The others there looked at me for guidance, because I’d been with Miss DeLuca for the longest. Me. I don’t know why they all looked at me, but they did, and even though I was terrified of Lola and that mask when I saw her, I also knew things had to change.” Harvey paused, his gray eyes once again on me. “So I made my decision that day, and I haven’t looked back since.”

It was right then when I could see why Lola had taken a liking to Harvey. He might be awkward and act all flustered most of the time, but beyond that, he wasn’t afraid to say what he thought. An honest fellow… provided it wasn’t some mask he wore when he faced the world.

Me? I still didn’t know what to think of the guy. I’d hold my judgment until this killer was caught and we knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, who it was. If, by some chance, it wasn’t Harvey, then I’d reevaluate my feelings toward the man.

He must’ve taken my silence as doubt, for he added, “I—look, I know it’s going to take time. I know trust doesn’t come easily, especially for people like you. Even toward the end, I don’t think Miss DeLuca trusted me. That’s just how you people are, no offense. But I hope we get there.” Harvey shrugged, his normal awkwardness coming back as he said, “I really don’t see myself working nine to five every day—phew, talk about boring—so please, don’t get rid of me. I will follow whoever you want for the rest of my life, if that’s what it’ll take.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him.

“Ah, okay. Uh, good?” Harvey watched me, as if he waited for me to say something else, but when it was made clear I had nothing else to say to him, he took a step back. “I guess I’ll, uh, go, then? Unless you need me for anything else right now?”

I shook my head. “No, but remember—”

“I’m on guard duty starting tonight,” he said, saluting me. And then he realized his salutation could be taken as him being a little shit, because he quickly muttered, “That wasn’t meant to be disrespectful, sir. I—”

Waving him off, I instructed, “Just go, Harvey. Get out of here before I change my mind.” I watched him go to his car, and right when he opened the driver door, I called out to him: “I want you here at ten each morning with a report of the night before. If you see anything suspicious though, I want you to call me immediately. Me, not Lola.”

Harvey stared at me over the hood of his vehicle, giving me a single nod. Thankfully, he didn’t say another word as he got in. He drove off.

I stood there, watching him go. I didn’t move a muscle until I saw his car pull out onto the road and drive off. A plan was still formulating in my head; I’d need more eyes. Grinding my jaw, I turned and headed back inside the house.

Lola and Maddox were on the couch in the main living space, on top of each other, making out—nothing out of the ordinary there. Those two couldn’t keep their hands off each other, although I couldn’t blame him for that. When it came to Lola, each and every moment was the perfect moment to feel her skin against yours, to hear her moans right in your ear.

“Where are the Milano brothers?” I asked, drawing out the question long enough for Lola to pull her lips off my brother’s and look at me. Maddox, on the other hand, simply glared at me, pissed for interrupting.

Lola’s blue eyes looked around. She was literally on my brother’s lap, all curled up and comfortable. “I thought they were here, but I guess not.”

I turned my back to them, pulling out my phone and starting a group message with them both, telling them each to meet me upstairs, in my father’s office. My office now, I should say. When my father left, it had instantly become mine, and I liked to think, this serial killer business aside, I was doing an okay job keeping everything running. Keeping the dark underbelly of this city fed with blackmail and blood money.

I went straight for the grand staircase, heading up. I ran a hand through my hair, sighing. As many times I replayed the conversation with Harvey in my head, I couldn’t catch anything off about it.

But I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust Harvey. I just couldn’t help it. Maybe it was only because Lola seemed to fawn over him so much that I didn’t like the guy, or maybe it was the darkness inside me, the thing I kept caged in order to be in control, that recognized the possibility that he could be hiding his own darkness.

If Harvey was the killer, Lola would be devastated, but she would have us to get her through it. We’d move on from this, one way or another.

I was the first to make it to my office, and I went straight for the high-backed leather chair sitting behind the mahogany desk. I reclined back in it once I sat down, staring at the ceiling as I waited for Viper and Big Mike to make their way here. I knew they hadn’t left yet; their car was still here, and if I had to guess, Maddox’s car was still at Lola’s place.

I wasn’t alone for long. Within another two minutes, both Viper and Mike walked in, and when I heard them enter, I said, “Close the door.” I lowered my gaze off the ceiling, watching as Mike went to do as I said.

“What’s going on?” Viper asked, moving to stand before the desk.

The room still smelled like my father, even after all this time. His musky cologne. It must’ve seeped into the wood of this desk. I didn’t like it. It might be time to do some redecorating…

As Mike stood beside Viper, I folded my hands over the desk, leaning forward a bit. “I put Harvey on Newton each night, but I don’t trust the guy. I want you two on him, and…” I bent to retrieve something from the bottom drawer of the desk. A small box, no bigger than an inch. “I want to know where he is at all hours of the day.”

Viper took the small box, taking off the lid. Inside, he plucked out the even smaller object. It was tiny, about half the size of his pinky nail. Small enough that it could be hidden anywhere and go undetected, unless someone was looking for it. “What is this?” he asked.

“It’s a tracker,” I said. “I ordered a few of them a while back. I want it in his car, and I want one of you to tail him at all times. Don’t tell Lola, either.” Lola would have a royal freak-out, not only because of the tracker, but also because of the not trusting Harvey bit. She’d accuse me of not believing her, and that was a rabbit hole I didn’t want to go down.

I trusted her. I believed in her, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I believed in her instincts. She might’ve had the worst upbringing ever, she might’ve lived through some God-awful stuff, but that didn’t automatically mean she had a working radar for other bad people. You’d be surprised how good some people were at hiding their true selves.

“You ordered a few?” Viper asked. “Where else have you put these?” He set the tiny thing back in the box, covering it up with the lid. Beside him, his brother said nothing, only staring at me with an unreadable expression.

“That’s none of your concern now, is it?” I asked, taking on a bit of a tone. It was on a need-to-know basis, and right now, these two didn’t need to know where else I’d put them. Let’s just say I would only use them as a last resort, because once I did, the cat would be out of the bag and there would be no more hiding it.

Viper took the box and slid it into his pocket, giving me a nod that told me he wouldn’t ask any more questions on the matter.

“Harvey starts his shift watching Newton at eight tonight.” It was like what Lola had said about Newton: I didn’t want Harvey taking a piss without knowing about it. “If either of you see anything… I want to know.” My voice dropped to a whisper, “It’s no surprise to either of you, I’m sure, but I don’t like Harvey. He’s hiding something. I know it.” I just didn’t know what that something was.

Viper nodded. “If he’s hiding anything, we’ll figure it out. Is that it?” When I gave him the affirmative, he turned and walked out of my office. His brother, though, remained.

Mike stood, a pensive look on his usually calm face. I could never truly tell what the guy was thinking; he was always the quiet one, the one who kept his emotions and his thoughts close to his chest. Even when he’d gotten shot by those DeLuca loyalists… he hadn’t exactly freaked out. The man was an immovable mountain.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

His brown eyebrows creased, and he said nothing right away. Viper had left the door ajar, and maybe that’s why he spoke so quietly when he did finally speak, “Do you really think we’re going to find him?”

“Why? Do you think our plan isn’t good enough?” I didn’t know what else we could do at this point. I had all eyes and ears on the pavement in this city, and our two biggest leads were going to be tailed from now on.

“It’s not that,” he said. “I just… I don’t think it’s Harvey, Sylvester, and I don’t think it’s Newton.” His hazel eyes dropped to the floor. “I think there’s something we’re not seeing. I just don’t know what it is yet.”

“Well, if you realize something we don’t, please share with the class, but until then, let’s continue with the plan we have,” I told him. I watched as he nodded. The man didn’t say another word as he turned and walked out.

Hmm. For Mike to go so far as to say that… it made me wonder. But if it wasn’t Harvey and it wasn’t Newton, who was it? Some nameless gutter rat? Some goon who used to work for Bianca DeLuca that was pissed at Lola for taking her place after killing her?

I sat there, for I didn’t know how long, thinking. I thought about everything, not just this killer we couldn’t find. I thought about how much of a turn my life had taken when Lola had killed her way into our lives. I thought about our father and how he was doing, living in the middle of nowhere after completely abandoning us. I thought about the future of this city, what it would be like if we all just walked away. Pulled all our money and moved, went somewhere where we were an unknown family, where no one knew Lola’s face or her mask.

Would we be happy if we did the same thing my father did, or would we miss this city and its complicated, murderous streets?

I’d grown up here. I’d become an heir to a fortune that should never have been mine. I’d been homeless, a street rat myself, but a man named Richard Luciano had seen something within me, a maturity a child should never have. I think I only had it because I’d been forced to grow up fast. Living on your own tended to do that to you.

Maddox and Mario had become my brothers. I’d been smack dab in between them, age-wise, and yet as we’d grown up, I’d continued to prove my maturity, whereas they hadn’t. Mario had kept fucking up to the point where our father had forced him to work with the cleaners and clean up messes. Maddox had flown under the radar, wanting to keep that frat boy lifestyle. So, in a way, I supposed it was natural for things to have fallen my way, long before Mario was killed by a beautiful blond bombshell.

Before I thought too much about it, I pulled out my phone and unlocked the screen. I went into my contacts and dialed my father’s number. Bringing the phone up to my ear, I waited, listening to it ring and ring.

It wasn’t the first time I’d called him. It probably wouldn’t be the last. Was he okay out there, on his own, or had he let himself spiral? All these years, I’d thought he’d been holding it together, but in reality, it’d been nothing but a lie. A lie he’d told just so my brothers and I could keep going after we lost our mother.

But now I knew he’d never really recovered after her death. He never let himself, and a man who could not find peace would not live a happy life.

The phone kept ringing, and then it went to voicemail. I hung up, not bothering to leave another message for him. Had he changed his number, or was he just avoiding any calls from me? You’d think, even if he wanted to throw everything away and leave it all behind, he’d still find time for his two living sons.

But if you thought that, apparently you’d be wrong.

I got up after a while, heading downstairs to find the guys and Lola on the couches in the living room, watching something on the TV. I suggested we go over to her place, that I’d order us dinner in a bit. Lola jumped at that, saying how she was starving, having not eaten lunch due to the body that was discovered earlier.

We went over to Lola’s house. I took my own car, while everybody else piled into Viper’s. Everybody wanted to be with Lola, though I couldn’t blame them. Once we were situated in her house, we discussed what everybody wanted to eat. Maddox wanted pizza, Lola wanted Chinese, while Viper wanted Italian. Big Mike said he’d eat whatever.

I chose Chinese, to which Maddox huffed under his breath, “Kiss ass.” Of course, he wasn’t wrong. If there was one ass I’d want to kiss, it was Lola’s.

The rest of the day passed by, uneventful. Mike went out once it got darker, closer to eight. He’d start tailing Harvey when Harvey was on Newton’s watch. Lola asked him where he was going, but all he did was grumble out an incoherent response before leaving.

I hoped we wouldn’t have to do this for long. I hoped, one way or another, we’d figure out who our mysterious serial killer was, and then we’d put him in the ground. Or, you know, the river, since that’s where all our bodies went.

Except the recent ones. The recent ones all were packed up and taken to a certain silver-fanged metal worker who had an incinerator of his own. Fang hadn’t been happy to get rid of the bodies for me, but after I explained to him the situation, and that the bodies had also been found on his brother’s turf, he shut up and let me use his services once again.

Later that night, after darkness had fallen, I was getting ready to leave. Maddox had already gone home, his car having been left at her place earlier in the day, while Viper had gone upstairs to shower and go to bed.

It was late. I’d gotten nothing on the Harvey or Newton front, not that I was expecting any news on the first night. I was in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess we’d made from dinner—it was both amazing and annoying how much of a mess you could make, even with takeout.

I finished up, leaving the kitchen spotless, although I figured it’d be dirtied up the next morning by whoever made breakfast. Lola had disappeared. I wanted to go, but before I did, I’d like to see her one last time, kiss her goodbye, all that good stuff, so I headed upstairs in search of her.

Lola was in her room, the door shut. I could tell she was in her room based on the light seeping out into the dark hall. Before going in, I heard mumbling, and I leaned my ear against the door to listen.

“I’m growing bored of you, Night Slayer. Did you like my presents? They were all for you. I didn’t know how long Sylvester would hide me from you, but it was longer than I thought. Congrats to him for lying to you.”

Right when I heard a muffled laugh, I knocked and walked in, and Lola paused the tape, glancing at me with a hard expression on her face. She sat on the edge of her bed, the tape player in her hand, her finger still on the button.

“You shouldn’t be listening to that,” I told her, slow to walk toward her and sit beside her on the bed. “It’ll only drive you mad, Lola.”

She let out a sigh. “I know, but… this is all I have of his.” She shut her eyes and shook her head. “The more I listen to it, the more I feel it in my bones, Sylvester. I’ve heard this voice before… I just can’t remember where.”

Even though I’d heard the tape in its entirety multiple times already, I whispered, “Play it.” I took her hand in mine, and together we listened.

“You can’t save anyone when you’re a killer, Lola. Don’t you know that by now? Everything you touch gets destroyed. Everything you touch dies.” The man on the tape breathed hard before adding, “I hate you. I hate you so much. I fucking hate you and every girl like you. You think you’re better than everyone else, but you’re not, and I’m going to show you that you’re not. This game between us will end soon, but for now, I hope you enjoy the bodies I’ll leave you.”

He breathed so hard it sounded like it was difficult, like he was half-dead already. He sounded like shit, frankly, his voice so rough and scratchy, so low it was almost demonic. I didn’t get the ringing familiarity that Lola did, but whoever it was, it definitely didn’t sound like Newton or Harvey.

Although, it could be another part of the game. Purposefully not sounding like themselves, or maybe someone hired to record the message for them. Who’s to say?

“Know that everything I do to them I’m going to do to you. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be nothing.” Metal scraped against metal, a bone-chilling sound, even through the tape. “None of your men will save you from me. Your days are numbered. Oh, and you should know little Tina screamed so hard she broke her voice box. What a fun day that was. Can’t wait to do that to you.”

The tape ended, and Lola was slow to pull her hand from mine. She got up, taking the player to her nightstand and putting it in the small drawer. With a jerk of her arm, she slammed it shut, hiding it from the world.

She kept it close because she liked to torture herself by listening to it over and over. I knew her too well, and I wished she’d let me take that damned tape and hide it from her. Listening to it wasn’t helping; it would only drive her crazy.

She returned to my side, sitting with a sigh. I decided to ask, “Why do you torture yourself like that?”

Her shoulders went up and down once. “I don’t know. I guess I’m hoping that I’ll hear something I didn’t hear before. Background noise or… something. Anything to point me in the right direction.” She ran a hand through her hair, her blue eyes turning to me, a hesitancy in their depths there usually wasn’t. “You really don’t recognize the voice at all?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m sorry, but I don’t.” Honestly, if you asked me whether I believed Lola recognized the voice herself, I’d say no, too. I think, if you listened to something so many times, if you had such firm beliefs, you’d think they were true no matter what. The guy on the tape could be a stranger, and she wouldn’t want to believe it.

Now, that wasn’t saying I believed our killer was a stranger. No. It was clear he knew how we operated, knew how to avoid the police. He knew how to dump bodies. I think we were correct in assuming he had connections to us, somehow.

“It doesn’t sound like Newton,” Lola said, heaving another sigh.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“You weren’t with him today, Sylvester. He acted…” She paused. “He just didn’t act right, okay? I’ve seen crazy guys, the ones who think they can get away with anything. I’ve killed a lot of them. So proud and so confident in themselves, right up until the end. I don’t trust Newton. There’s something about him I don’t like. He’s a scheming sleazebag who only sides with you if he thinks you’re going to be on top—and I’m pretty sure he’s got a thing for one of his acts.”

I didn’t care too much if Newton had a thing for one of his acts, but as for what she’d said prior to that… “Everyone in this city is scheming, one way or another. That’s a part of living here. The guy I met with? Vance Hawkins? You’d hate him.”

“So then why meet with him? Why back him for mayor?”

“He’s young. Well, younger than our current mayor—and he wasn’t around for the whole DeLuca feud. If we get him in, he’ll owe us.” And in case he tried to turn on us after getting the mayor’s seat, I’d have blackmail ready for him. You never could be too careful. “We could have the mayor truly in our pockets.” You didn’t get better than that when you were a family like ours.

Except getting the governor, or a state senator. But one thing at a time.

Lola stared at me, silence eating away at the room until she spoke again, “So, you don’t think it’s Newton? You think I’m barking up the wrong tree?” She smiled bitterly at that, her mood just as sour as her facial expression hinted.

“I think we need to keep our eyes peeled” was what I said. “It could be. He could’ve hired someone to tape that and send it to you. We both know he’s got many men under his thumb, men who’d do anything he ordered. It could very well be him. Or he could just be a typical power-hungry asshole. I don’t want to cross anyone’s name off the list just yet.”

I kept my suspicions about Harvey to myself, knowing Lola would freak if I even suggested it was Harvey again. She genuinely liked the guy, for whatever fucking reason—and maybe it was my jealousy talking, but I didn’t see it. If Harvey wasn’t hiding anything, and he really was that awkward and inept as a thirty-year-old man…

“You might not see as much of Viper and Big Mike,” I warned her. “I gave them each a job.” Once more, I took Lola’s hand in mine, squeezing it tightly as I brought it up to my mouth and kissed the back of it. “We’re going to find him, I promise you.”

Lola’s other hand went up my back, her fingers toying with the hair on the nape of my neck. She leaned into me, whispering, “Even if you’re just trying to make it up to me for hiding all those girls, I do appreciate you. Not every guy would want to help their girl nab herself a serial killer.”

“Not every guy is dating a serial killer,” I pointed out.

She chuckled softly. “Yeah, you’re right about that.”

The way her lips curled into a soft grin made my mind wander, and I lowered my voice to a bare whisper when I said, “I can think of something else that might get your mind off things.” For a while, at least.

Her look changed, and she gave me an expression that read: show me.

And why shouldn’t we? Why shouldn’t we make time for ourselves during this crazy period in our lives? We could fret all day and all night, go out on the hunt like we’ve been doing, every day for years and never catch this guy. Why should we stop doing what made us feel alive in the first place?

I let go of her hand, taking mine to her neck and curling my fingers around that slender throat. She let out a giggle when I pushed her down to the bed and crawled on top of her. The way she gazed up at me, so comfortable even with my hand tight around her throat, made me warm in more places than one.

“You do look so good when you’re on top of me,” she murmured, licking her lips in anticipation of what was to come.

It was then I noticed something: “You’re not wearing the necklace I got you.” Under my hand, her neck was smooth. No chain, no metal to speak of.

“I took it off when I worked out earlier,” she said. “And then I got a call from Newton, and, well, you know what happened after that.” She didn’t seem particularly bothered to have forgotten my necklace.

My gaze narrowed at her, my hand tightening around that slender throat harder, enough to make her gasp. I leaned down, stopping when my body pinned hers down on the bed, my lips near her ear. “I hope you didn’t lose it.”

“I didn’t,” she said. And I believed her. Lola might be many things, but she was no liar. She was a killer, she was crazy, she was everything the world had molded her to be, but she was no liar. She said what was on her mind, and she never said anything she didn’t mean. “Now, are we going to talk about that necklace of yours more, or are you gonna ride this kitty of mine, Sylvie?”

“I hate it when you call me that,” I growled out, leaning my nose against hers. I really, really did. Sylvie was a girl’s name, and I was not a girl—not by a longshot, given the current situation growing and hardening in my pants. I had a cock all right, and soon enough, it’d be inside that sweet pussy of hers, reminding her just how much of a man I was.

Even with my hand on her throat, she managed to lean up and run her tongue up my lips, licking me before saying, “Maybe you should teach me a lesson then, Sylvie?” She giggled again when I let go of her neck and rolled her onto her stomach under me.

Sylvie. Fucking Sylvie. I didn’t remember when she’d first called me that just to poke and tease, and I didn’t know why she wouldn’t just let it go. It was like she saved that name for the worst possible moments, only deciding to use it when she knew it would irk me the most. Probably her way of getting back at me for daring to try to keep this whole serial killer business to myself.

I tugged down her pants, exposing that supple, round ass. No panties, because my girl was a kinky bitch that usually went without. I think she got a thrill of it—and got off knowing how crazy it made all of us. Knowing she was around other people, not wearing anything underneath… oh, yes, Lola loved making me, my brother, and Viper crazy.

Tossing her pants to the side off the bed, they hit the floor. I then worked on taking off her shirt. Not the easiest thing to do, given she was on her stomach under me, but I managed. With a sharp jerk of my fingers, I loosened my tie enough to yank it off…

And then the neck loop slipped over Lola’s head. I didn’t bother moving her hair to the side, letting its blond lengths tangle in the loop before I yanked the tie back, tightening it around her throat. She gasped and writhed under me in a way that told me she was more than down for that. I pulled on it so much she had to bend her head back.

While I held onto the tie and kept a tight hold of it, my other hand went to my belt, loosening it and yanking it off. By the time I freed my cock, I was hard as steel. Every part of me screamed to push inside that cunt, making her unravel on me while I choked her out my goal.

Lola liked it rough. It was a good thing, because while I may be more gentlemanly than my brother, I also knew there was always a time and a place for some brutality. I’d be rough whenever she wanted me to be, and that included right now.

I yanked on the tie around her throat, leaning down over her as I got into position behind her. My other hand grabbed hold of her waist, pulling up her ass in prime fucking position. “You like that?” I asked in a whisper. “My brother isn’t the only one that can be rough with you, Lola. I can be just as hard.”

I ended my words by letting go of her waist, taking my cock in my hand and rubbing it along her exposed backend. Along the curve of her ass, all the way to the lips of her pussy. When I pressed a little harder there, I found she was ready for me, as she always was.

Without another word, I pushed into her, spearing her with my cock in one fell swoop. A low groan came from me, while Lola inhaled sharply at being filled. My back was straight, my head bent back a little, my arm outstretched to the lower end of the tie I still held onto.

Oh, fuck. She felt so good. So good it was unreal. This hole, and every other hole on her body, was mine right now. I planned on reminding her of that as many times as it took. We were in this together. Her, me, and the others. Whatever life threw at us, whatever that fucking serial killer did, we’d come out the victor… because we had to.

The bed became a rough session of fucking. I reminded Lola just how badly she wanted me, reminded myself just how fucking good she felt. I pulled on the tie harder every now and then, choking the air out of her lungs and making her gasp. Over and over, loosening my hold on it just enough that she wouldn’t pass out. Pain, when mixed with pleasure in the right way, could feel even better than most people could dream of.

I ran my other hand down her back, along her spine, my hips swaying to a rhythm only I knew. Her pussy took each and every thrust of my cock, and each time I filled her core up, Lola cried out, filling the room with her whimpers and her sighs. I slapped her ass so hard the skin turned red shortly after, and if she wore the marks of this fucking long after the fact, then so be it.

Eh, she’d like it, anyway, just like she enjoyed wearing spent cum down her inner thighs—her secret way of keeping herself marked as ours.

“Harder,” Lola begged me, barely able to get out the word.

She didn’t need to ask twice.

My pace picked up, the entire bed rocking, bumping against the wall as it swayed under my movements. I pulled the tie looped around her throat back, choking her harder as I fucked her equally as rough.

With her head bent back, her facial expression was exposed to me, and that’s how I saw the blissful, sensual smile on her lips. That’s how I knew she continued to smile, even as she came. The moment an orgasm ripped through her body, her arms gave out; the only reason she didn’t collapse on the bed was because of the tie around her throat and my solid yank on it. Her entire body shook, her eyes practically rolling back in her head, as she was completely lost to the carnal sensation of a mind-blowing orgasm.

Fuck, she was so hot when she was coming undone. Unbelievably hot. So hot, in fact, I couldn’t help it: I came almost simultaneously as I watched her come. My balls slapped against her body as I jerked my hips against her, burying my cock deep into that sweet pussy. A growl of a groan left me, my nerves wracked with pleasure of the highest degree.

There really was nothing like the feeling you had when you were with your person. I never understood the sentiment, not truly, not until Lola came into our lives in a fit of blood and fury.

Sweat lined my brow, and I released my hold on the tie, letting Lola collapse forward onto the bed. I was loathed to pull out of her, but I did just that, breathing hard as I crawled up to the pillows and flopped around so that I stared at the ceiling. I wore all of my clothes still, my cock out and still very much hard, glistening with Lola’s arousal, but I didn’t care.

Lola rolled into me, the tie still around her neck. Her blond hair was a mess, half of it still tucked into the loop of the tie, but she didn’t seem to mind. Those sapphire eyes were glazed over in spent lust, and she managed to whisper, “Wow. That was… maybe I should call you Sylvie more often—”

I grabbed the tie once more, pulling it taut and choking her a bit. “Keep it up, and I’ll choke you until you pass out.”

“Ooh, promise? But only if you’re fucking me when I come to,” she spoke as her thighs squeezed together, totally unbothered by the tightness around her throat. Based on the twinkle of hunger still residing in her eyes, I could tell she’d like that. Oh, she’d like that a lot.

“I’ll keep a mental note of that,” I told her, moving to kiss her. Her lips tasted of sweet defiance, heat and desire all rolled into one. She hummed into the kiss, and I was slow in letting her go—both her mouth and my hold on the tie.

She worked to loosen it, lifting it up and getting it off, but when I thought she would toss it aside, she did something I wasn’t expecting: she rolled on top of me, straddling me with a mischievous look in her eyes. Her throat was a little red from our activities, but she seemed unbothered. She breathed hard as ever, her tits rising and falling with ragged lungfuls of air. Straddling my midsection, Lola was as sexy as ever.

“Sylvester Luciano,” Lola murmured my name, leaning down and smacking my left cheek with the thicker end of the tie. “Always so put together… except when you’re with me.” She toyed with the tie, staring at me all the while, a smirk on those luscious lips. She didn’t need to say anything else; I knew exactly what she wanted to do.

I choked her… now she wanted to use that tie on me.

She brought the tie to her mouth, biting onto it, and then she got to work undoing the buttons on my suit jacket and my shirt. Within another minute, they were yanked open, my chest bared to her, allowing her to run her fingernails down it and give me the kind of goosebumps only she could.

My cock hadn’t lost an ounce of its hardness, and she ground her pussy lips along it, teasing me, tempting me. Lola took the tie from her mouth, and as she continued to rock her hips, she leaned down and slipped it over my head, pulling it tight the very second I gave her a look. It was a look that said: don’t overdo it. With Lola, you never knew. She might just kill me—not on purpose, of course, but on accident.

Accidental death while getting off through asphyxiation had to be pretty common, I’d imagine.

“Now it’s my turn to ride you, cowboy,” she purred out, a certain satisfaction in her eyes. She might enjoy being dominated, she might like to be fucked rough and wild, but she also had a thing for being on top, setting the pace, making things more equal. Couldn’t forget that; I had a small scar on my chest where Lola had cut me when we were getting freaky from ages ago.

She lifted her midsection, grabbed hold of my cock with her free hand, and then, after positioning it, sunk down on me, taking me in inch after inch, like her body was made for me. The only thing I could do was shudder—shudder and focus on both the tightness of her cunt and the tie looped around my neck.

And then the crazy girl got to work, riding me like she’d never ridden me before. I swore, I saw stars… but that could be due to the tie around my neck. Either way, it was one hell of a ride, and by the time Lola was finished with me, we’d both come twice more.

If only there wasn’t a serial killer stalking the streets of our city, then we could focus on what really mattered: this.

Us.

Chapter Five – Lola

Sometimes, when I looked in the mirror, I saw his face. It was a face not unlike mine, a face everyone always cooed and cawed over. A face that was beautiful on the outside, that hid the true darkness and depravity lying within.

Aiden. I still saw his face sometimes, still could picture the way the corners of his lips would smirk at me when we were alone, like we shared some kind of personal joke. Sometimes he stared back at me in the mirror, with eyes like mine, his face bloodied—how I’d left him in the bed in that fancy motel downtown.

Other times, he wasn’t bloody. He simply stared back at me where my reflection should be, emotionless, wordlessly asking if I finally had everything I wanted. I’d killed him, killed our parents, and I’d thought… well, we all knew what I used to think.

That I’d find peace. That I’d get caught. That this life of mine would end.

And I used to be okay with that. I wanted to die. After becoming a monster, I’d grown numb to the terror death brought everyone else. I simply had stopped caring.

The people that said be careful, because when you looked the devil in the eye, he stared right back at you didn’t warn of the entire truth. Yes, he might stare back at you, but when you faced down the devil—when you took his fiery, ugly ass down—you became one yourself, that which you’d worked so hard to fight against.

If you took down the devil, you took his place. You became him, even if you tried not to, because it was true: you couldn’t take him down unless you sunk to his level. The things I’d done to get me where I was today, the way I’d gone about this before, during my time as a solo Night Slayer, had made me into something people feared.

Oh, I was confident a lot of folks would say I was just as bad as my brother, if not worse. After all, Aiden hadn’t killed anyone. He’d never sliced someone in the gut and watched their intestines fall out in a heap. He’d never stabbed someone in the jugular just to see how fast they’d bleed out. He’d never enticed men by being drunk and an easy lay.

But that’s the thing. That’s why people would say I was worse. I was a calculated monster, whereas Aiden had done wrong, yes, but boys would be boys. If he would’ve gotten psychiatric help, maybe he could’ve turned his life around. Maybe he could’ve become a normal member of society with no sisterly love in his heart.

Maybe those fucking hands of his would never have touched another woman like they’d touched me.

So many excuses society would give for a rich, white boy like my brother. The future he could’ve had, the things he could’ve done… the men in charge of this country would cry for him more than they’d ever cry for me.

And that, ladies and cocks, was why I didn’t give a shit about becoming the devil. As far as I was concerned, if someone had to take his place, it might as well have been me.

I was the Bloody Queen, the Night Slayer, Lola fucking Harding. I was an angel with a siren’s voice. I was the devil incarnate, and because of that, I refused to sit back and wait for this serial killer to strike again. So, even if it meant I had to continue seeing my brother’s face in my mind’s eye every now and then, I would do what I had to.

Whatever I had to.

Sylvester and Maddox had gone home late last night. Big Mike was out most of the night, though I think he’d gotten back around four in the morning. He hit the sack until noon, which left me with a mostly empty house.

That was, until Harvey showed up with lunch. I let him into the house, and we went to the living room. I texted Viper—I think he was upstairs, working out, but I could’ve been wrong— that Harvey had brought enough food for all of us, but I got no response back, which I took to mean it would just be me and Harvey.

I got us drinks, while Harvey sat on the couch and pulled out the fast food he’d brought. Chicky nugs—you could never go wrong with those. And fries. Ditto. I grabbed us some ketchup, and then plopped myself down on the couch.

“I just saw Sylvester,” Harvey said, causing me to give him a look. “I’m supposed to meet with him every morning at ten to give him my report of the night’s events.” He didn’t touch the food; instead, he leaned back on the couch and rubbed his neck, looking uneasy, like something was bothering him. “Did he tell you he put me on Newton every night?”

“I wanted someone to be on him,” I said, not missing a beat. “A body was found in his club yesterday. When I went, I got a weird vibe off him.”

Harvey’s gray eyes were focused on me, a seriousness to his expression there typically wasn’t. He leaned forward, almost unblinking as he asked quietly, “Do you think it’s him, doing all this?”

We’d talked a little about what was going on behind the scenes. I’d told him not to go around telling anyone else; we were attempting to keep it under wraps for as long as possible, not wanting a mass panic erupting in the city. For a place full of crime, a serial killer would still unsettle most. Me, notwithstanding, of course.

I didn’t know what made me say, “I don’t know, but I’m keeping my options open.” The others might suspect Harvey himself, but there was no way the man sitting beside me was our killer. Just no fucking way. I liked to think I had a bit of a radar for liars and monsters like me, and it didn’t go off around Harvey.

Trust me, it went off a lot when I was around men. I didn’t trust them by nature; I pretty much hated their asses until they proved themselves to me. But Harvey? I really, honestly didn’t get a killer vibe from him.

Harvey laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “You know, it’s funny. I finally found someone I really like, and she likes me back—I think—and now I’m stuck watching Newton for the foreseeable future.” He paused, quickly adding, “Not that I don’t mind proving myself useful to Sylvester. I know he hates me. I just wish I didn’t have to cancel the date we had planned for tonight—”

“What time do you start watching Newton?”

“Eight every night, which isn’t bad. Giulia said she’s free Friday after four, so we’re getting together then.” Harvey got quiet. “I was just excited to see her, that’s all. I know it’s selfish of me, since finding this killer is obviously a priority.”

I set a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. The guy wasn’t muscular. Lean, maybe, but outright muscular? Hell no. I didn’t think a guy like him could cut a girl up like that, not unless he had a really sharp blade… and based on the jagged cuts on the corpses I’d seen, it wasn’t a sharp knife that was doing it.

“I’m sorry Sylvester roped you into it,” I told him, letting him go and grabbing myself a case of fries. I plucked one out of the container and stuffed it into my mouth. Its salty goodness was a welcome relief. “But, with any luck, we’ll have this wrapped up soon. I hope you told Giulia to stay safe out there.” If this chick was from the city, she should know it already.

Harvey nodded. “I told her not to go out and about at night because something’s going down—I didn’t tell her what, though.” He inhaled a slow breath, letting it out as he leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. “I hope you’re right. I hope we find this guy, and I hope we find him soon. I don’t like knowing there’s someone out there, hunting people down like dogs.”

“Girls,” I corrected him. “He’s going after girls… unless there’s bodies we don’t know about, but I don’t think so. He’s going after them because of me—so yeah, we’re gonna find his ass and crucify him.”

And then, as Harvey and I ate, something occurred to me, something that wouldn’t have occurred to me if Harvey hadn’t told me what Sylvester was making him do. Sylvester put Harvey on Newton each night, at eight. Last night, at the same time, Mike left, and he stayed gone.

Let’s just say I put two and two together, and my jaw ground a bit more as I ate, knowing Sylvester was once again working behind the scenes. I’d have to have a chat with him about it, because no fucking way was I going to sit back and let him take the reins.

Harvey didn’t stay long after eating. He did tell me what his plan was with Giulia on Friday: they were going to see an early movie and grab dinner after. What were they seeing? The newest superhero movie.

Personally, I never understood what the big deal was about those things; the movies about the villains were always more exciting. The heroes always had lines they wouldn’t cross to win, while the bad guys had no lines to speak of… and sometimes the only way to beat your enemy was to be just as vicious as they were.

Just as dark. Just as evil. Just as unendingly ruthless and vile. Trust me, I knew all about that.

I texted Sylvester and told him I wanted to talk to him, and he responded by saying he’d be right over. I paced the house, waiting for him to show his face, practicing what I’d say to him in my head. The plan wasn’t to accuse him of going behind my back to go after Harvey, but that’s pretty much what he was doing.

It wasn’t Harvey. It couldn’t be. Newton, on the other hand… he might not have the voice that I’d listened to on the recorder countless of times, but he could be the mastermind. He could definitely be the one pulling the strings.

But Harvey? No.

I wasn’t expecting Sylvester to show up with Maddox, but when he arrived, I saw he wasn’t alone. Both Luciano brothers came strolling to the door, using their key to get inside—yes, after Sylvester had made such a big deal about keeping it locked, I did my best to.

I met them in the front vestibule, stopping when I saw they were both here. Maddox couldn’t hide the frown on his face, his glower pretty dang intense, cluing me in to the fact that something else was going on. The vibe coming off him wasn’t a happy one.

Sylvester’s blue eyes landed on me, and he gave me a strained smile. “Lola,” he spoke. “Are you alone?”

“Big Mike’s around somewhere,” I said, folding my arms over my chest as I leaned against the nearest wall, eyeing my two dangerous lovers up. “Viper left not long after Harvey—Harvey came to eat lunch with me, in case you were wondering. Oh, wait a second. You already know all that, because you put Viper and Mike on his tail.”

Sylvester stared squarely at me. He didn’t exchange a look with Maddox, which told me Mads had nothing to do with it. It was all him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Really? You wanna play this game with me, bucko?” I pushed off the wall, placing my hands on my hips as I approached him. He looked just as fine as ever, wearing a dark gray suit, but just because he was fine and his dick was finer than that didn’t mean he could do whatever he wanted. No. Some things were sure to piss me off, like this one.

“Bucko?” Maddox echoed, glancing between us. “What is going on?” He ran a hand through his black hair. “No one’s telling me nothing. It’s getting real fucking old.”

Now it was my turn to look at Maddox, wondering what the hell he was talking about. Obviously, he was clueless about the whole Viper and Mike following Harvey thing, but there had to be something else.

Playing the peacekeeper, Sylvester suggested, “Let’s have a seat somewhere, and then… then we’ll all talk.” He threw a look at his brother, and even I couldn’t discern what that particular look meant.

Oh, yeah. Something else was definitely going on, but what?

We went to the nearest sitting room—it was a room I never went in anymore, because it was the very room everything had changed in. Where I’d met with Bianca DeLuca… where I’d killed the bitch.

The furniture was all new, of course, as was the large area rug in the center of the room, but even so, it still held such strong memories. If I closed my eyes and breathed in, I could still smell the metallic twang of her blood in the air, could still picture vividly the way she’d looked missing a chunk of her throat.

Good times, good times.

I sat down on a small sofa, crossing my legs and leaning back. The two guys sat on the opposing couch, though Maddox did not sit near his brother. He sat with his entire body turned to face him, and Sylvester merely scowled. Just watching the two brothers made me wonder what the hell was going on.

But first thing’s first. I asked, “You gonna admit what you’re doing, killer, or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?” Just because I loved him didn’t mean I wouldn’t beat his ass. I totally would.

Sylvester sighed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose in an exasperated gesture. “I put Harvey on Newton.” After I nodded, he went on, “And I put Big Mike and Viper on him.”

Even Maddox had to shake his head at his brother at that one. He wasn’t one for politics, but he was smart enough to know that would piss me the fuck off. And it did. It really, really did. Sylvester… he wouldn’t trust my instincts about this serial killer, and that bothered me.

“I know you don’t think Harvey has anything to do with what’s going on,” Sylvester told me, “but I’m not so sure, Lola. He worked for the Bloody Princess, for fuck’s sake. There’s no way he’s that—”

“Awkward?” I offered.

“Yeah,” he said. “Awkward. Weird. Take your pick. There’s just no way. It has to be an act.”

“And if it’s not? What if you’re putting all your cards on it being Harvey, and it’s not?” In fact, I’d be willing to bet my life it wasn’t Harvey. It was impossible. There was just no fucking way. “You should know just as well as I do that being around so much death and crime makes you numb to it.”

Sylvester sighed. “I just don’t trust him, okay? And you shouldn’t, either. Mark my words, there’s something he’s hiding. Even if he’s not our killer, he’s hiding something else. And, let’s not forget, I don’t have everyone on him. We’re also keeping watch over Newton, just like you wanted. I have every man at my disposal on the lookout for this asshole—”

“And it’s not enough!” I stood up, giving them my back as I walked to the window that overlooked the front yard of the house. At my sides, my hands clenched into fists, the anger inside me once more rearing its ugly head. “It’s not enough, Sylvester.”

He surprised me by saying, “I know.”

I turned away from the window, once again meeting his blue-eyed stare. Both Luciano men were such prideful creatures, having grown up in the life of criminal luxury as they had. They’d never been held accountable… until me, so hearing him admit that was something of a shock.

“I know it’s not enough.” Sylvester paused as he glanced at Maddox, who still looked pretty damn grumpy to me. “And that’s why we’re going to see our father. We’re leaving before dawn Friday.”

Ah, so that’s why Maddox was in a pissy mood. He didn’t want to see his father, not after he gave up so unceremoniously and left him and Sylvester to figure it all out themselves. The last thing he probably wanted was to see his father again.

“You can’t just call him?” I asked. “We have to actually go visit him?” Like, cell phones were a pretty huge thing now. Why did we have to pretend they didn’t exist for this specific reason? To get ahold of someone in the event of an emergency? If a serial killer offing girls wasn’t an emergency, I didn’t know what was.

Again, Sylvester looked at Maddox. He was slow in saying, “You’re not coming, Lola. It’s just Maddox and me. You’re going to stay here.” I opened my mouth to argue with him, but he carried on, “And I’ve tried calling him over and over again—he’s not answering. I don’t know if he changed his number, or if he left his phone to die somewhere, or what.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I come with you?” I demanded, moving to the back of the sofa I’d sat in and gripping the back cushion so hard my knuckles turned white. If he thought I’d let them go and sit here and twiddle my thumbs, he was stupid. Sexy as fuck, but stupid all the same.

“You’re not coming, and neither is Viper or Big Mike,” Sylvester said, slowly getting to his feet. “I need you guys here, watching the city. Who knows? Our killer might see us leave and decide to strike again—and if that happens, you need to be ready.”

My anger at not being included in this little road trip was temporarily assuaged by the truth of his statement. The killer might make a move while they were gone, because he might see it as an opportunity. He might leave another body or kidnap another girl… or maybe he’d try to come after me.

Sylvester walked around the sofa, grabbing my hands off the couch when he reached me. He squeezed them, forcing me to look into his sapphire gaze as he whispered, “Just, please, promise me you’ll be careful while we’re gone. I don’t want you going off the deep end without us.”

Me? Go off the deep end? As if.

It took me a while, but eventually I said, “Yeah, yeah, I promise you and all that shit.” When he released my hands, I looked to Maddox, who hadn’t moved an inch, still seething on the couch, his dark eyes staring at nothing in particular. “Why’s he so pissed? Doesn’t wanna see daddy after all this time?”

Maddox shook his head once, growling out the words, “Don’t fucking call him that.” He turned that pissed off stare to me, although he divided his attention between Sylvester and me. “Why the fuck would I want to go see the man who abandoned us when shit was going down? And tell me why the fuck you think he’ll be of any help right now, when more shit is going down, when he couldn’t even stick around before?” He let out an angry chuckle.

“I already told you, I don’t know if he’ll help. I don’t know if he’ll know anything, but he might. No one knows this city better than our father,” Sylvester said.

“No one who’s alive now, anyway” was what Maddox chose to say, referencing people who were no longer with us. Probably the DeLucas. Old Carl, who I had a hand in poisoning. Oopsie. Still not very happy about being used like that.

Sylvester said, “If there’s even a small chance that our father knows something, it’s worth it. We need to find this serial killer and put him to rest for good.” He sighed, bringing that stare to me once more. “Just don’t go anywhere alone when we’re gone. If I come back and you’re his next victim… I swear to fucking God, I will find a way to bring you back from the dead and kill you again myself.”

That got me to laugh. “As if you would ever hurt me, Sylvie.”

His jaw ground, and I knew using the nickname had instantly angered him, but I didn’t care. It took him a long time to say, “No, but just keep that in mind. Do not step foot outside this house without Viper or Mike with you. That’s an order.”

If things were normal, I would’ve told him off for trying to give me an order, but with everything as it was, nothing was normal. Normal had passed us by and was now a tiny fleck in the rearview mirror, a distant memory none of us could picture quite clearly. I knew he was just trying to drill it into me, to make me realize just how much my safety meant to him. I knew it was only because he cared.

That was the only reason I said, “Yes, sir.” If it was another day, if everything was different, I would’ve given him two little birdies and told him to fuck right off.

But things weren’t different, and they definitely weren’t normal. Everything had been thrown to shit lately. This was what we had to deal with, for now at least, and I wasn’t the praying sort, but I prayed them going to see their father would yield something. Some clue, at least.

Not for the first time, we were blind, trapped in the dark, grasping at nothing but straws.

I spent the rest of the day with Maddox and Sylvester, but I couldn’t stop my mind from working, the wheels in my head from turning. They’d both be gone Friday… and Friday was the day Harvey had his little date before his time tailing Newton.

Hmm. I could work with that. One way or another, we’d find out if Harvey was involved.

Chapter Six – Viper

I wasn’t there to send off Sylvester and Maddox. They left before dawn, and watching Harvey had thrown my sleeping schedule to the shits, along with my brother’s. They were going to see their father, apparently, hoping that he’d have something to tell them. Some new information that would help us find the serial killer stalking the streets of our city and put a bullet into his head once and for all.

There was nothing on the Newton front. Nothing at all. Nothing other than a businessman who was pissed at having to close down his club while he had the whole thing cleaned up. It had taken days before the Gilded Rose could re-open, and that was a lot of business lost, I’d assume.

I didn’t know. I wasn’t a businessman. I was more of a hitman than anything else. The brawn, not the brains. I was a guard, a stalker, a shadow. I was whatever was needed, and I would remain that way for the rest of my life.

Mike had watched Harvey all night, and with nothing to report, things were definitely going slow. So, yes, I hoped Sylvester and Maddox were able to find something out. Anything. Any little clue.

Mike and I had an app that followed the tracker we’d put on Harvey’s car, so even if we weren’t with him, we could see where his car was. He parked his car in a parking garage downtown when he was sleeping, so a hood and some careful avoidance of the camera system of the garage had been all that we’d needed to get it done. As far I knew, Harvey was none the wiser.

Neither was Lola. She knew we were watching Harvey, having figured it out on her own, but she didn’t know about the tracker. I think, if she would’ve discovered that, she wouldn’t have let it go so easily.

Lola really did like Harvey. Don’t ask me why, because I sure as hell didn’t know. The guy was all right, I guess, but he was strange. Socially inept, perhaps the most fumbling person I’d ever met. Add the fact that he’d worked for the Bloody Princess before, and it just didn’t make sense. So, in that way, I understood why Sylvester suspected him so much.

I was in my room, changing, having just worked out and showered, when Lola came to me. I was getting ready to take my brother’s place in watching Harvey, so when I turned and saw Lola leaning against the door frame to my room, something nagged at me. Maybe it was the twinkle in those beautiful baby blues, or maybe it was the way the right corner of her mouth curled upward in a mischievous smirk.

Or maybe that was just Lola being Lola.

“I have a favor to ask you,” Lola said, pushing into my room, walking with an added sway to her hips. “It’s one you’re not going to like, but I don’t care.” She wore tight black leggings that had the look of leather, even though they weren’t, a low-cut pink top clinging to her chest. The shiny, diamond-encrusted skull Sylvester had bought her hung around her neck. Her blond hair was a bit messy, its waves uneven and unkempt, but that was Lola’s signature look.

A sexy, hot mess.

A part of me knew I would never be able to deny whatever it was she wanted me to do, even if it wasn’t something good. I just barely resisted my urge to touch her, saying, “What it is, then?” She was never one to beat around the bush, so her reluctance to speak I took to mean was pretty bad.

“Harvey has a date tonight,” Lola said. She closed the distance between us, drawing a hand down my chest and fixing any stray wrinkles in my shirt. “A movie and then dinner before he’s supposed to be on Newton duty. There’s only one movie theater downtown.”

I said nothing, because I didn’t catch on to what she was trying to say, not yet.

“I want to go with you,” she said. “I want to watch Harvey with you today. And then, later, I want us to come home.”

I didn’t know what to say. Lola wanted to come with me and watch Harvey, but then she wanted us to leave him be before my brother was ready to take my place? That meant no one would be watching him.

“Sylvester’s gone. Harvey’s got to know he doesn’t trust him. If Sylvester’s right and he’s our bad guy, I doubt he’d sit around and go on a date tonight. No. If it’s him, he’ll be doing something else.”

“So then why wouldn’t we watch him? Why leave him be?”

“Our killer is careful. He knows how we operate. If he’s our killer, he’s got to know he’s being watched. Maybe if we pull back, he’ll make a move.” Lola bit her bottom lip, pulling away from me.

I sighed. “You want to try to prove to Sylvester that it’s not Harvey.”

She grinned at me. “You know me all too well, Viper. Yes, I want to do what I can to prove it to him, because there’s just no way it’s Harvey. No way.” She shook her head once. “I know what killers are.”

“He’s not just a killer—he’s a serial killer.”

“Yeah, and serial killers are different than you and Sylvester and Maddox. They’re different than Roman and Carter. We are different. We like our rituals and our routines. I’m more like him than I am like you.”

It occurred to me then that was why Lola wanted to be right about Harvey. Not only was this killer going after young, pretty girls, mutilating their bodies and raping them, but he was a serial killer just like she was. Granted, she hadn’t killed in a long time, not like she used to, but she’d long since stopped pretending she was just another pretty face. She knew she was deadly, and she owned it.

She wanted to be right about this because of her pride. Because, if she couldn’t pick a serial killer out of a lineup, what good was she? How good of a serial killer could she be?

Or maybe this all just made her doubt what she’d done, and now she sought to find repentance in the only way she could: by killing the serial killer stalking the city streets. By taking the city back by force and being its dark queen.

“You’re not like him,” I told her, taking her face in my hands after swiping her hair aside. I cupped her cheeks, made her look into my eyes, and I hoped my expression told her that I honestly, genuinely believed it. “You’re nothing like him, Lola.”

She gave me another smile, but this one was smaller, a little disheartened, and I could tell she didn’t believe me. “But I am. Past the semantics, we’re both killers. We both enjoy what we do. We just do it for different reasons.” Her lids fell, eyes closing. “I kill because of what the world made me. He kills because of what I made him.”

My thumbs caressed her cheeks, causing her eyes to open to slits. “You didn’t make him a killer,” I told her, meaning it. “None of this is your fault.” I’d lost track of how many times we’d told her this, how often Sylvester, Maddox, Mike and I had told her that what was happening now wasn’t her fault.

It didn’t matter, because no matter how many times we told her, she never believed us. Deep down, she’d always blame herself for this, place all those deaths on her shoulders. All those girls, she considered tortured and dead because of her—but that wasn’t fair. Lola didn’t make him into a killer, whether he was Harvey or Newton or someone else.

“I wish you were right,” Lola whispered. She lifted her hands, setting them on my sides, her fingers curling in the fabric of my shirt. “I just can’t fight this feeling, Viper, that I made him. He said it in the tape: he’s doing this because of me. He’s my responsibility, my monster to put down.”

I closed my eyes, leaning my head down. My forehead touched hers, and for a few moments, we simply stood there, not doing much of anything other than breathing. I wished I could make Lola see that none of this was her fault, but maybe that was something that’d have to wait until after the motherfucker was caught. Once he was dead and the streets were relatively safe, then I could focus on making sure Lola didn’t blame herself.

Or maybe I’d have to put all of my efforts into helping her forgive herself.

Lola exhaled a long breath, its heat blooming across my face. Our noses touched, my hands still holding onto her cheeks. She’d leaned her body into mine, and I felt her chest touch me every time she inhaled. We were so close, and even with my eyes closed, it was hard to stand there and not want to rip off her clothes piece by piece until she was naked, throw her onto my bed, and hold her the rest of the day, make love to her in a way that would help her forget all of her worries.

But nothing was that simple.

“Sometimes I wish everything was different,” she whispered, sounding sad. A rare moment of vulnerability no one saw of Lola. She always acted so confident, so self-assured, so crazy and maniacal. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if my parents would’ve cared about me more than they cared for Aiden. If they would’ve stopped him instead of taking me to the doctor again and again until they decided to remedy the problem permanently.”

I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t imagine the horrors she’d gone through when she was growing up, the terror that living in that house must’ve created. The things her own brother did to her… I only wished I would’ve been there to see him die.

“I probably would’ve gone to college. Maybe graduate school. Or maybe I would’ve found myself a husband and been married already.” Lola got quiet, her head turning down, her forehead now against my nose. “Maybe I’d be pregnant. Maybe I’d actually want to have kids.”

My hands still cupped her face, and I moved my head until my lips rested against her forehead. “You’ll only torture yourself if you let yourself think about the what-ifs,” I whispered.

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes opening as she pulled her face away from mine, just a few inches. She reached up and curled her hands around my wrists, though she didn’t tug me off her face. “But if I can’t catch this guy, what good am I, Viper? What’s the point of this?”

Those questions, at face value, meant something different than what I knew she meant them as, and that was why I told her, “Sometimes the point is just to live. Sometimes it means getting through another day. It doesn’t always have to mean life or death. We’ll get this guy, Lola. We will. I know we will. You have a whole crew of people behind you. Me, my brother, Sylvester, Maddox, Roman and Carter—hell, even Fang and the Beast, from what I hear. Everyone is out looking for this guy, so we’re going to find him. We’re going to stop him, and when we do, when it’s all said and done, we’ll be right by your side for whatever comes next.”

The hands she had curled around my wrists tightened, and she murmured, “You have a way with words. You should be a poet or some shit.”

I chuckled. “I don’t know about that.” Before either of us could say anything else, I brought her face back to mine, my lips finding hers. I kissed her hard, hoping the passion and heat of our embrace would help soothe her broken spirit.

That’s the thing about Lola. She might act crazy, she might act vicious and cruel sometimes, but she was the most broken out of anyone I’d ever met. Life had been so unkind to her, it truly was a miracle she was still standing. My broken, beautiful, bloody queen.

She practically hummed into the kiss, and before I knew it, she was working on my belt. As if sensing my thoughts, she pulled her lips off mine to whisper, “Come on, just a quickie. Then we can go full-out stalker mode.”

Considering I’d never agreed to let her come with me, she was taking a lot on faith here… but maybe that’s because she knew I couldn’t say no to her, not with Sylvester gone. Besides, maybe it was a good idea—maybe we needed to bait our killer into making his next move. And if our killer knew he was being watched, he’d wait until he didn’t have a tail to make the next play.

She backed up until her spine hit the wall near the door, her mouth finding mine once more. When it came to Lola, I could always find time to be with her. I didn’t stop her from pulling my cock out, though I did moan into the kiss when she began to stroke my length.

As it hardened in her hand, she whispered out, “There’s my one-eyed snake. I’ve missed the guy.”

I rolled my eyes; as if we didn’t live together. As if we didn’t see each other every single day—and fuck that often, too. I said nothing, though, because soon after getting me rock-hard, she pulled down her leggings, kicking them off.

I grabbed hold of her thighs, holding her up as she spread her legs around my midsection, and then… then with little guidance, my cock pushed into her, and I fucked her against the wall like she wanted me to.

Her head fell back, a pleasure-filled sigh escaping her lips as I pounded into her. My length could fill her up and then some, a snake indeed, and with each thrust of my hips, I knew we edged closer to a release that would dominate us both.

“Oh, yeah,” Lola purred out, her arms hooking around my neck. “You know how to treat a lady, Viper. You feel so good.” Her eyes were closed, completely lost to the bliss that only came with letting go.

I could say not a word in response, too focused on keeping the fast, jarring pace with my hips. Maybe I waxed poetically before, but now… now I had a single goal in mind, and that was exploding inside her, filling up her body with my cum, and staining those leggings that she’d surely yank on after this.

Her body was a perfect fit for me. Every part of her. Her cunt wrapped around my cock tight and snug. Her arms perfectly locked around my head. Her slender body arched against the wall, accepting of each and every pump from me. We worked together in unison on opposite ends, me giving, her receiving.

Neither of us lasted particularly long, and we came damn near the same time. She cried out when the orgasm hit her, and I could feel her inner core clamping down harder around me, her muscles tensing up as the pleasure hit her.

My own orgasm exploded within me shortly after that, my body lurching forward, slamming her against the wall harder as my cock spewed its seed inside of her. I moaned out a growl, slowing to a halt after I’d emptied myself. I didn’t want to move.

But, alas, we could not stay here. My brother was waiting for me to relieve him, and I guess Lola was coming with me.

So, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I helped Lola’s legs down and pulled myself out of her. I ignored the glistening of my cock as I stuffed myself back into my pants and zipped up. While I buckled my belt, I watched Lola slip on her leggings once again.

“There,” she said, straightening herself out. “A quickie. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, onto the stalking!” She turned and skipped out of the room, and as I trailed after her, I wondered if we were making a mistake, if me allowing Lola to come with me was a bad move, if leaving Harvey to his own devices tonight was wrong.

Well, we had tracking, so I’d be able to see where his car was regardless, though I couldn’t tell Lola that.

Mike was parked in the alley just outside the parking garage where Harvey kept his car, and when he saw me pull up, he waved at me. And then he saw I wasn’t alone in the car, that a pretty blond sat beside me, and his expression morphed into a scowl. He shook his head, and when we pulled up to him, he rolled down his window.

Our cars faced the opposite direction; once he was gone, I’d have to turn around, but it let me roll down my window and speak with him.

My brother wasn’t a talkative guy. When words weren’t necessary, he didn’t speak. He was the opposite of Harvey; he didn’t need to fill all of the silence in his life with his own voice. Because of that, I’d learned to read his facial expressions pretty well.

Right now, for instance, he was giving me a look that said, What the fuck, Viper?

“Lola wanted to come with me tonight,” I said, shrugging.

Still, Mike looked at me like I was nuts. I probably was, for letting her come with me, but who was I to argue with her? Besides, her idea did make sense. Harvey knew Sylvester and Maddox were gone; she’d probably told him—not to see if she could draw him out, but so she could finally prove Sylvester wrong and show that our killer wasn’t Bianca DeLuca’s awkward ex-driver.

Mike didn’t say anything. He simply drove off, leaving us without saying a single word, though, like I’d said, his expression said enough.

I got the car into position, turned her off, and we waited. We waited until four in the afternoon, and then we waited some more. It was a whole lot of waiting; you could go crazy if you weren’t careful. You also couldn’t stare at your phone the whole time, mindlessly scrolling whatever social media site you wanted. You had to pay attention, otherwise there was no point in you being there in the first place. Hence why it was so boring.

Lola checked her phone. “This is odd. That movie he mentioned seeing is just under three hours long—” When I gave her an incredulous look, she laughed. “Dude, I know. Three hours for any movie is fucking insane. But the point is, he should be leaving anytime now if he’s going to pick her up. If he’s meeting her there, then I guess he’s got some time still.”

I didn’t say anything. We’d wait longer before we jumped to any conclusions—and that’s exactly what we did. We waited another thirty-five minutes.

“The movie’s already started,” she said. “We’re sure he’s in there? We’re sure he hasn’t left yet? Mike didn’t see him go?”

I shook my head. “No, he would’ve said something.” Just to be sure, though, I did text Mike… and then when Lola wasn’t looking in my direction, I checked the tracker on his car. It said it was still in the parking garage, untouched.

“I’m going to text him and tell him I hope he has fun on his date,” Lola said, her head turned down to do just that, her fingers working on overdrive as she punched in the text. She bit her lip, her eyebrows furrowing.

When her phone buzzed, I asked, “What’d he say?”

“All he said was thank you.” She set her phone on her lap and looked at me. “Let’s go to the movie theater—maybe Giulia is waiting for him outside?”

I didn’t turn the car on right away. I stared at her, waiting a moment before asking, “Are you sure you want to do this, Lola? Are you sure you want to leave him be tonight?” If we left now… well, we could always come back, but I had the feeling we wouldn’t.

“Yes,” she said, frowning. “Let’s park somewhere near the theater.”

We got rolling, carefully driving by the entrance to the parking garage, not seeing a single living soul within as we went. Lola chewed on her lip the entire drive to the downtown theater, not saying a single word to me.

The movie theater was the kind of place you’d imagine was the place to be way back when. It had lots of lights that blinded anyone on the street when it got dark, big signs jutting out over the sidewalk with movie titles and times. Red velvet carpet once you got inside, after you bought your ticket from the ticketmaster behind his wall of glass. A very old-fashioned kind of place, although it had seen better days. Much better days.

I parallel parked us across the busy four-lane street. With all the rush-hour traffic, there was no way he’d be able to see us—that was, if he actually showed up. The more minutes that passed, the less likely I thought he’d be here.

“This Giulia,” I started, “do we even know what she looks like?”

“No,” Lola muttered with a frown. “At the bar, when she introduced herself to Harvey, I was busy talking to Newton. I didn’t see who it was. There were a lot of chicks there that night. By the time I was done talking to Newton, he said she’d left.”

My finger tapped the steering wheel. “Have you tried to find her online?”

“Oh, because I’m super big into social media, yeah. You know me. I got profiles on all the sites—” Her tone dripped facetiousness, and she only stopped when I shot her a quick glare. “I might be a serial killer, but I’m not Joe Goldberg. I don’t stalk people online.”

“So that’s a no, then,” I said. “So, really, we don’t know that Giulia’s even a real person.”

“She’s real.”

“How do we know that, though? No one has seen her. This is his first date after being put on Newton—and he’s not showing up. And I don’t see any woman standing around in front of the theater waiting for him, either.”

Lola sighed. “So, you agree with Sylvester, then? You think it’s Harvey?”

“I’m not saying that. I just think it’s fishy, is all.” I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking, and as I stared at the theater across the street, it dawned on me. “You said you were talking to Newton when this woman came onto Harvey?”

“Yeah. A-plus for your listening skills.”

“We’ve never seen this chick, so by all accounts, she might not exist. What if… what if he saw you talking to Newton and knew it was a good time to make a little alibi for himself?” I paused, another possibility popping into my head. “Or what if Harvey had help to make that alibi?”

Lola squinted at me. “Help? Who’d…” She trailed off, unable to finish the question, probably because she came up with the answer all by herself. “You think Harvey and Newton are working together?”

“It’s a possibility, isn’t it?” Just based on the expression Lola gave me, I could tell I’d surprised her by that suggestion. It was one no one had thought of before—or if they had, they hadn’t told me about it.

I didn’t know much about Harvey, minus the fact that he was an awkward son of a bitch with an almost innocent aura about him. Which, to this day, I found odd. That, and he was a DeLuca loyalist before the shit hit the fan for them and the Bloody Princess tried staging a coup. He’d pretty much worked for her half his life, since he got behind the wheel. His pops had worked as Carl’s driver, so he had a way in.

And Newton? He ran one of the clubs in the city we knew was a DeLuca hangout. It’s why Richie had put Lola there to begin with, made her audition and become an act, as short-lived as it had been. Newton’s ties were always to the DeLucas, in the end, so it wasn’t a stretch to think he’d want Lola out of the picture.

Because if Lola was gone, the Luciano brothers would crumble, their power weakening enough that he could take them down, for good. He could eliminate the last of the old families and put himself right on top… and have Harvey as his right-hand man.

Shit. The more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

I told Lola my thoughts, and she didn’t say a word as I explained it to her. She listened with a thoughtful ear, her lips puckering and the hands on her lap tightening into fists. She said not a word until I was done, until I asked her, “What do you think?”

“I think…” Lola paused, swallowing. “I think the motive might be there, you’re right. But the voice on the tape—”

“Anyone can download an app that changes your voice,” I told her. “It’s not hard. That voice you heard probably isn’t even a real voice, just a computer auto-tuning it or something.”

Lola leaned her head back on the headrest, moving her blue eyes to the roof of my car. She shook her head gently, muttering, “But it’s familiar. That’s the thing, Viper. It doesn’t sound like a voice made by some app or computer—it sounds like a voice I know. I know I’ve heard that voice before, and it’s not Newton and it’s definitely not Harvey.”

“Then there’s a third person?” I offered, shrugging. “We know Newton has a bunch of men at his disposal—maybe it’s one of them and you overheard him talking one of the times you were at the Gilded Rose.” It was a possibility. It was all a possibility.

But that was the problem. We had a shit ton of possibilities and no hard facts, other than the bodies. The police had run tests on the body, tested for fingerprints and even ran the DNA of the semen left in the body against their databases. No matches, meaning whoever our perp wasn’t in the system. Sylvester had gotten the information from Jimmy Boy, the cop in our pocket, and Jimmy had no reason to lie. Plus, he’d given Sylvester a copy of the results.

We knew nothing. Our foe had the advantage here, without a doubt. I hoped that would change soon, because I didn’t know how much longer Lola could go on like this. She was driving herself mad—and she was already mad, so…

“I don’t know,” Lola whispered. “I just don’t know.”

Wasn’t that the statement of the month.

We waited there, on the street, for a while, watching the entrance to the movie theater, waiting for Harvey to show up with someone. Waiting to see a woman looking annoyed at her late date. Anything. But after an hour, with no movement and no updates, we decided to call it.

We went home.

Lola wasn’t very happy, and she locked herself in her room shortly after we got back. She said she wasn’t hungry for dinner, so whatever I did, not to make or get her anything.

My brother was up, and he stood at the base of the stairwell, watching Lola head up the stairs as she stormed away, sullen and broody. When those hazel eyes of his met my stare, he didn’t need to ask; he already knew we didn’t see anything.

I pulled out my phone, checking the tracker. It still showed a dot at the parking garage. I gestured for Mike to come with me to the kitchen, and he followed me without a word. I got us each something to drink, and I slid onto one of the bar stools near the island. My brother preferred to remain standing, leaning his backside on the counter, staring at me all the while.

“Something’s not adding up here,” I muttered, my fingers running over the smooth countertop. “He said he had a date tonight, but he never showed. Lola texted him good luck on your date, and all he said back was thank you.”

Mike harrumphed. “And what if she canceled on him and he didn’t want to tell anyone? He’s an awkward guy. Maybe this woman decided he wasn’t worth it.”

I guess my brother had a point there. It was possible that happened and he was too embarrassed to say anything. I spoke, “I don’t know. A part of me wonders if Giulia even exists.” I then told him all about my theory of Harvey and Newton working together, wanting to see his reaction, to hear his thoughts.

He was silent for a while. For a long while. As in, a damn minute passed before he said anything. “I don’t know. Newton’s shady, and I don’t know the first thing about Harvey besides him being weird, but…” He let out a loud breath. “I think I’m with the girl on this one, Vinny.”

Vinny. He only called me that when he was being totally, one hundred percent serious.

“You think there’s more to this that we’re not seeing?” I asked.

Mike nodded once, turning his head to check the archway, making sure Lola wasn’t standing there, probably. When he brought that stare back to me, his voice was low, a whisper, “Don’t quote me on nothing, but I think he’s someone we’re overlooking, somehow. He knows us, knows Lola. I think he wants us thinking it’s Newton or Harvey, or both. I bet you he’s counting on it, because while we’re zeroed in on them, he’s free to do whatever he wants. If something happens tonight while we’re not on Harvey’s tail, it won’t be because it’s Harvey making a move just because he can… it’ll be because he’s ready.”

“You think it’ll happen whether or not we’re watching Harvey?”

“I think we’re already down the path he wants us, so it’s only a matter of time before he gives us the jump scare, and then…” Mike quieted, because we both knew what happened in the movies after the jump scare.

Then the bad guy really did show up. He showed up and he started killing.

It was after eight when Lola came downstairs again. Her phone was in her hand, and she was busy frowning. I’d already checked the tracker; Harvey had left his place on time and was now on Newton, at the Gilded Rose, just as he was supposed to be.

I sat on a couch, watching something stupid on TV, while my brother was reading something on a tablet in the couch’s matching recliner. Both our eyes turned to Lola the moment she walked in.

“I asked Harvey how his date went,” she said. “And he told me it was good. So then I asked about the movie, not that I give a shit about it, and he said it was good.” When neither of us said anything, she went on, “That’s fishy as hell, isn’t it? What kind of superhero movie is good?”

I glanced at my brother, and he lowered his tablet, thinking. To my surprise, it was Mike who spoke first: “Deadpool was pretty good.”

“Oh, yeah, Deadpool,” I agreed. “That motherfucker was funny.”

Lola let out an annoyed groan. “Can you guys focus? I don’t really care about any stupid superhero movie—although, wait a second. Would you even consider that one a superhero movie? I mean, isn’t he more of an anti-hero or whatever? Ugh, listen to me, arguing the semantics about a stupid guy in a stupid costume—the point of this is, Harvey is lying to me. Obviously.”

I waited for Lola to say more, because yeah, at this point, we knew he was. The real question would be whether or not something would happen tonight, since he wasn’t being tailed. The fact that he was lying about his date was unsurprising.

“Well? What are we going to do?” Lola asked, and neither Mike nor I gave her an answer.

There was only one thing we could do at this point, and it was exactly what my brother had said earlier: we’d walk the bloodied path the killer had put out for us, the one he had led us down victim by victim. We’d wait. We’d wait until he popped out and tried to come after one of us, or until he made a mistake and revealed himself to us.

The jump scares were the bodies he’d left us. The next time he surfaced might just be the end of the line.

Chapter Seven – Maddox

We didn’t get on the road as early as my brother wanted, and it was true, it was mostly my fault. Hey, I didn’t say I’d go with him. I didn’t fucking volunteer myself for this little trip. Sylvester had told me I was going with him, and that was that, apparently. I couldn’t say no, even if I wanted to.

And fucking trust me, I wanted to.

So, yeah, I slept in a little. I also made us stop for breakfast and had about five cups of coffee at the diner, which meant we had to stop for piss breaks more often than Sylvester would’ve liked. It took us a lot longer than it should’ve to get there… mostly because I didn’t want to get there.

Hell, I didn’t even know where it was, not really. If my life depended on finding that miserable little town on a map, I’d be dead. Just dead, right there. Although, if someone was holding me at gunpoint to force me to tell them where my father was, I’d question their sanity before they killed me, because who the fuck wanted to find that old, washed-up has-been? Definitely not me.

I didn’t want to see him, that much should’ve been clear. If Sylvester wanted to talk to him, to see if he knew anything or could help us, he could’ve gone on his own easily. But no. He just had to drag me along for this stupid fucking family reunion. I would’ve rather him tied me up to a chair and tortured me to the point where I lost consciousness.

As far as I was concerned, my father was dead to me. Fucking dead to me. Just dead. I mean, who the fuck just left their kids when a fucking war was going on? Honestly, our father had always been stupidly idealistic, but I never once imagined he’d give up and run away and leave someone else the mess to clean up.

But that’s exactly what he did, and I’d never forget that.

When we got to the town, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at it all. The small town feel. The one-way streets. This place’s downtown was like a fucking drop on a map, barely big enough to be labeled. One grocery store. One gas station. A few little eateries but nothing with a name you’d recognize.

It was all so dreary and boring. I didn’t understand how anyone could like living here. I mean, I guess if you grew up knowing this sort of life, you might be fine with it when you were older, but I’d much rather live in the city alleyways than this dump of a town—and I meant full offense to everyone who liked places like this.

“When we see him,” Sylvester was busy saying, not for the first time during this whole drive, “be nice. Don’t be a dick. He’s still our father, Maddox.” He made a right-hand turn, taking us away from the so-called town and out into the true boonies. You know, where there were no sidewalks and you couldn’t see your neighbor’s house from your front door.

The middle of fucking nowhere. Again, I didn’t know why anyone liked living here.

“Yeah, yeah,” I huffed. “I get it. For the thousandth time, I fucking get it.” If I sounded pissed off, that’s because I was. Everything about this trip pissed me the fuck off. The prospect of seeing our father for the first time in what felt like forever was not one I was looking forward to.

It hadn’t even been that long. That’s the thing. Not that much time had passed, and yet… yet it felt like the man had cut all ties with us. Like he wanted to become a stranger. Like Sylvester and I were just reminders to him of everything he’d lost.

Mario. Our mother. His empire. The hope he used to have that the families would come together after he married Angelina DeLuca.

But it was never true peace. Carl might’ve held off his men from outright war for years, but behind the scenes, Bianca had always stirred the pot because she wanted to take over and run it herself.

Didn’t the asshole know that he wasn’t the only one who’d lost people he loved? Didn’t our father know that we lost them, too? We lost our mother years ago… then we lost our brother. And then, after Bianca made her move, we lost our father, too.

Sylvester looked at me, narrowing his blue-eyed stare. Dark eyes ran in my family; the cerulean hue of his eyes, along with his blond locks, were a constant reminder that he wasn’t a brother by blood. We shared a last name, but he wasn’t a true Luciano.

I was.

And I was the only one left, since our father was dead to me.

I guess, technically, I was the only DeLuca left, too, a fact that no one wanted to admit to themselves anymore. As far as Bianca had been concerned, I was a Luciano, even though half of my blood had come from her family, from her sister.

“I mean it,” my brother told me. “He’s probably not going to want to see us, let alone talk to us, if him not answering his phone is any indication, so you’ve got to swallow your piss-poor attitude down for now. You can be ticked on the way home.”

“I still don’t know why I had to come,” I muttered. “Why couldn’t you just come by yourself?”

Sylvester made another turn, this time down an uneven street that definitely needed a new layer of pavement. “I thought he might be more receptive to talking if he sees us both. It’s harder to turn away two people than it is one.”

“And what if he’s not even there? What if he packed what little shit he had and left again?” Our father had told us the cabins were a safehouse of sorts, but what if a part of him had always wanted to abandon our city and our life of crime? If our mother had told him she’d run away with him… was this where they would’ve gone?

I didn’t like thinking about that.

It took my brother a while to say, “Then I guess we turn the car around and go back home.” As if it was simple. As if, by not saying it, neither of us would have to face the reality of what it meant if our father wasn’t at this cabin.

What was the reality? Let me fucking tell you.

If he wasn’t there, if he packed up and left without telling us where he was going… it meant he was gone. Just gone. It meant he was nothing but a memory for us both, that we’d more than likely never see his ass again.

At this point, I was fine with that. Ignoring the unbearably long car ride here, which was torture in and of itself, I’d be fine with never seeing our father again. As far as I was concerned, I’d said sayo-fucking-nara the moment he decided to stay and not come back to the city with us.

I didn’t say anything more to Sylvester. It didn’t take us much longer to find the end of the driveway that led to our destination. Most of the trees around here were thick with pine needles, the air cooler here than it was back home. I imagined they got a lot of snow here, which must suck some major ass. You probably had to have your house packed with shit, just in case. Food, extra blankets, all the shit you’d need if you were locked in your house because your car was stuck under three feet of snow.

Can you see what I mean when I asked why the fuck would anyone want to live here?

The cabin our father was staying at was actually one of two. Two cabins that were pretty much exactly the same sat on the property, the driveway splitting at the end to lead up to both. They weren’t too far from each other, but they weren’t built twenty feet apart. Only one of the cabins looked to be inhabited, and as we pulled up, my brother and I exchanged glances.

So the asshole was here still, after all. Lucky us.

Sylvester pulled the car up to the garage door. It sat open, our father’s car plainly visible inside. The cabin had one attached garage door, the house built up on wood so it wasn’t directly on the ground. We got out of the car, and together, we headed up the wooden steps to the front door.

Sylvester exhaled loudly, his fingers curling into a fist, and then he knocked. He knocked twice before he stepped back and waited. We stood side by side, waiting for our father to answer that door and, with any luck, also be the savior to all of our problems.

But the door didn’t open.

My brother and I glanced at each other again, and without saying anything, Sylvester went to knock a second time. When he pulled back and folded his arms over his chest, a frown forming on his face, I growled out a sound and hit the door myself.

The idiot was knocking like he was afraid to touch the door. If you wanted someone inside to hear, you really had to pound your fist on it like you were the big, bad wolf about to blow the whole thing down. The door rattled on its hinges.

As I pulled back, he muttered, “That seemed unnecessarily violent.”

I looked at him. “Unnecessarily violent is my—” I was about to say middle name, but right then, I heard the lock inside the house unlatching. Within seconds, the door swung open to reveal a face I half-expected not to see.

A face much like mine stared back at me, brown eyes so dark they bordered on black. Black hair the shade of a night sky with no moon sat on his head, a bit longer than it should’ve been—and a little greasier. His jaw was covered in thick stubble… stubble so thick I might hazard to describe it as a beard.

But, no, my father would never have a beard.

But here he was, scruffy, dirty, and very much like a fucking lumberjack. I guess he’d let himself go since he’d given everything up and moved here permanently.

And he was wearing plaid. Fucking plaid.

One of his hands kept hold of the door, and I could see it squeezing the wood harder as he gazed upon Sylvester and me. His jaw ground—though it was hard to tell with the new beard. I can see he didn’t look too thrilled to see us. Well, ditto pops. Fucking ditto.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Sylvester started, “and we—” The door shut right then, practically slammed in both our faces, causing him to abruptly stop.

Sylvester and I shared a look. He was about to rap his knuckles on the door again, but within another second, our father came out. He’d thrown a coat on and had keys in his hand. He said nothing as he pushed past both Sylvester and me, heading down the steps.

“Uh, should we follow?” I asked.

“Yeah” was all my brother said before darting after him, and I trailed after him.

Our father went right for his car, getting in and starting her up. He said not a single word to us, nor did he throw us a glance as he backed up, maneuvering his car around Sylvester’s to get out of the garage. Once he was out, he hit something on his vizor and the garage door shut, and then… then he just drove off like we weren’t even there.

The prick.

Sylvester and I looked at each other. We hustled to the car, got in, and we were on his tail. Didn’t know where the asshole thought he was going, but he wasn’t going to get away from us that easily. We’d found him, and we’d driven all this way—and now that I’d seen him, my fury at him had only grown.

Who the fuck did he think he was, ignoring us like that? Fucking driving off like we didn’t deserve his attention? Fuck, I really did hate him right now, and I didn’t know if those emotions would ever fade.

“Where is he going?” I asked, watching as he made a left out of the driveway. He wasn’t booking it, so I didn’t think he was trying to lose us—and if he was, then he’d definitely lost some of his touch, because he was kind of driving like a grandpa right now. Slow and steady, even using his turning signals.

I know. What. The. Fuck.

“I don’t know,” Sylvester said, “but we’re going to find out. We came all this way. The least he could do is talk to us.”

Every turn our father made, Sylvester followed. We tailed his car all the way back into town… where he suddenly pulled off the road and into a parking spot right in front of the local grocery store. It was such a small place, its parking was out front, right off the road. Maybe ten cars could park there at a time. Disgusting.

Sylvester pulled into an open spot, and we watched as our father got out of the car and headed inside the store. The place had a wall of large windows in the front, allowing you to see inside. Most of the shops on the main street in town were built in the same way. There looked to be one register in the front of the store, near the windows, and the man standing behind it waved to our father when he walked in.

I glared. Was our father grocery shopping?

“What the hell is he doing?” I asked, incredulous. I was more than annoyed by now, more than furious. This guy… ugh, this fucking guy. “Should we go in?” I undid my seatbelt, ready to hop out at a moment’s notice.

“No.” My brother held up a hand, stopping me from storming the stupid grocery store. “Let’s wait until he comes out.” He glanced at me and shrugged.

At this point, I didn’t want to argue with him, so I tried to simmer down.

Our father walked out a few minutes later, carrying a bag full of things from the store. He didn’t go back to his car straight away; he walked next door to the grocery store, to the butcher’s place, where he then must’ve placed an order for some meat, because the next thing I knew, he was coming out of the butcher’s place with an extra plastic bag. He finally got in the car and drove off.

As Sylvester followed him, I muttered under my breath, “This is so fucking weird.” Our father was going about his day, acting like we weren’t there. Doing his errands, while we were just his shadows.

A few minutes later, we were back at the cabin, slowly pulling in behind him. Our father parked his vehicle in the garage, getting out and bringing his bags with him. He did not invite us into the house; in fact, he slammed the door quite hard in our faces.

“Is he really going to pretend we’re not here?” I asked, my patience running thin. Honestly, I didn’t understand how Sylvester could be so calm and collected right now, given the way our asshole of a father was acting.

“I guess so,” Sylvester said, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the closed door.

“Well, we should barge in there and make him face us,” I said. The wind lapped at me, and since I didn’t have a suit on like my brother, I shivered. It wasn’t outright cold yet, but it definitely was getting nippy.

“No. Just hold on. Let me think.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes—his thinking face, I guess. God, my whole family was fucking weird.

I didn’t know how much time passed before the door to the cabin opened again, and this time our father came out without keys, though the guy still didn’t look at us. He bounded down the steps, and once he reached the ground, he made a left and headed in the opposite direction of the garage, toward the trees.

“Wait!” Sylvester called out to him, but our father didn’t wait. He kept going, which meant we had to follow him yet again. Yippee.

On the side of the cabin, our father had a little setup going. A small chicken coup, with actual chickens in it, pecking at whatever was on the ground in their wire enclosure.

Chickens. My father actually had chickens.

I didn’t know how to take that information.

Beyond the coup was an area with a large, thick stump. The trees in the area had been cleared, and an ax sat wedged in the stump. Near the stump, logs of all shapes and sizes were strewn about.

Our father went to pick one up, checking it out before setting it down and moving on to the next. He seemed content with going about this… this, whatever the fuck this was supposed to be, so I called out to him, “Hey, asshole! We’re here to talk. The longer you put us off, the longer we’re here, and trust me when I say, the longer I’m here, the more pissed off I’ll get.”

He didn’t acknowledge me at all. He didn’t react, which pissed me off even more.

“Goddamn it,” I growled out, lunging for him when he picked up another log. I tore it out of his hands, and it narrowly avoided our feet as it fell to the ground. “Stop ignoring us!”

His dark stare locked with mine, the intensity residing in the depths of those eyes reminding me of why he’d been so feared. Feared, respected; it was all the same. As scruffy as he was right now, that was the stare of a man that could kill you as easily as he could breathe, a man who could put a bullet in your head and watch your brain explode and sleep soundly afterward.

Fine. So he might look like a lumberjack, but somewhere inside that gruff appearance sat the mob boss I grew up admiring. Somewhere deep. Very, very deep.

“Take the ax off the stump,” my father whispered, his voice low.

I didn’t know what his game was, if this was his way of challenging me or whatever. I said not a thing, moving around him. I went to grip the ax, thinking it’d be easy to yank it off the damned stump—but the thing was in there pretty good. The wood was hard, whatever it was. I had to use two hands to get the fucking thing out… and a leg braced against the side of the stump.

He went to pick up the log I’d yanked from his grasp, and he set it down on the stump, flat side up and down so it stood on its own. He gestured for me to continue, crossing his arms and waiting, never once taking that intense stare off me.

He wanted me to split the fucking wood? Fine. I’d split his damned wood and then I’d split his fucking skull.

I lifted the ax onto my shoulder. After tossing a glance Sylvester’s way, I brought the ax down upon the wood. It… barely made a dent in the wood. My brother stifled a laugh, but I heard it.

Give me a fucking break. “I’ve been in the car all morning, coming here,” I told my father, who still stared at me, waiting for me to do something. I rolled my shoulders and relaxed my muscles, breathing out a short breath to prepare myself for another go. I swung the ax up, and then I brought it down with all of my might.

The fucking ax got stuck an inch down in the wood, and no matter how hard I tried to yank it out, all I ended up doing was toppling over the log.

My father grunted out a sound of disapproval, and he pushed past me, grabbing the log and setting it back up. With one hand on the ax, he pulled it out, making it look effortless—and then, because he was an asshole, he threw a look over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow at me, as if asking me, really?

He wasn’t going to impress me by chopping some fucking wood like a damned lumberjack. He wasn’t. Whatever this was about, whatever this was trying to prove, didn’t matter. In the end, this whole trip was going to be a waste.

“Stand back,” my father advised, and I took a few steps away from him. Sylvester stood on the opposite side of the stump, watching him and I go back and forth, not saying a single word. For whatever reason, our father was especially pissy at me. That wasn’t new; he’d always hated the fact that I didn’t give a shit about learning the ropes.

And why would I? Sylvester had made it crystal fucking clear he had a better head than me, that he’d make a better leader than me. He was smarter; I wasn’t going to try saying otherwise.

My jaw ground as our father hoisted the ax up, both hands curled around its wooden handle. He moved fast, bringing it down upon the positioned log and cleaving it in half easily, splitting apart the wood like that wood had been asking for it.

Okay, so maybe he didn’t let himself go too much. He could chop some wood. I bet that made people around here cower in their fucking boots.

“I loosened it up for you,” I muttered, unable to help myself. Both Sylvester and our father shot me a glare at that one, and all I did was roll my eyes and shrug. I wasn’t going to take it back, because I did loosen it up. I hit that motherfucker twice before he split it; that surely had to have made it easier for him.

Also, fucking sue me. I didn’t know how to chop wood. I didn’t want to know how. That was one skill I would die happy having never known. I wasn’t built for chopping wood or taking care of chickens.

I didn’t know how long we stood there, watching our father chop the log into smaller, more manageable pieces, but it felt like an eternity. And all the while, he kept his trap shut, like he had nothing to say to us. You’d think, with the way we were being treated right now, we were the children he’d had but never wanted. He’d never been the picture-perfect specimen of a loving father, but before, at least he looked at us in the eye without seething.

“Help me carry this inside,” he said, bending over to pick up a few pieces. Without waiting for us, he rounded the cabin, around the chicken coop, and went to the front door.

Neither Sylvester nor I hurried to pick up the wood. I looked at my brother, waiting for him to say something. “Well? Tell me we’re not helping him do his fucking chores—” Just by the expression on his face, I knew we were.

Oh, great. Chores here we come.

Swearing under my breath, I bent to pick up some wood. I stuffed my arms full, and Sylvester did the same. By the time we entered the cabin through the front door, we found our father kneeling by the fireplace in the small living room area, starting a fire. He’d rolled his sleeves up, showing off his toned forearms—I guess that hideous flannel pattern did hide his muscles. He hadn’t quite let himself go like I’d thought.

“Where do you want the wood?” Sylvester asked. The wood our father had brought in was already in the fireplace.

He pointed without looking at us. “There.” A small metal rack sat in the corner of the room, a few feet away from the fireplace. We unloaded our armfuls there, stacking them as best we could.

You’d think, after that, he’d talk to us—but nope. He didn’t. The only other thing he said was: “Take a seat.”

Sylvester and I exchanged the millionth what-the-fuck glance of the day as we did just that. There would be no arguing with our father. He was definitely in a mood, though that was him pretty much every damn day.

I couldn’t imagine why living out here wasn’t doing his disposition any favors. I mean, nature was supposed to cure everything, right?

Fucking nature. It was disgusting.

So we sat. We sat and waited. We sat and waited while our father did whatever the fuck he was doing. Every so often, he came to stoke the fire, jostling around the wood until he got a good flame going. Not once did he ever spare us a second glance, and as the day wore on, I started to wonder if he was ever going to stop and give us a few minutes. Just talk to us. We were his children, so it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

Eventually, he called us over to a small table in the kitchen, and Sylvester and I got up and each took a seat. Our father set plates down before us, the aroma of what he’d cooked for close to the last hour filling the air.

Steak, by the look of it. If I had to guess, I’d say he got it from the butcher’s earlier.

We watched as he took up a chair, picked up his fork and his knife, and started cutting into it. He cut a small square, stabbing it with his fork and bringing it to his mouth. His dark eyes closed as he tasted it, a slow breath coming from him, like it was the best thing he’d ever had.

Swallowing, he opened his eyes to look at Sylvester and me. “Well?” he asked. “You’re shitty guests if you don’t eat the food I made for you.”

“We didn’t come here to have dinner with you,” Sylvester spoke, treading carefully.

Me? I think being perpetually pissed off all day had given me an appetite—that, or the steak just smelled great, because I didn’t hesitate. I dived right in, getting a taste of it for myself. And, yes, it was damned good. So good I groaned when the meat’s succulent juices exploded in my mouth.

Holy shit. This was amazing.

“Eat,” our father commanded, and Sylvester was forced to do just that. Maybe if we played nice, he’d finally fucking talk to us… and if not, at least we’d get a kickass steak out of it. Steak, beans, and even mashed potatoes.

Our father, the ex-crime lord, the ex-mob boss, now a chef. Look at how the tables had turned.

The table was quiet as everyone ate. Forks scraped against porcelain, knives sawing away at the slab of meat on our plates. No one tried to say anything else, all of our attention on eating. It was a damned good meal, I had to say. Our father had even given us each a glass of red wine to go with it. Wine wasn’t my favorite drink, but I sucked it down nonetheless.

It was only when all of our plates were empty, the food resting comfortably in our bellies—only when our father had given us each a top-off of wine that he leaned back in his chair, dark eyes on Sylvester and me, and spoke, “You didn’t come here to eat with me, so why did you come?”

“Your phone—”

“I put it down to forget about it,” he said. “Don’t really need a phone out here.”

That didn’t sit right with Sylvester, because he shot back, “What if we need you and we can’t reach you?” His hands were fists on the table, his mouth thinning into a frown as he stared daggers at our father.

“Then you’ll get in your car and drive here just like you did today,” our father stated. “Besides, you shouldn’t need me. You should know how to handle everything by now, son… or is everything different now that you’re the one in charge?”

“It ain’t just him,” I said. “Lola took over the DeLuca’s fortune. She’s living in their house right now.” Okay, maybe I was still a little pissed off at how long our father had refused to speak to us today, making us follow him around town, making me out to be an idiot because I couldn’t chop some fucking wood.

He practically growled out the words, “Ah, yes. The serial killer who murdered your brother. The one you two were so intent on fucking. I assume, then, you’re still with her?” When neither my brother nor I answered, he grunted out a bitter sound. “I figured as much. Never thought I’d raise my sons to be the kind of men who’d worship someone who’d put one of their blood in the ground, but I suppose everyone’s wrong at least once in their life.”

It was no secret that our father hated Lola. Hell, I’d hated her too, at the start. When I sat down and thought about it now, I grew angry at her—of course, I did—but that anger was now accompanied by love. Cheesy shit right there, but I couldn’t change it.

“What are you two doing here?” our father demanded.

“If you would still have your phone, we wouldn’t have had to come all the way out here to ask,” Sylvester pointed out, “but we’re having… issues with another serial killer.”

Taking his wine glass up to his lips, our father took a long swig. Pretty sure you weren’t supposed to gulp wine down by the mouthful, but then again, I wasn’t much of a wine guy, myself. “Why come to me? Why not go to the serial killer you two are sharing like some high schooler’s porn-infused sexual fantasy?”

I just barely was able to resist telling him off, and I could tell Sylvester was struggling to remain calm as well. My brother managed to say, “We’ve been trying to get him for a while now, but no matter what we do, he refuses to be caught. We think he knows how we operate. He’s been good at dropping the bodies of his victims where the police won’t get to them right away. He’s left multiple bodies in the warehouses, and on the Beast’s territory.”

“I’m assuming there’s more to this besides him leaving bodies where you don’t want them,” our father said, and he was right. Bodies were common in our city; with the rate of crime and all the higher-ups in someone’s pocket, new bodies were being discovered all the time.

“He’s stalking Lola,” I muttered. “He sent her a head and a tape.”

He chuckled at that. “A tape, you say? You’ve heard his voice?” When both Sylvester and I nodded, he went on, “You say he’s stalking your killer. You sure he hasn’t sent anyone else a tape?”

“Not that we know of,” Sylvester said. “We’re at a dead end trying to find this guy. I was hoping you’d have a new idea, or maybe you’d know who he could be—right now I’m looking at Newton and the Bloody Princess’s ex-driver.”

Our father shook his head at that. “No, there’s no way it’s Newton. That man wants power, and he would never put himself or the power he’s attained in jeopardy by being a serial killer.”

“That’s what we thought, but this week a body was left in the Gilded Rose, and Lola said he was acting weird,” Sylvester said.

“Just because he was acting weird doesn’t mean it’s him.” He rubbed his cheek, his new beard. “And this driver… what evidence do you have it’s him?”

I rolled my eyes. “Nobody but Lola likes the guy. Something’s wrong with him. Something has to be wrong with him.” And if nothing was wrong with him, then… just… damn. If he wasn’t hiding a secret life, he was lamer than I thought.

Our father didn’t appear impressed. “Simply because you don’t like him doesn’t mean he’s your killer. You both know that. I hope you didn’t drive all the way out here just because you needed to hear me say that.” The chair he sat on creaked as he leaned his weight back in it, and he divided his stare between Sylvester and me. “What are the facts?”

“He’s been killing for a few weeks now,” Sylvester said. “Young women. Always pretty ones. We know he beats them before he kills them—he also rapes them. He’s very violent. He’s taken to cutting their necks so deeply the heads are typically severed. The past two bodies, however, he’s also mutilated their faces.”

“How?” our father asked, never one to shy away from the gruesome details.

I spoke, “He cut their lips and cheeks off. It makes the heads look like Lola’s mask.” I didn’t know how much of the mask my father ever saw, but it was a fact we couldn’t ignore. “And the tape he sent her… it said he was doing this because of her. He admitted it’s because of her.”

“So, you’re looking for someone who hates your girl. I can’t imagine there’s a shortage of people who would like to take her down. I’m assuming this all started when she took out Bianca?”

It was Sylvester who said, “Yes, it started then, just about. Maybe a week or two after.”

Our father was quiet for a while, and he rubbed his jaw and scratched his beard, thinking. “And what have you two done to try to catch him? What have you done to find him and put a bullet in his head to end this? The last thing you should want is the FBI catching wind of this new serial killer. If they come—”

Even I knew what would happen if the FBI came. Nobody wanted that. “We know,” my brother said, interrupting him. “And we’ve tried everything. We’ve gone out every night, patrolled the streets, gone to the clubs—anywhere he might find his victims. I’ve got every man on the lookout.”

“Sounds to me you need to stop trying to find him and let him come to you” was what our father said. When neither of us said anything to that, he shrugged. “You’ve been going at it from the wrong angle, son. If he knows how you operate, nothing you do will catch him. The only thing you can do is—”

I grew irritated once again, and even the delicious food in my stomach didn’t quash the annoyance inside. “What? Give up? You think we should wave the fucking white flag and let the asshole get what he wants? Yeah, I’d bet you’d be real happy if we took a step back and let him at Lola. You’d probably throw a fucking party.”

“If you were smarter than your pride, you’d realize what I’m saying,” our father growled out, taking up an attitude with me just as I’d done to him. Hey, I guess I’d inherited my piss poor moods from him.

Glancing at Sylvester, I was met with an equally confused look. Neither of us understood what he was trying to say, and after hours in the car, the last thing I wanted to do was play charades by trying to guess what he meant.

Our father let out a loud sigh, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the table. “Your killer wants your girl. When you get down to it, past the bullshit, that’s what you know, so use it.”

“Use it?” I echoed, brows coming together. “What the hell do you mean, use it?” When I threw another glance my brother’s way, I saw his expression had changed, like he’d finally discovered what our father meant by it. Lucky him. Now if one of these two assholes would tell me what the fuck they were talking about, that’d be great.

His dark eyes turned to me, a scowl of epic proportions. “I mean, Maddox, use your fucking brain. I know it’s been tweaked out on booze and sex since you turned fifteen, but surely you’ve got a few brain cells still working in there.”

My fingers curled into fists on my lap, and I was this close to lunging across the table and strangling my own father when Sylvester spoke up, “You think we should give him Lola.”

He nodded, the severe glint in his gaze remaining. “If she’s who he wants, give her to him. Let him have her.” With him saying that, he probably meant just let him have her for good, but he also knew we couldn’t sit back and let the killer take her from us. “Give him the girl, and when he’s busy dealing with her, take him out. Problem solved.”

Sylvester didn’t say anything to that, and I could tell he was lost in thought, thinking about it. I, on the other hand, didn’t like that option. “You’re saying we use Lola as fucking bait? Come on. This isn’t a movie. When you use people as bait, nothing goes right.” And if nothing went right… were we willing to do it still, even if Lola got hurt in the process?

Or if she died? Fuck.

“As far as I see it, it’s your only option right now. You’ve tried everything else. You want it to be Newton or Bianca’s old driver, but I think your hopefulness is making you ignore other possibilities,” our father said, getting up as he took his plate into the kitchen. He set it in the sink, walking back to get ours.

As he did that, Sylvester and I shared a look, and I could tell my brother was actually thinking about it. The asshole was actually giving consideration to our father’s advice—but the thing was, it was shitty advice.

We couldn’t let Lola be bait. We couldn’t.

Sylvester got up, grabbing his wine glass, along with mine. He brought them into the kitchen, setting them on the counter near the sink. He stood beside our father, slow to say, “I think you’re right. We’ve exhausted all other options. He hasn’t taken the bait yet because we haven’t given him the bait he wants.”

I stood. “Are you forgetting the night we let Lola walk downtown by herself? Nothing happened—”

“Nothing happened because someone hit on her and she lost her cool on them,” Sylvester reminded me. “Who knows what would’ve happened if we would’ve had a full night of her walking around? Maybe he would’ve come for her.”

“If he’s someone who knows you all, he would’ve known you were watching from the shadows—which, I’m assuming you were,” our father said, turning around and folding his arms across his chest. “It sounds like he wants her to himself, and he won’t make any moves until he’s sure he’ll be able to get her alone.” He paused. “So, send her out, alone. Really alone.”

I didn’t like the thought of pushing Lola out into the night and basically telling her, good luck. It must’ve been written on my face, because my father grunted out, “What? She can take care of herself, can’t she? I certainly hope so, otherwise it’s even more enraging that she managed to take down your brother.”

Our father would always hate Lola, I think, and I couldn’t blame him. If fucking love hadn’t entered into the equation, I’d probably be stuck on hate, just like him. We were more alike than we were different, even if I hadn’t inherited the brains to be the head of the family.

Sylvester was busy nodding to himself, though he didn’t say anything. I could tell, though, he agreed with our father, that when we got back after leaving this dump of a cabin, our plan to find the serial killer would change.

Going out alone was what Lola had wanted to do all along, but nobody thought it was a good idea. Nobody wanted her to go out alone, because, if she was by herself, she wouldn’t be able to hold back. She’d gladly dig her own grave if it meant putting this serial killer in the ground with her.

And that was the problem.

“If there’s nothing else,” our father spoke, “I suggest you leave and get to it.” Not that it was time for a family bonding experience, but it was kind of aggravating that he wanted us gone so quickly. Like he didn’t really care to see us or spend time with us. Like he didn’t miss us.

Sylvester looked at me, gesturing toward the cabin door. “Come on. We should go.” He didn’t thank our father as he led the way, nor did he give him a second glance. As I followed him, neither did I. If our father was going to basically say, fuck off, then we’d say it right back.

We left the cabin, bounding down the wooden steps and heading straight for Sylvester’s vehicle. We got in, neither of us saying a word as he started her up and drove away, once again leaving our father in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. But, hey, if he wanted to be a stupid lumberjack, go for it. I wouldn’t miss him.

It was when Sylvester turned out of the dirt driveway and onto the road that I broke the silence of the car by saying, “Tell me we’re not really going to let Lola try finding this guy by herself.” I understood we all wanted to be done with this stupid serial killer and avoid the FBI catching wind of it, but if that meant trading Lola… no. I wouldn’t do it. I would take the FBI raiding our house over losing her.

“Our father was right, Maddox,” he said, leaning his left arm on the window with an accompanying sigh. “What we’ve been doing is obviously not working, so we need to change things up. That serial killer wants Lola, so we’ll give her to him.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “And you don’t see the issue there? Dude, she’s fucking nuts. She doesn’t care if she lives or dies half the time. Can’t you see how sending her after this guy might backfire?”

He shot a blue-eyed stare my way. “I didn’t say we’d send her off alone.”

I blinked. “What… what the hell are you talking about? Wasn’t that the whole point of what our father said?” I could tell there was something Sylvester wasn’t saying, and I frowned at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

And then he told me exactly what he was planning.

The little motherfucker. He’d planned ahead, somehow, knowing this might be our only option. I had to hand it to him; it was smart. One way to let Lola go without really letting her go alone.

Still, there were risks involved with the plan, though the risks were the same with any plan. We could lose. We could lose the one thing that my brother and I agreed on, the one person who made us both feel alive, who helped us feel a little less insane.

We drove back to the city, though it took hours. Night fell before we crossed the bridge to the city. We were going to Lola’s place, to tell her what the plan was—well, most of the plan, anyway—but then we got a call.

Sylvester answered his phone. “Lola, what’s going on?” He shot me a look as he listened to whatever it was Lola said. “Hang tight. We’re almost there.” He hung up the phone. To me, he said, “It seems our killer made a move.”

“Another body?” I asked, knowing how crazy that would make Lola.

“No,” he told me, and then he smiled.

Well, that smile wasn’t foreboding in the least. Not creepy at all. Yeah, a smile like that would definitely not haunt my dreams.

Chapter Eight – Lola

Sylvester and Maddox were almost back from their little trip. It was good timing, too. After night fell, someone tossed a small rock into the living room window, sending it straight through the glass. When Mike and Viper had gone to investigate, they’d found a tape sitting on the driveway, too far away from the house to be caught on the cameras Sylvester had installed.

Inside, I was a ball of nerves. Hah. I know, me? Nervous? It was ridiculous—but all this shit with this serial killer made me on edge. I went to get the tape player from my room, and together, we huddled around my bed as I switched out the tapes.

Looked like keeping Big Mike and Viper here had been a good idea. We might not have gotten a tape otherwise.

My breath suddenly thick in my lungs, I hit play.

“Lola Harding,” a low, menacing voice spoke on the tape, the same voice as the first, “I’ve been watching you run around like a chicken with its head cut off.” He stopped to inhale a ragged breath. Whoever it was didn’t sound too healthy. “It’s been fun, can’t lie. Leaving you little presents here and there… I hope you’ve liked them.” He coughed.

Jaw grinding, I wished I had the fucker here in front of me. I’d really give him a piece of my mind—and by that, I meant a knife in his gut. Or a baseball bat to his kneecaps so he’d never walk again.

“But I can tell you’re growing tired of this game.” He practically growled out the next words: “I am, too. It wasn’t supposed to last this long, but I just had to leave you another present in the Gilded Rose. I hope you liked her. I left her there for you.” A pause. “Well, you and that asshole, Newton.” A dark chuckle left the man, the sound so low it sounded almost inhuman. “I bet you thought I was him, didn’t you?”

A sinking feeling rose within my gut, because I had. My thoughts ran wild in my head.

“Even after all this time, Lola, you’re still so blind. Have you forgotten me already?”

He started to say more, but I paused the tape. The hairs on the back of my neck had started to stand straight up; even the hairs on my arms did the same. Both Mike and Viper stared at me, their hazel eyes wordlessly questioning.

After gathering myself, I hit play, and he continued, “You made me into this… this monster. You took everything from me, and now I’m going to take everything from you. I’m going to kill you, Night Slayer, just like I killed all those other girls. I’m going to make you scream before I end you. Everything you are, I will destroy. You may have forgotten me, but I haven’t forgotten you for one fucking second.” Such hatred in his voice. Such pure, vile hatred.

“Come to the warehouse district tomorrow at midnight—alone—where you and your men like to get rid of bodies. Come to me, alone, and maybe I’ll let your men live. Maddox, Sylvester, Viper, and Big Mike. If you want to save them, come to me.”

I glanced at Viper and Mike. Not many people outside our circle called them by their nicknames, which meant that we were right and this guy did know us. He knew everything there was to know about me, and he knew all about my guys.

“If you don’t, I will kill them all. Every one of them, one by one until you’re the last one left. Everything you’ve gained you will lose. You might’ve beat me once, but you won’t do it again.” He coughed again, though this time it was more of an uncontrollable fit he couldn’t fight. He said nothing else, the tape ending.

I sat on the edge of my bed, setting the player down without a word and getting my phone. I dialed Sylvester. “Lola, what’s going on?” he asked. After I told him about the new tape, he added, “Hang tight, we’re almost there.” And then he hung up. I didn’t tell him the details of the tape, because he could listen to it himself after he got back.

“Shit,” Viper finally broke his silence. “He sounded a little better this time, less sick. The first tape, he didn’t sound familiar, but this time…” He glanced at his brother. “He called you Big Mike.”

All Mike did was nod.

That terrible feeling in my gut wouldn’t go away. “He hates Newton, too,” I whispered. The body he’d left in the Gilded Rose had been as much a present for Newton as it had been for me. But why? Why did he hate Newton?

“Newton can be a dick,” Viper pointed out. “The guy doesn’t make it hard to hate him.”

Our killer wanted me to meet him alone tomorrow night at midnight, where we liked to dump our bodies into the river. Something told me that my guys wouldn’t like the idea of me going to meet him, but at this point… what other choice was there?

I believed him when he said he would kill my guys if I didn’t go. Now, whether or not he’d actually succeed in killing them was another story, but was I willing to take that risk?

It was a long wait until Sylvester and Maddox got here, or at least it felt like it. It felt like a fucking eternity passed before they strolled into my house in a rush. We were waiting for them in the kitchen, the rock and the tape player sitting on the island. I’d rewound it so they could play the tape and hear it from the beginning.

Sylvester grabbed the tape player, sapphire gaze meeting my stare. No one said anything as he hit play.

As I listened to the man on the tape again, I wanted to vomit. That voice… I knew I’d heard that voice before, but where? It was like my mind didn’t want to put the pieces together, like something in my brain was blocking it.

Once the tape was done playing, Sylvester set it down. He glanced between Viper and Big Mike, something finally dawning on him: “What are you two doing here? Shouldn’t—”

“One of them be watching Harvey?” I offered, and Sylvester frowned at me. “Yeah, I went with Viper to watch Harvey a little. He was supposed to have a date today, before his shift stalking Newton. He didn’t, though.”

“He lied about it,” Viper clarified. “Lola texted him about the date, asking how it went, and he said fine.”

“But that voice in the tape… it’s not Newton,” I said, knowing it in my heart of hearts. It was someone else, someone else I’d obviously met before and fucked up… but who? “Whoever he is, it’s not Harvey and it’s not Newton. He hates Newton just like he hates me.”

Viper asked, “What did the big man have to say?”

I watched Sylvester and Maddox exchange a look. Neither one spoke right away, but it was Sylvester who said, “He thinks we should give the killer what he wants.”

“Me,” I said, causing all eyes around the island to stare at me. “He wants me.” How long had I known that? Since practically the beginning of this whole mess. I didn’t fancy myself a psychic, but maybe I should be. Get myself one of those crystal balls and some tarot cards and get a side hustle going. Fortune-teller by day and Bloody Queen-slash-Night Slayer by night. What a combination.

“We’re not sending you alone anywhere,” Viper declared, but no one else agreed with him, at least not out loud. That caused him to look at the others. “Right?” When no one responded to him, he frowned. “Don’t you tell me—”

Sylvester said, “Giving him what he wants might be the quickest way to end this. We all want this over with, don’t we? What we’ve been doing hasn’t worked. Now, I’m not afraid of this guy—I don’t think he could get close enough to us to actually kill us—but he wants Lola to come alone. My guess is he’ll be watching somewhere to make sure she’s alone, and if she’s not, he won’t show his face.”

“So, what? We just send Lola out there, by herself, and hope she can draw the guy out just so we have an identity?” Viper didn’t sound too thrilled at the prospect. “What if he kills her? Figuring out who he is isn’t worth that.” Beside him, Mike nodded along in agreement.

“Hey, I can take care of myself,” I reminded them both. “I’m not some helpless chick who doesn’t know left from right. I can handle myself. I’m going, whether you agree or not.”

Viper opened his mouth to argue, but Maddox spoke, “None of us like the idea of letting her go out by herself. I sure as shit don’t like it. But… this might be our only chance.” That dark stare turned to me, heavy.

“No fucking way,” Viper said, shaking his head. “No. Just no way! We’re not letting her go out there by herself! I won’t do it—”

“Yes, we are, and yes, you will,” Sylvester interrupted, his words firm and completely serious. “She will meet him alone.” No one could argue with him, because he took on that tone that said, that’s an order.

Well, at least I didn’t have to convince him to let me go. I was anticipating a problem with it, that he’d want to come with me, like Viper so clearly did. It was a relief, even if it was odd. Sylvester wasn’t one to let me march head-first into danger by myself, but maybe going to talk to Daddy Luciano had helped him see the light.

“Now that that’s settled,” I said, “I should try to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.” I shot them a smile before walking off. But as I went, I couldn’t fight the feeling inside me that told me this meeting with my killer wasn’t going to go as planned.

I reached my room, stripped off my clothes, and lay in bed. I probably should’ve taken something to help me sleep, because sleep didn’t come right away. I stared at the ceiling in the darkness, wondering what tomorrow night would hold.

I’d finally meet my killer. I’d put a knife in his heart and make him regret hurting those girls. One way or another, this game of cat and mouse was going to end… and right now, I had no idea who would come out as the winner. Who was the cat in this game? Was it me, or was it the other killer?

All my life, I’d never had a protector, someone who was willing to do anything to keep me safe. The ones who should’ve protected me ended up throwing me to the wolf, over and over again, turning a blind eye when they should’ve been helping me. To say I wasn’t angry or bitter about it to this day would be the biggest lie of all—and it was because of that I would never stand down.

This killer wanted me? He’d get me, knives and all. I wasn’t afraid of him or what he could do to me. Everything a man could do to me had already been done. I’d already lost things I could never get back, and I’d be damned if I let him kill Sylvester, Maddox, Viper, or even Big Mike. Those guys were mine, and I would do anything to keep them safe, even if it meant…

Even if it meant leaving them.

I’d never been afraid of death. I didn’t want to die, of course, but a part of me knew the guys would be okay if they lost me, eventually. It might take a year or two, but they’d move on. Time kind of forced you to. The thought of them with another girl enraged me to no end, but I’d be dead at that point, so there was no use getting pissed off about it.

I wasn’t giving up, though. I wasn’t going to lay down my weapons and surrender to this asshole. No, I’d try my damnedest to take him out. That was the best-case scenario.

Sleep took me eventually, and when it did, I didn’t dream. No dreams of old mommy and daddy just doing their best. No nightmares of my brother and his wandering hands… or other body parts. Just the pure, undiluted nothingness that only came with oblivion.

And then I woke up.

Maddox and Sylvester never left last night. They’d slept in two of the guest rooms in the house—having a freaking mansion, there were plenty. They, along with Viper, tried their best to keep me calm during the day. They tried to distract me from the night’s upcoming events with sex, and a lot of it, but for once, even a good dicking couldn’t distract me from the anxiety.

The hours passed, and I did a lot of aimless wandering around the house. I didn’t eat much, though Sylvester did force me to eat something for dinner. If I met this asshole on an empty stomach, I’d only be doing him a favor. Pizza, because you could never go wrong with pizza.

I showered and got ready after that. I spent a long time doing my hair and my makeup. Had to look good, you know? If tonight was going to be the cowboy standoff between two serial killers, I had to look my best. Ain’t nobody looking better than me.

I changed into a bralette that kind of matched my mask; it had a few dangly bits and cupped my tits perfectly. I paired it with a thin leather jacket with spikey studs on the shoulders, along with shorts and some fishnets. The diamond-encrusted skull pendant Sylvester had gotten me a while back sat on my collarbone, sparkling in the light. The look was finished with a pair of ankle-high boots. My mask sat on my bed, waiting for me.

A full-length mirror sat in the corner of my bedroom, and I stared at my reflection for a while. My blond hair was kinky and wild, my blue eyes looking particularly bright thanks to the makeup I put on. The scar on my stomach was visible, and I ran a finger down it, along the white, risen flesh.

I used to hate looking at it. I hated seeing it, knowing the pain that had come before it. And after. But now… now I was coming to view the scar like it was a part of me.

A knock on my open door brought me back to the present, and I turned away from the mirror to look at the man standing there. Wearing a suit, like always, Sylvester was beyond handsome. With his blond hair combed back, he looked slick, a man you wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, eyes on me as I was slow to walk towards him.

I nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Which was to say, pretty fucking ready. “Is Viper still pissed?” Didn’t know why I asked; of course he’d be pissed. Really, all four of them were pissed at this plan, but it was the only plan left.

“You will keep your phone in your pocket and call me as soon as you can,” Sylvester reminded me of my duties. That was, assuming I lived through the encounter with the mysterious killer. “You will not let him get under your skin, no matter what he says—do not let him blind you by making you angry.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I purred out, giving him a smirk. “Anything else?”

He stepped away from the door, bringing his hands to my hips, beneath the leather jacket. “Yes,” he whispered, pulling me close. “Be careful. Don’t do anything reckless. We all want him dead, but we want you alive more, Lola.” He waited a moment before adding, “I love you.”

The way he stared down at me, with how tightly his fingers held onto my sides, I knew he wasn’t lying. Sylvester Luciano loved me. It still sounded weird in my head, like even now I thought I didn’t deserve it.

“I love you, too,” I whispered back, and he lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me gently. An odd type of kiss for us, but today wasn’t exactly a normal day. The kiss was just another reminder of that.

When Sylvester pulled his mouth off mine, his gaze dropped to the necklace I wore. One of his hands left my side, going to touch the skull pendant. “We won’t be far from,” he said. “So if you need us, don’t hesitate to call us, okay? If you can’t take him down by yourself, then we’ll help you.”

As annoyed as I’d been with Sylvester for keeping his existence a secret from me before, it was sweet, in a way, him offering to help me kill him. Gals, get yourself a boyfriend who’ll want to share in your interests, whether your interests involve knitting, resin-crafting, or killing.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, not for the first time. I’d have my phone in the jacket’s right pocket, along with a few knives. Small little daggers, tucked neatly away in my jacket, along with two in my boots. Oh, I was as ready as I’d ever be.

I grabbed my mask from my bed, and then it was a waiting game.

We didn’t tell Harvey what was going on. He was still stationed to watch over Newton tonight. Sylvester was going to drop me off at the edge of the warehouse district, the part of the city that had been abandoned long ago, and from there I’d walk to the meeting spot. I figured the guys would hang out somewhere nearby; close enough to be there should I need them, but far enough that the killer wouldn’t see them.

I was ready. I was as ready as I’d ever be. This had been a long time coming, and after tonight, one of us would be dead.

Eleven forty-five rolled around, and that’s when we got going. Sylvester took me to the old industrial area, and I slid on my mask. Neither one of us said anything during the drive. My hands were in my pockets, heavy with small silver daggers and my phone.

My mask felt heavier than ever before, almost as if it carried the weight of tonight with it. My breathing echoed in it, the lower half of my face hot, but I didn’t mind. This was the Night Slayer’s mask now, and tonight I would unleash her true batshit craziness. This guy thought he knew what he was walking into, but he was wrong. I was gonna go full Rambo on his ass.

The drive took longer than I thought it would—we arrived at the edge of the warehouse district just before midnight, and I looked at Sylvester. We shared a long, lingering look before I got out. I shut the door behind me, staring off at my destination. When I heard him drive off, I started walking.

The Beast had some territory here, but where I was going was our turf. We had a warehouse we used for some fun times, although those fun times had been pushed out of my mind the night we found all those bodies arranged for us, including Tina’s headless corpse. Whoever this guy was, he’d been watching us this whole time, watching me.

Well, soon enough we’d meet face to face, and I’d put an end to the questions.

I walked with my head held high, unbothered by how dark it was, how eerie the atmosphere was. If I was anyone else, I might be tempted to be afraid of all of the shadows. The only light came from the moon and its silvery hue lit up the puddles on the ground.

I went straight to the place the killer had told me to meet him: where we put our bodies in the river. No one else was around yet; I was alone, and so I stood at the edge of the concrete border, my gaze on the river ten feet below. The current was just as strong as ever, the perfect current to carry bodies away.

How many corpses had been tossed into this river? How many people had been eaten by the fish that surely gathered here, waiting for their next meal? If the bodies ever washed up somewhere, I didn’t know.

The night was silent, save for the sounds of the river and its current. I stood there for a minute, listening to it, and it was as I listened that something hit me. Something I hadn’t thought twice about, because it was impossible. It… was impossible.

But that voice… his hatred for me and everything I stood for, his hatred for Newton…

I heard the sounds of footsteps, but before I could turn around, something sharp suddenly poked me in the ass. I reached around my backside, feeling something sticking out of me, something sharp enough to have gone right through my shorts.

I pulled it out and brought it to my face, studying it in the moonlight as I finished turning around. “My ass, really?” I asked, but just like that, the world got a little blurry. Everything grew hazy and I got a case of the dizzies. My feet felt wrong, my knees wobbling, unable to keep me upright. “You mothahfuckah.” I couldn’t even say the word right, my tongue too heavy for my mouth.

I struggled to remain upright, and I pulled out my phone to dial Sylvester. I couldn’t keep standing. As I fell to the cold, damp ground, my fingers let go of my phone. My face was turned toward the sky, and struggle as I did to keep conscious, whatever was in the dart was too much for me.

My eyes rolled back and I was out.

Chapter Nine – Sylvester

After dropping Lola off, I drove to a nearby alley and parked my car. It was out of sight to anybody who’d drive by on the road. I turned off my lights but kept my car running; had to be ready in case I had to jump into action.

I texted the group chat I’d created earlier. Maddox, Viper, and Big Mike were all stationed at various places nearby. Technically, Lola did go to meet the killer alone… we were less than minutes away.

Come on. Like we were really going to let her walk off and do this completely on her own.

My gun rested on the center console, ready to be used. I couldn’t lie; I felt the need to use it, to bury some lead in the skull of the sick fuck we were looking for. It’d been a while since I’d put somebody down. When you were a Luciano, killing was just part of the job. It wasn’t like I got off on it, not like Maddox did—or Lola. For me, it was a job, something that must be done occasionally to rule a city like this.

I thought back to how restless Lola had been today. I wished I could make her feel better, wished I could take the burden of this off her shoulders, but I couldn’t.

A new message in the group chat brought me back to the present: it was from Maddox. A car just drove in.

I was going to respond and tell him to follow the car from the shadows, but right then, my phone rang. My eyes watched as Lola’s name flashed across my screen, and I was quick in answering it. “Lola?”

But I didn’t hear anything. She didn’t speak, and soon enough, the line went dead.

Shit.

I dialed my brother’s phone, putting the car in drive. Maddox answered within the first ring, but before I could say anything, another car pulled up on the sidewalk near the alley, blocking my exit. Instinct took over, and I ducked, leaning down over the center console and into the passenger’s side.

Not too soon, because right after that, a bullet pierced the front windshield of the car. Within seconds, a spray of bullets pelted my car, and I worked on putting it in reverse, backing it up deeper in the alley, away from the shooters.

Hard to do without looking, trust me.

I hit the speaker button, shouting to my brother, “I’m pinned down. Our killer brought some friends.” I grabbed my gun, resting it against the top of the dash. I shot off a few rounds and was greeted by another spray of bullets.

“I’m coming your way,” Maddox started to say.

“No! Go to Lola. I can handle myself.” As I said it, I fired off another few shots; it’d be easier if I could actually aim, then I could take these assholes out. I went into the glove compartment and pulled out a box of extra ammo. I put the car in park and loaded my clip back up, bullet after bullet.

It wasn’t long before Maddox whispered, “Shit. Sounds like Viper and Mike have company, too—”

“Get to Lola,” I ordered him. “I don’t care what it takes.” As my poor vehicle was sprayed yet again with another round of bullets, I stayed on the line with Maddox as I typed something else out.

Good thing I had a backup plan, because after these fuckers were dead, I doubted my car would be driving anywhere.

Chapter Ten – Lola

I woke to a raging headache. My eyelids were slow to open, a cold concrete ground under me. My head was still a little foggy, and I sat up and felt my face. My mask was still on. Something cold was on my wrists, and I looked down to see my wrists were bound in some kind of handcuffs. The handcuff chain was attached to another chain latched on the floor near my feet. I couldn’t move too much, and no matter how hard I tried to pull at the chains, I couldn’t break myself free. The most I’d be able to do was stand, but beyond that, I wouldn’t be able to take any further steps.

They were too tight. So tight that dislocating my thumb to get my hand through it wasn’t even possible. The metal had already started to bite into my wrists.

I reached into my jacket’s pockets, finding they’d been emptied, then my boots. No knives available to me anymore, which was great, and from what I could vaguely recall, I’d dropped my phone after being hit in the ass with a dart that had to have been full of drugs to knock me out.

Well, this night turned into a shit show, huh?

I looked around, not knowing where I was. Obviously no longer near the warehouses, because if I was, I didn’t doubt my men would’ve found me by now—and that meant I’d been taken to a secondary location. Again, great. Things just kept getting better and better.

I didn’t know where I was. The walls were made of cinderblocks, so my best guess was a basement somewhere. I didn’t know. A single lightbulb on the ceiling lit the place in an ugly yellow, no windows anywhere. The air chilled me to the bone. Nobody else was around.

Oh, come on. Let’s get this show on the road, already.

“Hey!” I called out. “I know you’re there! I don’t think you’d go through all this trouble to get me, bring me here, and then leave me—” My gaze landed on the only door out of the place. It was metal, but even with the shitty lighting, I could see that it had been scraped, like someone had taken something jagged to it over and over in a fit of madness.

And a peculiar feeling rose up within me, the same feeling I’d gotten when I’d stared out at the river. Didn’t some stupid detective guy say when you exhausted all possible explanations, look to the impossible? The idea that had occurred to me as I’d stood there gazing down at the current of the river had been one fucking impossible idea.

The sound of someone laboring down steps filled the air, the sound of metal scraping against something. It came from behind the door, and I struggled against my restraints. My wrists wouldn’t budge in the handcuffs, but the bolt in the ground keeping me in place wasn’t the strongest. If I pulled with all of my strength behind it, I might—

The door flew open, its metal hinges creaking the entire time. My gaze locked on the person standing there, his face covered in shadows. He walked with a gait, his shoulders uneven. A mess of brown hair sat on his head, unkempt to the extreme. He walked inside the room, stopping when he stood ten feet in front of me, his head slow to rise, and when I met those green eyes, I knew the uneasy feeling I’d felt before had been warranted.

My breath caught as I stared at his face.

“What?” he asked, sneering at me. “Didn’t you miss me?” His cheeks were gaunt, his skin having a yellow hue it most certainly didn’t before. His lungs labored with breath, his figure not very imposing—because it never had been.

But then my eyes dropped to his hands… or where his hands should’ve been. Like a macabre Captain Hook, he had two metal gauntlets fastened to his arms, right where his wrists ended, and each gauntlet had a single jagged knife protruding from it. No hands, just knives.

I was too speechless to say anything, my mouth agape as I stared at him. This was impossible. This… tell me I was dreaming, because there was no fucking way this was real. There was no goddamned way this was happening. The man standing before me should be dead—and yet he wasn’t. He looked half-dead, but he wasn’t fully there yet, and the hatred for me in the depths of those emerald eyes was palpable.

Ironic, considering what he’d done to me.

I tried to speak, but the shock had captured me and refused to let me go. My voice was strangled out of me, unable to be used. The only thing I could seem to do was stare at him in utter disbelief—because this surely couldn’t be happening.

This was comic book villain type shit. People didn’t just return from the dead. It didn’t fucking happen.

This was a dream, wasn’t it? I would close my eyes in a few moments and wake up in bed, with my heart pounding and my skin clammy. This had to be a nightmare. I’d only ever had nightmares of my brother and the things he’d do to me…  but seeing the man before me and the current state he was in, this had to be a new nightmare of mine.

He cocked his head at me, trying to straighten himself out and failing. He stood before me, towering over me only because he was on his feet and I was not. “You want to know how,” he growled out, his voice just like it had been on the tape, so low it crawled over me and elicited goosebumps on every inch of my flesh. “You want to know how I’m here right now, why I’m not dead.”

I stared at him. That’s about all I could do from my position on the floor. Stare at him and wonder what the hell was going on. He should be dead. The man before me should be dead. That’s why the possibility had never even occurred to me; this was fucking impossible.

“I should be,” he admitted. “I think I was, for a while.” He stared to say something else, but then his body was suddenly racked with a coughing fit. His top half bent over, and he brought one of his knifed wrists to his face, as if trying to cover his mouth. Old habits, I guess, since he didn’t have any hands to work with.

My thoughts were unstable and wild. The main thought in my head was: this is impossible. This is fucking impossible. Someone pinch me and wake me up from this bizarre nightmare.

Dead people didn’t come back to life. They didn’t swoop back into your life to show you they weren’t dead. Swooping. Was. Bad. Swooping was very bad in this case. Dead people should just stay dead, you know? Call me a naturalist. Call me cliché.

His coughing fit ended after a minute, and he sneered at me when he was done. “You and those assholes cut me up and threw me into the river.” He took a step closer to me. “I couldn’t swim. I could do nothing but let the water take me… and so I did. I wanted to die. Do you know what my last thoughts were? Do you want to know what I thought about before I closed my eyes and breathed in the water?”

For the first time, I was able to speak, “Not really, but I have the feeling you’re going to monologue, anyway.”

Bad guys always monologued. That was their thing, no matter what the situation was, or the genre. Fantasy, contemporary, TV shows, movies; bad guys were all alike. I guess I couldn’t blame them. When their big plans were coming to fruition, it was only natural to want to brag.

His lips curled into a smirk, and it was the furthest thing from handsome. To think, I used to think he wasn’t that bad looking. That was before the truth came out that he was working with Bianca, before I’d realized he’d gotten me to do his dirty work… before he’d taken advantage of me when I couldn’t fight him, when he’d told me some horrible news and I’d become a frozen doll, too locked up in my own head to pay attention to what he was doing to me.

Tony.

Tony had tried to be like my brother. It’s why I’d decided to take his hands from him when we’d finally found him. Or, rather, when Newton gave him to me as a gesture of good faith.

“Ah, your wit,” he muttered, the smirk falling off his face. “How I’ve missed it.” His glare hardened, and he went on, “I thought about the bitch who took my hands from me. I thought about getting my non-existent hands on her and making her regret every single fucking choice she’s ever made in her life.” He coughed once. “I imagined the screams you’d make when I got ahold of you.”

Oh, yes, I bet he’d had a lot of those thoughts, but, you know, with what he’d done, he should know I only gave him his just desserts. What he’d deserved. Tony had made many mistakes, and the biggest one had been wronging me.

“I don’t know why,” Tony whispered, narrowing those beady green eyes at me, “but he saved me. He was watching you, and he saved me.” He pointed one of his knives at me, and then at himself.

“Who?” I asked. At this point, I wanted to know who I had to thank for this shitty turn of events, who all those poor girls had to thank for their deaths and the true terror they’d felt before they’d died.

“This isn’t about him! It’s about me,” Tony spoke as he bared his teeth at me. “It’s about you. This is about us, Lola.” He lumbered toward me, and I didn’t move. I also didn’t follow him with my stare, letting him walk behind me.

He set one of his knives against my mask, dragging it up along the cheek part. An awful sound rose, metal scraping against metal, and I fought my urge to pull myself away from him. There was no use in fighting it… not yet. I’d wait until I saw an opening, and then I’d go for it. Right now, he was still monologuing.

Tony pulled his knife off my mask, continuing to walk around my slumped figure and stopping when he once again stood in front of me. “He got one of my hands, too. Tried to reattach it, but it was too late.” He let out a bitter sound. “Too waterlogged. My body didn’t take it back.”

So someone was watching us that night, and he’d taken it upon himself to get Tony from the river, along with one of his hands, and save him. Whoever he was, he must’ve worked fast, because even when we’d tossed Tony into the river, he’d been near death, having lost so much blood already.

But Tony said he did die, for a bit, which meant he’d drowned and this guy and… what? Given him CPR and brought him back? Cauterized his wounds after failing to save his hands? Given him back-alley blood transfusions? God. No wonder why he looked and sounded like such shit—he had to have gotten infected with something. Even now, he looked like a dead man walking.

“So now I’m stuck with these.” Tony held up the knives on the metal wrist clamps. Their jagged edges were a little rusty. Definitely not stainless steel, and based on how hideous the overall design was, including the straps keeping the gauntlets fashioned to his wrists, it wasn’t Fang’s design.

And, anyway, I doubted Fang would’ve done this. I liked to think the creepy cool dude with the sharp silver fangs in his mouth liked me a little, so he would’ve told me about it.

“Though, they’re not bad,” he said, hitting their dull sides together. “They’re pretty useful when you need to hold someone down. Turns out, these babies are better than hands. One stray movement and—” He made a clinching sound. “—that’s all it takes.”

Imagining those girls’ final moments was a lot easier, now that I had a face to the monster, now that I knew this monster had knives for hands. Edward Scissorhands would never do what Tony Bologna did to all those poor girls.

I shook my head at him. “I always knew there was something I didn’t like about you. How could you do that to those girls?”

Tony laughed, though the sound was interrupted by another coughing fit. “It was easy, actually. I just pretended they were you. When I looked down at them, I imagined I was looking down at you, and then I did everything I imagined doing to you.”

He was slow to kneel before me, still out of reach, sadly. “When they screamed, I imagined it was you. When they begged me to stop, I pictured the words coming out of that pretty mouth of yours.” His gaze dropped to my mask, which currently hid my mouth. “Don’t you see, Lola? All of those girls… they were you.”

The weight of each of those deaths had pushed me down lately, but hearing Tony say it aloud made it all worse. It was a good thing I was already on the ground, otherwise I might’ve let myself sink to the floor in desperation.

I was a monster, but Tony? Before me, he’d been the typical man, the kind of guy I’d go home with and kill in my Night Slayer days. He was a man who thought he could never do anything wrong, that he was owed sex. Hell, he probably didn’t think he did anything wrong in that office, after he’d told me that Bianca’s men had shot up the Dollhouse, where Roman and Carter’s girl worked. He would probably say that I’d consented to him just because I didn’t fight him on it.

Fuck. Some men really deserved a knife in the throat. Some men really did deserve to have their balls and their cocks sawed off so they could never be used again.

I’d known it before, but this served only as another reminder: men like Aiden weren’t the unusual. No. If anything, they were the norm. They were your brothers and your fathers and your uncles. They were your cousins and your neighbors and your bosses. They were everywhere, and they got away with their shit every single fucking day—and I was so tired of it.

Tired of it. Tired of them. Tired of the thought that their dicks were the supreme.

Society would call me a monster, but I would call myself a solution.

“Everything I did, I did for you,” Tony was busy saying. “All those girls, all those bodies… they were for you. Minus the one in the Gilded Rose. That one was for Newton.” His facial features darkened as he lowered his gaze to the floor, shadows covering his face. “After I’m done with you, I’m going to tie him up and make him watch me kill everyone he cares about. Then I’m going to catch Sylvester and Maddox and Viper—” He shrugged, once again staring at me. “—might as well get Big Mike, too.”

I shook my head once. “You’re insane, Tony. If you think you can do all that, you’re more insane than you look—and you should look at yourself in the mirror, because you look fucking crazy.”

He ignored me. “A part of me wants to keep you alive for it, make you watch, make you scream for me like I’ve dreamed about… but the other part of me just wants to let vengeance take over and kill you here and now.”

I’d wanted to die for so many years. Although my goal was always the electric chair or the lethal injection, any way out of this world would’ve been fine with me. If there was a gal with a death wish, she was me.

But now… so much had changed. So much was continuing to change, and I wanted to be around to see it. I didn’t want to leave my men. I didn’t want to die anymore. This life that I had was mine, and if Tony thought I would surrender to him and let him steal it from me, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Decisions, decisions,” I whispered, my voice muffled a little behind my mask. “Whatever will you do?” I moved my hands, resting them in my lap. My fingers clenched into fists, and I stared at Tony, unblinking.

Tony didn’t say anything to that. He only answered my stare with a glare of his own. Given that he looked half dead, like a comic book villain come to life, his stare was more evil than mine.

“It must be so hard being you,” I told him. “Even before all of this, you must’ve woken up each day and dreaded facing the world. Of course, you did. Why wouldn’t you, given the fact that your wee-wee is the size of my pinky?”

That got him to act, just as I knew it would. He let out a pissed off sound, and he was on me the next moment, pinning my body down by placing a knee just below my chest. My leather jacket fell open, most of my top half exposed to him. He pressed all his weight down upon me, my hands beneath his shin so I couldn’t stop him.

“Don’t you ever stop fucking talking?” Tony growled out, taking one of his knifed hands to my chin, below my mask. The tip of the blade dug into my skin, and with a quick movement, he hooked the sharp side of the knife under my mask and tore it off my face, leaving a trail of blood in its wake as the metal dragged over my chin and my cheek.

There was pain, I supposed, but I’d stopped feeling pain a long time ago.

The blade didn’t go deep on my face, but I could feel the blood pooling out of the cut seconds after. Tony smirked above me, baring his teeth in a hideous display of superiority. “No, you don’t. That’s the thing about you, Lola: you don’t know when to fucking stop. You always go harder than you should. I never understood why you were like that, but now I do.” He brought his right blade against my cheek, near the current cut, laying it flat against my skin. A threat that he’d cut me up more.

He could do it. I wouldn’t care. Cut me up. Scratch me up.

“I could ask you the same question,” I said, though I let out a groan when he put more pressure on the knee just below my tits. “But since you’re the bad guy now, I guess that gives you a pass for monologuing.”

Tony shook his head. “You always have to get the last word in, don’t you?”

I nodded. “I do, although with you… probably not.” I paused, taking in his sickly features, the yellow hue of his skin, the way his body was thinner than it had been before, back before his traitorous tendencies came to light. He might have knives for hands now, but he wasn’t strong. I could take him easily if I wasn’t restrained. “If you think I’m going to beg you to stop, if you think you’re going to make me scream, you should probably readjust your goals here.”

He bared his teeth like an animal, growling out his response as he moved his other knife to my neck, putting just enough pressure behind it to be uncomfortable. With one knee on my upper stomach and the other beside me, with one knife against my cheek and the other pressed against my neck, he had me exactly where he wanted me—and he looked like he wanted to kill me, an animal that had finally captured its prey.

And he could. He could very well kill me right now and end it all. My journey, my life, my redemption in the arms of my men. Not that I thought about redeeming myself, but… it was so nice to be loved. It really was. It was something I’d never really had before, not growing up, not while out on my own, not until I killed a Luciano son.

Tony and I were locked in a staring contest, neither one of us backing down or blinking. Hatred resided in his stare. I didn’t know what I looked like, and I didn’t care. The only thing I wanted right now was for Tony to not have his heart’s desire.

If he wanted me to scream, I wouldn’t. If he wanted me to beg, I sure as shit wouldn’t. If he wanted me to be filled with terror as he once again reminded me about how big of a man he was, he could fuck right off.

“Well, Tony?” I asked, smiling at him. My on-brand crazy smile that said in no uncertain terms: bring it. “Are we going to end this now, or what? Don’t you know it’s rude to keep a girl waiting?”

He frowned at me, baring his teeth, trying to prove he was some alpha male who could instill fear—but that’s the thing. He wasn’t. Not in me, anyway. He might’ve made all those girls fearful before he’d killed them, but regardless of how much he’d imagined it, I was not those girls and they were not me.

It was funny; I could see it change, the moment he realized he wasn’t going to get what he wanted from me, that I wasn’t going to scream or beg him to stop. It was a subtle change in his demeanor, a realization dawning behind the sneer, but I noticed it.

I’d played his game before, but I wasn’t going to play it now.

“I hope you said goodbye,” Tony whispered, “because this face of mine is the last thing you’ll ever see.”

“Ew,” I deadpanned. “You got the better end of this deal, even with those knife hands.”

That got his jaw to grind and the pressure on my neck to increase. He was seconds from slicing my throat when the sounds of gunshots upstairs pierced the air. Tony clearly wasn’t expecting that, because he froze, the blade lessening its pressure just a hair… just enough to tell me he was distracted.

It’s all the distraction I needed. I couldn’t move most of my body; my hands were still cuffed, my right hand caught beneath his knee thanks to where it was placed on me. But my left? With the chain still attached, my left hand could move enough, and that’s all I’d need.

I brought my left hand up as hard as I could, hitting him right in the balls. Tony hadn’t expected that, and as he lost his balance and let out a groan of pain, I hit him again in the same place. It wasn’t that hard, considering, but it was hard enough to get him to roll off me and squeeze his legs together.

More gunshots upstairs, but I couldn’t pay attention to anything that was going on upstairs, too focused on Tony and the fact that I was still restrained and he still had those knife hands. He might be down right now, but as soon as he gathered himself, he’d pop right back up like a daisy after the coldest winter.

I pushed myself up and crawled on top of Tony before he could get ahold of himself fully. The man was still too busy with his ball pain, and I used that to my advantage. I curled around him like a spider monkey, wrapping the chain between my handcuffs around his neck and pulling with all my might, choking the motherfucker.

Another three shots rang out upstairs, but all I could hear was the grunting Tony did, the straining he did beneath the chain around his neck. I arched my back away from him, my legs wrapped around his torso, and I pulled. I pulled as hard as I fucking could, wanting to pop his head off his body like the worst zit ever.

But by doing that, I gave him other pain to focus on. His ball pain forgotten, he sprang to life, suddenly quite lively for a half-dead guy. He lifted one of his knife hands up, trying to stab my chest over his shoulder, but I’d arched my top half too far back; he couldn’t reach. Since he couldn’t reach, he went at me from another angle.

His other arm twisted back, the knife attached coming at me in a place I couldn’t dodge due to the fact my legs were wrapped around him.

Remember when I said I didn’t feel pain anymore? Yeah, that might’ve been a lie. I should’ve said I didn’t feel small bits of pain anymore, because this… yeah, let’s just say I felt it. I felt it and I had to let go of him when I did.

Splitting, searing hot agony coursed through me from my side, where Tony had stuck me with his left knife. Right in the side, in the gut. Everything in me felt like it was burning, and I gasped and wheezed, the chain loosening around his neck enough for him to lift my arms up and over his head. With an elbow to the chest, he pushed me back, and I fell to the floor, my eyes staring daggers at the ceiling.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Those words were on repeat in my head as the pain flooded me. I pressed my hands against my side, where he’d stabbed me, trying to staunch the blood floor. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do much of anything, because with each breath I took, my insides were on fire. My lungs, my gut, even my skin. It was like my body was pissed at me for the agony it currently endured, and there was nothing I could do to make myself feel better.

Tony lumbered to his feet, standing over me. He breathed hard too, his chest rising and falling with uneven, haggard breaths. His neck was already red and bruised from my attack, but the motherfucker wasn’t dead yet.

“You fucking bitch,” Tony hissed out, sounding pained. Didn’t know why; he wasn’t the one with a fucking hole on his side. Sure, his balls might’ve gotten hit a few times and his throat might’ve been choked, but all things considered, he was still doing better than me.

He stepped over me, standing above my body. His shoulders rose and fell, the fury in his eyes palpable. He hated me above anything else, as I supposed a lot of men would, if they knew what I liked doing to their kind.

Filthy, disgusting, horrible men. If anyone deserved to be chained up and dying, it was him, not me.

He knelt down, bringing his bladed hands with him and resting one on either side of my neck. The blades were angled, crossing just above the skin on my throat. He was going to kill me, decapitate me like he’d grown so fond of doing.

“Goodbye, Night Slayer,” he hissed out, the muscles in his arms tensing.

I was so focused on my imminent death and what was coming that I neglected to hear someone bounding down the steps and throwing open the door, so focused on Tony above me and those metal blades arched around my throat that I didn’t even hear it.

The gunshot.

Just one. Tony’s body froze, his eyes widening. His head glanced down, and that was when I let my eyes fall to his chest, too. A dark wet spot had blossomed in his chest. His shirt was black, so you couldn’t see the color, but I knew what it was even before it started to drip onto me: blood.

Those green eyes of his lifted to my face once again, and I knew it then. Even though he was dying, he’d take me out with him. The knives around my throat constricted, starting to dig into my skin, but another shot rang out—this one I heard. This one split the air like a siren, and it ended with a bright red splatter. Outward from Tony’s head, warm gooey brain matter exploded onto me.

He couldn’t continue to tighten those blades around my neck because he was dead.

Tony’s figure slumped over me, and I couldn’t even push him off me because I had to keep pressure on my side—although that grew harder and harder as the seconds passed due to how much pain was traveling through my system. My vision had started to blur.

Someone ran up to us and carefully pulled Tony’s body off me, helping the knifed hands up and around my neck so they wouldn’t injure me further. The disfigured body slumped to the side and I could finally see the face of my savior. Relatively, past the blurriness, that was.

And the face that I saw? It wasn’t the one I expected to see. I’d thought, somehow, Sylvester was here. Or Maddox. Or Viper. Even Big Mike. One of my guys, here to save the day, here to save me from certain death.

But it wasn’t one of them. It was someone else, someone I’d doubted recently.

“Harvey,” I whispered his name, my voice trembling on its own. I lifted a hand, bringing it to his face and smearing some of my blood on his cheek in the process. Oops.

“Shh,” he said, applying more pressure to the wound on my side than I could by myself. He was stronger than he looked. His gray eyes seemed sad, almost, totally unconcerned about the bright red blood I’d smeared on his cheek. His gun rested on the ground beside me, its clip empty, from what it looked like.

“How…” I couldn’t finish the question. Each word was like a knife coming up my throat, digging into my esophagus as it went, creating more pain for me to face. Pain. It always came to pain and blood. When would it ever be enough? When would I have enough? When would death take me, whether I wanted it to or not?

“Sylvester called me,” Harvey told me, eyes on me as he kept up the pressure. He had some blood splattered on him, on his clothes and on his face, blood I hadn’t gotten on him myself. My guess was from his shootout upstairs. How many men had he killed to get down here? “He pulled me off Newton for the night and told me to follow you.”

I was still too shocked at this whole turn of events to question him further. That, or I was getting woozy from the pain and what blood I’d lost. My stomach burned like it was on literal fire, and each breath I took only served to stoke the flames of agony inside.

If this was what it felt like to die, then I couldn’t blame anyone for giving in. This was the worst pain I’d ever been in, hands down. Worse than anything my brother had done to me. Worse than the doctor and his sterilization. My body had been sore afterward, but my parents had kept me hopped up on pain meds.

This… this was so much worse.

Keeping hold on my wound with one hand, Harvey pulled out his phone with his other, dialing. “Sylvester?” he spoke into the line after a moment. “Yeah, I got her. She’s been stabbed. She’s losing blood here, but I’m doing what I can. She needs a doctor.” He nodded to whatever Sylvester was saying.

When he hung up, he set his phone down. To me, he said, “Keep pressure on it, Lola. Can you do that?” His voice was so soft, so kind… and yet he was a killer too, just like me. Just like my men. How could he act so awkward and so nice and yet still be a killer?

He worked on taking off his shirt, and within another moment, he was lifting me up and tying the shirt around my midsection. He moved my hands so he could tie it like a tourniquet around me, as tight as he could make it.

“I need to go upstairs and get one of their guns to free you from the floor. Mine is out,” he told me. “I’ll be right back.”

My breath was short. “Don’t—” I couldn’t say anything else. Even then, my voice hardly came out, like it was a pain to speak. And, I guess it was. My entire body was filled to the brim with pain; I never knew being alive could hurt so much. Would it really be so awful to die?

“I’ll be back, Lola.” That was all he said to me, but I could tell he meant it.

I fought to stay conscious while he disappeared, focusing on the single lightbulb in this basement space, the smell of blood in the air. If I wasn’t so injured, I’d be throwing a little party right now, dancing in Tony’s blood. I’d be stripping off my clothes and rolling around in it, waiting until my guys got here… and then we’d have a good, old-fashioned orgy. Yeah, I could go for one of those right now.

Harvey returned, another gun in his hand. He aimed it at the chain bolted to the ground, firing once. The bullet split the chain from the bolt with a loud thud. My ears rang… or maybe they were ringing before. I couldn’t remember.

“Come on,” he said. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

With his help, I got to my feet. I had to lean heavily on him, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders to keep me steady. If it wasn’t for him, there was no fucking way I’d be on my own two feet right now, not with how lightheaded I was and with how hazy my vision was.

“My mask,” I said, trying to pull away from him the moment we started to head to the door. My mask lay on the floor near Tony’s crumpled body, its silvery appearance dull in the basement light. Or maybe that was just because my eyes were struggling to work.

“Someone will get it,” Harvey said. “They’re on their way here, but we’re not going to wait for them. You need to see a doctor ASAP.” Everything he said was logical, but as he helped me out of the room and up the stairs, all I could think about was my mask.

My mask. I had to get it. I couldn’t leave it behind. My mask was me.

But Harvey was unrelenting, the jerk. He refused to turn around for it, no matter what I said. I barely registered all the bodies we passed as we came up into what looked like a dingy, run-down house. I was still too zeroed in on that fucking mask.

He got me in the car, and my head lolled around. He buckled me in and then hurried to get in the driver’s seat. My head rolled to face him, and I could feel my breathing slowing down. Everything had become a struggle.

“Harvey,” I managed to whisper his name as he got us out of the driveway and onto the road. My lips parted, the rest of what I was going to say dying in the back of my throat. No other words came out, and the next time I closed my eyes, I didn’t open them again.

Chapter Eleven – Viper

My brother and I were pinned down a lot longer than we should’ve been, but that’s because the assholes were coming at us from more than one direction. We were just outside the warehouse district, off the main road in the opposite direction Sylvester was. Maddox was near the front street that weaved through the warehouses, and he saw some van pull up.

But Mike and I were a little busy having a shootout to pay attention to any texts or calls we got.

We hadn’t been in an actual shootout since the Bloody Princess’s men came at us in our apartment, back when everything was different. Mike had gotten shot, badly, too. I couldn’t lie; I was worried as Mike and I hid behind a dumpster. Very worried. We’d gotten lucky once, but would we get lucky again?

Mike was near the wall of the building the dumpster was against; I had the better side to lean around and shoot from, and so I emptied my clip faster than I should’ve. Hit two of the fuckers, but not all of them. By my count, there were still two more.

Whatever this was, it was a bigger operation than we thought.

Mike handed me his gun when he saw my clip was empty, and I threw him a look that asked him what the hell he was doing. “Take it,” he grunted out. “I’m going around the building to try to get them from behind. I can take one out, at least, and when I do, you can get a better shot at the other while they’re focused on me.”

“No, if anyone should be a distraction, it should be me,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I liked the idea to begin with.

“I’m bigger,” he reminded me, as if either of us needed that reminder. “I can pin one down easily. You, on the other hand…” He trailed off, knowing his point was already made. He was a lot taller than me. A lot bigger all around. He had been for years.

I took his pistol, even though I didn’t want to. He said not another word as he took off in a crouching run, moving away from me and around the corner of the building. The moon sat in the sky, but the building we were near blocked it out. I didn’t know how long it would take him to make it around the building, and I checked the clip to see how many bullets he had left.

Less than half the clip. Had to make it count.

The ones shooting at me didn’t have pistols. They had automatic rifles, something that could shoot a bullet or more a second, though they weren’t shooting now, probably because I’d been hiding behind this dumpster for so long. I was thankful it was full of trash, otherwise… otherwise, some of those bullets might’ve pierced through the metal and got me.

I needed to keep their attention on me. So, I waited a few more moments and then leaned out of my cover, aiming towards the pair of men crouched near the old car they’d driven up in. I shot off one bullet, and that got them going again. I quickly returned to cover, trying to listen above the shots for any hint of my brother making his move on them while they were busy shooting at me.

The seconds felt more like hours, time acting stupid. I didn’t know how much time passed before I heard one of the guys shout, “Shit—” But he and his pal had stopped shooting at me, so I didn’t hesitate.

I leaped out of cover, got to my feet, and aimed for them. It was a lot easier to aim when you weren’t busy trying to duck from a hail of bullets. My brother had crept around the building and grabbed hold of the nearest man, knocking his gun to the ground and holding his arms back in a wrestling-like move, which had caused the other man to whirl and aim at him. But his buddy was in the way, struggling all the while, so he couldn’t get a clear shot at my brother.

I used that to my advantage. I pulled the trigger, and my aim was true. A single bullet shot from my pistol, traveled through the air, and collided with the other man’s chest, taking him down.

As he fell to the ground, crying out, Mike moved fast; he let go of the man’s arms and gripped the top of his head and his jaw. With a sharp jerk of his arms, he snapped the guy’s neck, and he fell to the ground, deader than dead. He picked up the dropped assault rifle and was on the other man within another second. By the time I reached them, my brother had put a bullet into the second man’s head, killing him for good.

Mike frowned in the darkness, staring at the corpses all around us, all the bullet casings on the ground. Even in the shadows, it was pretty grisly. I’d take this over what happened at our apartment any day, though.

I checked my phone, finding a whole host of missed messages in the group chat. Sylvester was pinned down, as was Maddox. Looked like Mike and I were the first to get free of whoever these assholes were.

My first thought was getting to Lola and making sure she was safe, but I couldn’t let Sylvester or Maddox die, either. The Milanos owed them a debt that extended beyond Mike and me.

Shit. What were we supposed to do?

I looked at my brother. “Looks like someone grabbed Lola, but Maddox and Sylvester are pinned down.”

Mike thought on it, leaning the assault rifle over his shoulder. “If they went through all this trouble just to get her, they’re not going to kill her right away. They’ll take their time. We’ll help the Lucianos, and then we’ll get your girl.” Though the situation was dire, he spoke with such a level head, I had to be in awe of him.

You’d think, after almost dying before, he’d be more unnerved at the current situation, but he wasn’t. I had to hand it to him.

So that’s what we did. We found Maddox first, crouching behind an old shipping container at the entrance of the warehouse district, three men on him. Since he was alone, it didn’t look like he could do much else besides take cover and peek over that cover every few seconds to get a read on his enemies—and any time he did that, he was met with a spray of bullets.

These guys… there were a lot of them. They were organized, but not to the extent that they were trained. I had no idea who they could be, but that’d be a question for later.

Mike and I arrived, saving the day. Er, the night? Whatever. We rushed in, both of us wielding assault weapons we’d picked off the corpses of the men who’d tried to take us, and we made short work of them since they weren’t expecting us.

Once he was clear, Maddox got out of his cover. I couldn’t see much since it was so dark, but I could see the low grimace on his face and the way he rolled his left arm. If I had to guess, I’d say he’d gotten hit.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, one of the fuckers grazed me, but I’ll be fine,” Maddox replied, his scowl turning to me. “A van pulled out not long ago—if I had to guess, they’re taking Lola somewhere.” He moved to stand beside a corpse, and he kicked the dead guy in the side. “That’s for shooting me, you motherfucker.”

Shit. Where could they be taking her? Odds were my brother was right, and whoever was behind all of this wanted her alive, but for how long? How long did we have to find her before he made his mark on her? Lola could take care of herself, but if she was tied up, she was just as helpless as anyone else.

Shots rang out in the distance, and we didn’t hesitate; we headed toward them. Sylvester still needed our help, and once he was safe, we could work on getting Lola back and ending this fucking thing once and for all.

Sylvester was the opposite way we were; we’d fanned out into a triangle of sorts, with Maddox at the tip, at the front of the abandoned warehouses. Whoever was behind this obviously knew to expect us even though he’d told Lola to come alone; he knew us, knew how we operated. That much had been clear before, but tonight really made it clear. And yet, with that said, I still didn’t know who this fucker was.

After rushing down the sidewalk like a mini-army, we came upon a parked car, where three men had Sylvester cornered. They heard us coming, but by the time they’d turned their weapons to us, we’d already sent a wave of fire their way. Bullets hit them and their vehicle, spraying the night with steel shrapnel and blood.

Maddox was the first to push past them, hopping over the hood of their car as he sprinted to Sylvester’s. Sylvester had backed up, from the look of it, the entire front end of his vehicle riddled with bullet holes.

Mike and I were seconds behind Maddox when we saw Sylvester straighten up in the car; he’d been hunched over, ducking behind the center console and using all the metal in the hood and the engine to shield himself.

His gun rested in one hand, while his other clutched his phone, the screen still on. He wiped at his forehead as he got out of the shredded car, giving us a nod. “I told you to go for Lola,” he growled out. He shoved a finger at Maddox’s chest, adding, “You’re lucky I had a backup plan.”

A backup plan? My brother and I exchanged glances, neither of us having no idea what he was talking about.

Sylvester checked his phone. Maddox didn’t say anything to that, but I couldn’t stand being in the dark, so I spoke up, “What backup plan? What the fuck, Sylvester?”

“I had the feeling I’d need to keep tabs on Lola. I just didn’t think it’d be for something like this…” He shook his head, and then he typed something into his phone—a message to someone, and based on the fact that he wasn’t texting any of us, I knew he hadn’t shared the entire plan with us. “The necklace I got her has a tracking device in it, like—”

“The one you had us put on Harvey’s car,” I finished, miffed that I hadn’t figured it out sooner.

“Yeah,” Sylvester admitted. “While we were all busy getting shot at, I contacted our buddy Harvey and sent him the tracking info. He’s right behind her. Looks like they took her to some house on the other side of the city.”

Shit. Had those assholes distracted us with gunfire for that long? Goddamn it. It didn’t feel like it was that long, but in the heat of the moment, time tended to pass quicker than you thought.

Sylvester glanced at each of us. “How many bodies we got?” He listened to my and Mike’s body count, and then Maddox’s. “I need to stay here, deal with them. Maddox, you’re with me. Viper, Big Mike, I’m sending you after Harvey. Who knows what he’ll encounter in that house—”

“Bullshit,” Maddox interrupted. “Fuck the bodies. We go after Lola.”

Sylvester took an aggressive step toward his brother. “Don’t you think I want to go rushing after her, too? We’ve got just short of ten bodies to clean up, and if the cops come, someone needs to be here to deal with them. Even with you and me staying, I’ll need to call in some help for the cleanup.”

Maddox quietly continued to snarl, not liking the situation, but no longer arguing with his brother.

“I’ll text you guys the address,” Sylvester said. “Now get the fuck out of here.” He got on the phone shortly after, and Mike and I didn’t stick around to find out who he was calling for help.

Mike and I hurried away, back to our car. Thankfully, our car hadn’t seen as many bullets as Sylvester’s; she’d been parked a ways away from the gunfight. As I got into the driver’s seat, my phone dinged, and I checked it. “We got the address,” I told Mike.

“Then let’s go get your girl,” my brother said, the assault rifle resting on his lap.

I didn’t know if I’d ever felt so tense in my life. So distraught. So worried about someone else. When Mike had gotten shot, yeah, that came close—but this was a different feeling. He was my brother, but Lola was my girl. You just couldn’t compare the two.

I took us through downtown, the shortest way to our destination. At such a late hour, the streets were pretty much empty, though the sidewalks downtown were anything but. Full of people drinking and clubbing, going place to place, citizens who were totally unaware of what had gone down tonight.

I think we were five minutes away when my phone rang, and I picked it up, seeing Sylvester’s name on it. I didn’t get the chance to say anything, Sylvester skipping the greeting and getting straight to business: “Harvey got her. He’s taking her to the hospital. I want you two to stay at the house, in case anyone else gets there. I want anyone associated with this killer dead tonight. I’m sending Roman and Carter your way, too.”

As much as I wanted to tell him that we would not stay in the house, that we would go to the hospital with Lola and be there for her, I also knew there was no arguing about it. And, besides that, I couldn’t fight the flood of relief that filled me when I heard that. “Understood,” I said, and then I hung up.

“Well?” Mike asked.

“Harvey got to her. He’s taking her to the hospital, but Sylvester wants us to stay at the house in case there are more. Anyone we see, he wants dead. Roman and Carter are on their way.” My grip on the steering wheel lessened, and I forced myself to let out a sigh to try to calm myself down.

Tonight had spiraled out of control. We underestimated this killer. This whole time… he wasn’t working alone. Based on the arrangement of bodies we’d discovered in the warehouse, we should’ve known.

Mike was quiet for a while. “That means she’s hurt. He wouldn’t take her to the hospital for no reason.” He turned his head toward me, the expression on his face one of consideration. “We’ll do what we need to at the house, and then we’ll head to the hospital.”

She had to be hurt. He was right about that. Still, if she was hurt, she was alive, and if there was one thing Lola was, it was a fighter. She wouldn’t go down easy; her spirit was the strongest out of all of us, I think.

The street the house was on was dark. No streetlights at all, nothing but the moon overhead. A run-down area of the city if I ever saw one. Cars sat on the street, some of them missing their rims and tires. Trash littered the sidewalks. I pulled into the short driveway of the house, and together, Mike and I got out, guns in hand.

The front door sat open. I was the first to reach it, pushing inside and lifting my purloined assault rifle, aiming it at whatever was in front of me. Mike’s back was to me, and he did the same in the opposite direction as we entered the house. All the lights were off, but we rectified that once we were sure we were alone.

I went to pull the curtains closed—though they were holey and didn’t hide much from the outside world, while Mike surveyed the area that was the living room. No couches, but there was a card table, along with a few knocked-over chairs.

And bodies. Three of them, to be exact. All slumped over, their faces stained with blood, their eyes still open. Two were shot in the head, while the third was shot in the chest. One of them had been caught from behind, while the two that had seen Harvey coming had tried to go for their weapons… too slowly, since they were dead now.

“Damn,” I whispered, appraising Harvey in a new light even though he wasn’t here. The guy could kill. Who knew?

Mike disappeared, going to check the rest of the house. “There are two more bodies in the kitchen, one near the door to the basement.” He stood in the hall, looking at me. “One guess as to where they were keeping Lola.”

I trailed after Mike, and together, we headed down into the basement. What we saw made my stomach churn, for more than one reason.

First was the chain on the floor, like he’d anticipated having Lola here for an extended period of time. No windows in the basement, and only a single light hanging from the ceiling. The chain was bolted to the floor, evidence of what had been there before Harvey had arrived. A big pool of blood sat near it, staining the concrete floor.

The blood was the next thing I focused on, merely due to the fact that something deep inside told me it belonged to Lola. A sinking feeling rose within me, a kernel of doubt. What if Lola wasn’t okay? What if Harvey brought her to the hospital, but she still didn’t make it? It wasn’t a lot of blood, not pints, but it was enough to tell me she’d been severely injured here.

Fuck.

And, lastly, the final thing that drew my attention in the room was the body not far from the bloodstain. It lay near Lola’s forgotten mask, unmoving, nothing more than another corpse—only this one wasn’t complete. This one had knives for hands, and that told me this motherfucker was our serial killer.

“Look,” Mike said, sinking to his knees as he pulled the body onto its back, revealing his face to me.

“Shit,” I whispered, staring at the familiar face of someone I’d marked off as dead a long time ago, because he should’ve been. He’d lost a hell of a lot of blood when Lola had cut off his hands and we’d tossed him into the river.

How the fuck was Tony here? How did he get here? There was no fucking way he’d survived that night on his own.

“Tony Torio,” my brother mumbled, slow to stand. “Looks like he’s our guy. Sylvester’s not going to believe this.”

“I don’t fucking believe it, and I’m right here looking at him,” I muttered. Meeting my brother’s stare, I added, “Go upstairs, wait for Roman and Carter. If you see anyone else pull up, shout. I’m going to call Sylvester and tell him.”

Mike didn’t say anything else, giving me a short nod before exiting the basement room and heading up the stairs. I couldn’t take my eyes off the corpse, off Tony. His skin was pale, but I credited that to the current state of him: dead. Even if he was alive and moving, I bet he didn’t look healthy. I bet he’d looked like a dead man walking until death finally took him for good. All of this was because of him. He’d lived his days on borrowed time.

I dialed Sylvester. He picked up on the second ring. “Viper,” he said. “Status?”

“Everyone in the house is dead,” I said. “Harvey took care of them… along with our killer.” I frowned as I spoke, as I stared down at Tony’s body. It was the weirdest thing, an out of body experience; this didn’t feel real.

“Who is he?”

“Someone we all know,” I said. “A man who had it out for Lola, since she took his hands away.”

Sylvester was silent for only a moment before he said, “What? What are you… you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?” To describe his voice as incredulous would be the year’s biggest understatement. It sounded like he was seconds from accusing me of lying.

“Once you take care of everything where you are, come here and see for yourself,” I said. “But it’s him. I’m looking at him right now. He’s got knives where his hands should be.”

The state of the bodies we’d found, of Tony’s victims, made sense now. His method of murder, the reason behind it… this man had died and come back to life as a monster, all because of his ambition, because he’d sold his soul to the devil herself, to Bianca DeLuca.

He’d sold his soul to the wrong devil.

“Knives for hands? What the fuck—” It sounded like Sylvester relayed the information to Maddox, who in turn pretty much repeated the what the fuck question. “Are we sure he’s dead this time?”

My eyes stared at the bright red spot in the center of his forehead, the bullet hole that had taken his life for good. “Yeah, he’s dead.” Ain’t nobody coming back from a hole in the skull, not straight-on like that.

“I got word from Harvey,” Sylvester said, changing the subject off our killer. “Lola needs surgery. Cops will be there, asking about the chains. I need you and your brother there to answer any questions. Remind any cop you work for me and that Lola is mine.”

Ours, but now wasn’t the time to bicker. I understood what he was saying.

“Wait until Roman and Carter get there, though. Like I said, if there’s any more of these assholes, I want them dead,” Sylvester finished.

“Yes, sir.” I hung up the phone, and even though a part of me wanted to stay down there and continue staring at Tony’s lifeless corpse, I pulled myself away from his body and went up the stairs after grabbing Lola’s mask, meeting my brother near the front door. The house wasn’t overly large; considering how many corpses filled the square footage, it was pretty cramped.

I relayed everything to him, and then we waited. All this waiting around was torture enough, but I knew we’d only wait more once we got to the hospital.

“Well, at least it’s over, right?” I didn’t know why I said it, but the look my brother gave me after I asked told me something I didn't want to think about: it wasn’t over. I wasn’t the brains behind anything, but even I knew the men we’d encountered tonight, the ones that were here, dead… none were the mastermind.

And I highly doubted Tony himself was the mastermind.

Time would reveal all. Hopefully.

Chapter Twelve – Lola

I stood in front of a tall mirror, staring at myself in its reflection. My blond hair was done in a loose French braid, off my left shoulder. Not an ounce of makeup was on my face, and yet my skin was flawless. I wore a long dress, its fabric flowing and a pure, bright white. It had no sleeves, strapless, yet it clung to my tits perfectly. It hid all the scars on my body, making me look like an angel.

But that’s the thing: I wasn’t. I hadn’t been an angel for a long, long time. Everything in my head was fuzzy, and I couldn’t remember why that was, but I knew it for a fact.

“Lola,” a girl’s voice called out for me, pulling me away from the mirror and my reflection. “They’re waiting for you downstairs.” In the mirror, I saw her face, and my gut reminded me of her name: Tina.

When I finished turning, I saw it wasn’t a girl anymore. Instead, a man stood there, smiling at me, his green eyes sparkling with a mischievous energy. He wore a tight, black button-down shirt, its sleeves rolled down all the way to his wrists, where two hands sat, loose. His brown hair was a bit messy.

“Come on,” he said, extending his hand to me, as if he was meant to escort me downstairs, as if I didn’t know how to navigate my parents’ house. But I didn’t move to take that hand, staring at it like I didn’t trust it, or him. “What?” he asked, smirking. “Never seen a dead man walking before?”

Dead man.

I blinked, and suddenly his face was splattered in blood, a hole of maroon on his forehead, right between his eyes. A bullet hole. From that hole oozed fresh blood, traveling down his nose and along his mouth, all the way to his chin, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I don’t want to go,” I said, staying put.

“You have to,” Tony told me, still smirking as he cocked his head at me, his hand still extended. “You’re the guest of honor. We’d be nothing without you.”

An invisible force touched me, forced me to go to him. Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I slipped my hand into his. He must’ve been bleeding somewhere else, because every inch of his hand and fingers were coated in blood. He pulled me along, out of my bedroom and down the hall.

I turned my head to look at the pictures on the wall, the ones we walked by. Pictures of young, pretty girls smiling stared back at me. I didn’t know their names, but they looked so happy. So free. I didn’t remember the pictures in the hall being like this before, but then again, I couldn’t remember much.

We made it to the top of the grand staircase, and I stopped, pausing to throw a look over my shoulder at the hall. When I did, each picture on the wall changed, morphing into ones of horror. Every girl had her throat cut. Every picture had become one of pure terror.

Again, Tony urged me along, pulling me down the stairs. “They’re all waiting for you,” he reminded me. “We can’t start without you.”

Start what? I wanted to ask, but a lump had formed in my throat. I couldn’t speak. The only thing I could do was let Tony bring me downstairs, as if he knew the way better than me.

Tony released my hand after bringing me into the room my mother liked to use as a sitting room. A parlor where she and her rich friends could have tea and gossip, no men allowed. Except, here and now, the room had many men, Tony being the newest.

My mother and father stood behind a couch whose flowered fabric was a pattern or two away from gaudy. My father wore a suit, but his chest was thick with blood, all wet from its freshness. My mother’s blond hair was much like mine, except it was in an updo, all curls. Her throat was cut deeply, from ear to ear, blood oozing out of the wound at a steady pace, yet she still smiled at me.

Another woman sat on the couch near them, grinning at me. Must’ve been hard, because she had no skin on her throat. A good portion of it was gone, the tendons and musculature revealed to the world as she sat there. Her name flashed in my head: Bianca.

Tony went to sit next to her, and just like that, his hands were no more. They were nothing but bloody stumps, bleeding all over the place.

I couldn’t move. All of their eyes were on me, and I couldn’t move a muscle. A normal person would feel bad, guilty or regretful towards the people staring at me. The wounds they carried were of my design, and yet…

Someone’s hot breath crept along the back of my neck. A gut feeling told me that breath belonged to the one person that was missing from the bloody scene before me. “Don’t you look stunning,” a deep voice spoke behind me, the owner of the breath. It sounded like he was right there, inches away from me but not yet touching me.

I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. I was frozen where I was, unmovable, feeling so very naked in this ugly white dress.

“So pure in that white, like an angel,” he went on—and then, because he could never resist for long, his hands found my arms, fingertips dancing up along the skin, stopping when they reached my shoulders, which those hands then curled around tightly. “But we both know the truth, don’t we?”

No words came from me. I couldn’t speak, too busy trying to fight the nausea threatening to rise up inside of me at the sound of my brother’s voice.

My brother. Aiden. Because it always came back to that asshole. My parents had a hand in the making of the monster I was today, but Aiden had taken the lead. If Aiden hadn’t been so… handsy with me, I would’ve just been a cliched stereotype, a rich girl with parents who knew what was best for her. Alas, I wasn’t so lucky.

“You’re no angel,” Aiden whispered behind me. “You’re the furthest thing from it, Lola. Everything you are, everything you try to be… you can’t fight it. You can’t fight us. We are you, dear sister.”

I wanted to argue with him, to pull myself away from those hands and that tight grip, and yet the only thing I could do was move my gaze along the crew before me, stare at each of their wounds—all inflicted by yours truly.

Seeing my handiwork like this, all together, made it feel more real. I’d tried to rid the world of their lives, tried to get rid of the stain they’d left in their wake… but it was all for nothing, because some things could never truly heal.

Myself included, because try and try as I might to act normal, to be a better person, to be the girl my lovers wanted me to be… I wasn’t her. I could never be her. I was no hero.

I was the monster in the night the darkness itself feared. I was the leveling of the playing field. I was everything these people had molded me to be, a slave to the dark desires within me that only wanted vengeance.

Finally, I found my voice, and it trembled as I whispered, “I don’t want you to be me.” At that, the hands holding onto my shoulders let go, and Aiden was slow to walk around me, standing a foot in front of me, smiling down at me even though his insides were literally falling out. But I didn’t pay much attention to his guts, too focused on those bright, blue eyes, eyes a mirror of mine.

“I don’t want to be like you,” I whispered out, hating that smirk, wishing I could wipe it off his face. “I don’t want this.” All those times I’d wished I was a normal girl… someone whose innocence hadn’t been forcibly torn from her, all those times I wished life could’ve gone normally. I’d lost track of how many nights I’d spent hating myself.

I thought I was past that point in my life. I thought I’d moved on, now that I had Sylvester, Maddox, and Viper. But, I guess, that’s the point. Sometimes you could never move on. Sometimes life left a giant wound upon your mind; the wound itself would heal, but the scar would not. It would forever remain where it was, a constant reminder of where it came from.

And me? Everything in me, every inch of my body was a scar.

“You don’t have a choice,” Aiden spoke, reaching inside himself—like, literally up inside the gaping maw of gore on his chest and stomach. The sounds of slick, slimy movement entered my ears, but I was rooted in place, waiting to see what he was searching for inside of himself.

He must’ve found it shortly after, because with a harsh yank of his arm, he pulled something out of himself. He held it between us. All red and oozing—still beating, too. His heart sat in his hand, working even though it wasn’t attached to anything.

I said not a single word as I lifted a hand, turning my palm up, fingers flattening. Aiden set his heart on my palm, stepping backward to the couch, where the others still were, watching me with heavy, knowing expressions.

The mere fact that a human heart sat in my hand should be enough. I should have an icky feeling. I should want to drop it… but I didn’t. No, the only thing I could do was stare at the heart and wonder why it still beat.

A sharp, sudden pain erupted in my gut, making me jerk back so abruptly I lost grip of the heart. It slipped off my hand, tumbling to the floor, bouncing once and splattering everything nearby with bright red. I looked down, finding a blossoming wound in my stomach. Blood had started to seep through the white fabric of the dress.

The last thing I saw was the look on my brother’s face, and it said only one thing.

I told you so.

My eyelids opened, and thank fucking God, I was no longer stuck in that dream. Instead of being surrounded by people I’d killed while stuck in my parents’ house, I was somewhere else. A hospital room, I think? I heard beeps and clicks of machines, and the room around me had not an ounce of personality, other than the hideously floral-patterned chairs near my bed.

Everything felt hazy. My eyes didn’t want to stay open. I thought about calling for a nurse, but then I’d have to talk, and that just seemed like an impossible feat right now. So, I let my eyes do what they wanted. They shut again, and I dozed off.

This time, I didn’t have any weird dreams. I should be thankful for that, because seeing my parents and Aiden again was a hard no-thanks.

The next time I opened my eyes, I wasn’t alone in the room. The very second my eyelids lifted, I was greeted by someone squeezing my hand—Sylvester. He must’ve been holding my hand while I slept, the freak.

“Lola,” he whispered, sitting in one of those ugly chairs. He’d pulled it closer to the bed, his blue gaze intent on me. He looked like he always did: ridiculously handsome, even in the suit he wore. His blond hair did look a little greasy, but I didn’t mind. It meant he’d probably been here, for who knew how long, waiting for me to wake up.

“You know,” I said, my voice so dry it cracked, “I never understood the saying a sight for sore eyes, but I get it now.” Yeah, my damn eyeballs were sore as fuck. I had no idea eyes could feel this way.

Sylvester sent me a grin, and then he got up and placed a soft kiss on my forehead, murmuring, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

I watched him sit back down, and then I surveyed the room, expecting the others to be here. But they weren’t. It was just Sylvester and me. “What happened?” I asked, my memories fuzzy. In fact, everything was a little fuzzy from where I lay. The room, Sylvester’s sexy face, my memories of the events that led to this hospital visit.

I tried to sit up, but a dull throb of pain erupted in my lower gut, so I stopped. That, and because Sylvester said, “Don’t move yet, Lola. You got out of surgery a while ago. They’re giving you pain meds, but you shouldn’t aggravate it.”

He was still holding onto a hand, but I used my other to touch my stomach over the blanket. I felt a little swollen. The same hand was attached to a needle and an IV drip. Surgery, he’d said. I’d been in surgery, but why?

As I struggled to remember, my head foggy, Sylvester went on, “It might take a while for things to come back to you. Don’t fight with yourself. It’ll come back naturally.”

It occurred to me that he hadn’t answered. “What happened, Sylvester?” Things might be foggy in my head, but I didn’t want to just sit there and twiddle my thumbs while I waited for everything to come back to me. I wanted to know now.

I’d been stabbed. That much I remembered, but I had no idea who did it.

Sylvester didn’t want to tell me; I could see the hesitation on his face. Still, he let go of my hand, getting up to shut the door to the room. He didn’t say a word until he was sitting back down next to me, once again reaching for my hand. “We were jumped by men working with our killer,” he said. “They knew to expect all of us. They destroyed my car, shot Maddox in the arm—”

I tried to sit up again, but my body wasn’t cooperating. Sylvester added, “He’s fine. The bullet grazed him. He got lucky. We all did, really. There were a lot of men, more than we could’ve anticipated. We thought… all this time, we thought our killer was working by himself, but he wasn’t.”

And then it hit me. All of my memories that the anesthesia had been repressing came flooding back in a surge that might’ve knocked me over if I wasn’t already laying down. Getting hit with a drug-filled dart, waking up to find myself in chains… getting stabbed in the gut by none other than Tony.

“I have everyone that’s available cleaning up the scenes,” Sylvester said. “If there’s anyone else out there who’d been working with him, we’ll find them, and we’ll put an end to them. That’s a promise.” He leaned down, bringing my hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on my knuckles.

“Tony,” I whispered. The mere mention of his name on my tongue made me want to throw up. Or maybe that was just the anesthesia.

The look on Sylvester’s face darkened, and he squeezed my hand harder. “Yes. I swung by the house he was holding you at to see him for myself. I had Viper and Big Mike meet Roman and Carter there for cleanup, and when Viper told me… I didn’t want to believe him.” He shook his head once. “That motherfucker was alive all this time, watching us.”

“Me,” I corrected him. “He was watching me. He had it out for me, and he did what he could to make me hurt the most.” Killing girls, raping them, brutalizing their bodies before leaving them for me. Oh, yes, I might be a little out of it right now, but I was sane enough to know that much.

“None of this is your fault,” Sylvester told me. “None of it. You can’t blame yourself for the actions of a madman. Tony was out of his mind. The man should’ve been dead, and he knew it.”

For the first time in a long time, I agreed with him about that. This… all those dead girls, they weren’t my fault. I didn’t force Tony to kill them. Their lives rested on his shoulders, not mine.

Look at me, being all logical and shit. I should get hopped up on drugs and anesthesia more often.

My eyebrows furrowed, and I asked, “How did you know where to find me?” But, wait. It wasn’t Sylvester. It was Harvey. “Is Harvey okay? And where are the others?” I wanted to see my other men, my other boyfriends, and make sure they were okay with my own eyes. Same with Harvey.

The things Sylvester had suspected about Harvey… even I had, towards the end there, when he’d told me he’d had a date but didn’t. I think we both owed the man an apology—and I didn’t say that lightly. Me and apologies didn’t mix too well, kind of like water and oil. It’d probably sound awkward as hell coming from me, but I shouldn’t have let Sylvester’s doubts about him get to me.

“Harvey is fine, and the others are, too,” Sylvester said. “They all wanted to be here, but I sent them home to try to get some sleep. It’s been a long two days. You were in and out of it constantly after your surgery.”

Damn. Two days? Fuck me. Not literally of course, because ow.

“I’ll give them a call soon, tell them you woke up,” he went on, giving me a gentle smile. “For the first time ever—and I mean ever—I’m thankful we had Harvey.” His smile faded. “Don’t you ever tell him I said that.”

“I won’t,” I said, probably a lie, but it was one neither of us chose to address. “But how did he know where to find me?” The more I thought about it, the more it didn’t make sense. I was pretty sure he’d told me Sylvester had sent him, which meant Sylvester had known… but how?

“You’ll probably get pissed at this, but I don’t care,” he stated matter-of-factly. “That necklace I gave you had a tracker in it.”

I tried to yank my hand away from his, but he didn’t let me. His grip on my hand was strong as steel. “Asshole,” I whispered. Here I’d thought that necklace was a peace offering, a symbol of his apology for hiding the existence of the serial killer from me. Guess I’d been too stupid to realize there had to be more to it. A man like Sylvester didn’t apologize.

“Hey, that necklace is the only reason you’re here now, Lola. Without it, you might be dead, or still trapped in that basement, at the hands of fucking Tony Torio—”

“Knives,” I corrected him. “At the knives of fucking Tony Torio. He didn’t have hands. I cut them off, remember?” I shook my head as I thought back. Tony had guys helping him. Someone had fished him from the river and helped him enact his vengeance upon me. Sending me Tina’s head, giving me that tape—hell, even recording that tape. He had to have help with all of it. Your options were limited when you had knives for hands.

Hmm. Wonder how he pissed and took shits…

I glared at Sylvester. “I am mad at you, but given that your stupid necklace helped out—a little—I’ll overlook your betrayal, for now.”

“Betrayal?” he echoed, narrowing his stare at me. “It wasn’t a betrayal, Lola. I didn’t trust that you’d stay out of trouble, and look at you: I was right. You should be thanking me.”

Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “Fuck off.” I didn’t really mean it, though, and I think we both knew that, because neither of us could keep a straight face after that. I let out a chuckle, while Sylvester grinned.

“Do I have to talk to the doctor or the police?” I asked, not really wanting to do either. I wanted to get out of this damned hospital and get home as quickly as I could; being here any longer than I had to would be like torture. Me and hospitals didn’t mix well, for obvious reasons. The only times I’d be in a place like this was when my parents had to pay doctors under the table to perform certain procedures on me.

And then that big one… the procedure to end all procedures. Sterilization. It’s ironic; my parents were the kind of people who’d want their bloodline passed down from generation to generation, but they’d anticipated it’d be Aiden doing the passing. Well, now that Aiden was dead, so were the Hardings. Our side of the family, at least.

“No, the doctor’s handled, and I dealt with the police,” Sylvester said. “There will be no investigation into this, so we can put all of this behind us and finally move on.” Never before had I heard a better sentence.

Put it all behind us. That’s exactly what I wanted to do right about now.

Sylvester stood up, slow to release my hand. “I guess I should call the others and let them know you’re awake. They’ll want to see you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Unless you want to rest more before the mob gets here?”

“No,” I said. “Call them. But—wait. Call Harvey, too. I want to see him.” I paused, taking in the frown that had grown on his lips. “And when you do call him, I want you to apologize to him for your behavior. And, yes, I will be asking him when he gets here if you did, so don’t try to get out of it.”

He scoffed at me, but relented in the end. “Fine, fine. But I’m also getting you some food and water. You need to eat a little something.”

I couldn’t argue with him there. I’d hardly been able to eat the day that I’d gone to meet my mysterious serial killer, and if it’d really been days since then… I had to force something down. Hopefully I wouldn’t just throw it right back up. Guess we’d wait and see.

As Sylvester left the room, I thought back. Everything had happened so fast, and yet, at the same time, it felt like it had ended too soon. Not soon enough for all the girls who’d lost their lives at the hands of crazy Tony, but on my end, it almost felt too easy. I lifted up my hands, eyes dropping to my wrists. Bruises sat in rings around them, from the tight chains.

Tony had been just another man before, totally unremarkable and not worthy of anyone’s notice. Because of that, he’d decided to take more from me than he should’ve, and as a result, I’d gone out of my way to make his end—or what I’d thought was his end—as painful as humanly possible. He never would’ve ended up as a knife-handed freak if I wouldn’t have killed him… but I wouldn’t have killed him if he hadn’t been another disgusting male.

What were the odds that someone had seen him floating along that night? What were the odds someone had decided to dive into the big, wide river and lug him out? The odds had to be astronomical, so much so that it had to be damn near impossible.

But someone had helped him. Someone had fished him out, and because I didn’t like the odds of something next to impossible, I figured they had to be watching us already. Watching me. Whoever it was had been watching me so closely, they’d seen me cut off Tony’s hands, seen my guys toss him into the river, as forgotten as any other corpse that we had to dispose of.

Who could it have been? And why?

Those two questions danced in my head for a long time, until Sylvester came back with a tray of food and a small paper cup filled with water. Easy to eat food, nothing that required too much chewing or hard swallowing. Mashed potatoes, peas, Jell-O. You know, stereotypical hospital food.

What were the odds that the person who’d saved Tony’s life had been one of the ones helping him out? What were the odds that person was dead now? I’d say pretty good, but that was before I knew just how easy next to impossible feats were. Next to impossible still meant it was possible.

I ate what I could, but I mostly played around with the food with the not-so-handy hospital spork. Sylvester had to help me sit up, of course, my body not wanting to move too much on its own. I did drink all the water, though. That shit hit the spot.

I wanted to tell Sylvester what Tony had said to me, before Harvey had arrived and shot up the place, but I figured I’d wait and tell them all. Do it all in one go instead of having the same conversation multiple times.

Sylvester had left the door ajar, and I didn’t know how much time passed before someone else walked into the room, but the moment I saw Maddox walk in, I couldn’t help but smile. The look on his sour face softened when he laid eyes on me, and he swept over to me, pushing his brother out of the way, and grabbed hold of my face. Within another second, his lips were on mine, and he kissed me with a fire that told me he was overjoyed I wasn’t dead.

“That’s enough,” Sylvester said, pulling him off me. “She’s fragile right now, Maddox.”

Maddox straightened himself out, running his tongue over his lower lip. “Potatoes?” he asked, and I pointed to the tray beside the bed, where the half-eaten, mostly-played-with food was. “Don’t mind if I do.” He went to the tray, grabbed my spork, and started to eat, sitting his ass on the corner of the bed as two other people funneled into the room.

“I’m not fragile,” I argued, too busy eyeing up Viper and Mike to really give my argument the backbone it should have. I might’ve been stabbed, but hey, I was no wilting flower. If I had to get off this hospital bed and prove it in a fight, I would. My body wouldn’t like it, but I would.

Viper pushed his way around Maddox and Sylvester, standing beside me. He took my needle-free hand in his, squeezing it, and bent to place a kiss on my cheek. “Thank God you’re okay,” he whispered to me. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you…”

“Don’t say it,” I told him. If these guys keep talking about me and what would’ve happened if I’d died, well, surely they’d do nothing but tempt fate, and I wouldn’t have that. I didn’t survive everything I’d lived through just so irony could come and get me.

Viper nodded, slow to pull away from me. I brought my eyes to Mike, who stood near the door, arms folded over his chest. His hair was in a low pony, his jaw covered in stubble. Maddox and Viper looked like they always did, but the big guy? He looked like he’d been really worried about me. How sweet.

“Isn’t the big one going to come and give me a hug, too?” I questioned, batting my eyelashes at him. I got the others to either roll their eyes or groan at how blatantly I flirted with Mike, but I didn’t care.

Mike didn’t want to come close. I could tell by his scowl. And yet, as the seconds ticked by, that scowl lessened in intensity more and more, finally culminating in a sigh. He uncrossed his arms, came over to me, and bent his ridiculously tall figure over the bed to give me a hug.

Yeah, a hug. How adorable.

I patted his arm. “There you go, big guy. Let it out.” My sarcasm must’ve offended him, because right then, he straightened himself out and frowned at me, but he didn’t say a single word. That was Mike for you.

I turned my head in Maddox’s direction. The man was still busy eating what was left of my food, as if it was the tastiest stuff he’d ever had the pleasure of shoveling into that mouth. “How’s your arm?” I asked. “Heard you got shot.” He wore a long-sleeved shirt, so I couldn’t see the bandage or the stitches or whatever.

“I’m fine,” he said, his mouth full of food. “I’m fucking peachy, now that that asshole is dead.” He might’ve spat a little bit of mashed potato in my direction, but we all ignored it.

Looking at Mike, I asked, “Would you close the door?” I waited until the door was shut before saying, “How many men did you guys take care of?”

They exchanged glances. Maddox set the spork down and counted on his hand. It was Sylvester who said, “About ten jumped us near the warehouses. There were more at the house, along with Tony.”

Holy shit. It sounded like a lot. A mini army, really. How in the hell did Tony have that many men following him? Were the criminals of this city that unhappy I’d unseated the Bloody Princess?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sylvester said, “it was a lot of men. We’ve never seen them before, though. Not one of them. They weren’t Bianca’s men, or Carl’s. They’re… they’re nobodies.”

“Yeah, and they were shitty shots, too,” Maddox said, rolling his left shoulder, the arm I assumed was injured. “They had high-capacity guns, and they still couldn’t take us out.”

“Maybe they weren’t supposed to,” Viper said. “Maybe their goal was just to distract us.”

“They had to know we’d go after her.” Maddox had finished my food, now staring squarely at me with those pitch-black eyes.

I nodded. “Yeah, but they didn’t know the necklace I was wearing had a tracker.” At that, none of the guys seemed particularly shocked, which I took to mean Sylvester had already told them. “And they didn’t know you’d send Harvey after me.”

Viper ran a tattooed hand down his face, muttering, “I still can’t believe Tony was alive. Fucking how?”

Wasn’t that the million-dollar question? I said, “Someone had to have been watching us that night. They saw what I did to Tony’s hands. They saw us get rid of him. They helped him… but why?” No, that was the million-dollar question.

“Who?” Maddox asked to a silent room. “Who’d give a shit so much that they’d fish that fucker out?” Hmm. Okay, so maybe there were a few million-dollar questions here. Right when I thought everything was figured out, nothing really was.

It wasn’t like we could ask Tony, since he was dead. But hey, I wasn’t going to complain about that, since the bullet in Tony’s head was the only reason I was here now. That motherfucker had been ready to slice and dice this pretty neck of mine.

“Tony didn’t say anything else to you before he—” Sylvester stopped himself, unable to say it.

I, however, had no qualms about it: “Stabbed me? No, for a guy who was pretty chatty—like, villain monologue chatty—he left out that particular detail. I was a little tied up at the time, so I didn’t think to really pry too much.” Bad me, I know. “Or chained up, I guess? Whatever.” It was my turn to ask a question. “Nothing was found at the house?”

“Roman and Carter are combing through it,” Sylvester said. “They’ll contact me if they find anything, but if they don’t, then there’s nothing.” He sat back in his ugly floral chair, running his palms along his knees. “Maddox is right, though. The attack was barely coordinated. They weren’t good shots. Those guys were new to guns, if I had to guess, and none of them seem like the type of person who’d pull Tony out of the river and nurse him back to health.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Maddox demanded. “That we got another fucker out there, watching us from the shadows? No. No fucking way.” He lost his gusto when he continued to stare at his brother, the Luciano men locked in a staring contest.

Sylvester said what was on my mind, “I think it’s the only explanation. I also think, if we move on from this believing it’s over, it’ll be a mistake.” At that, he broke the staring contest to look at me.

I nodded. “I don’t think it’s over, either.” Yet again, I just didn’t know where to go from here. What to do, how to bring this guy out into the light of day and discover his true identity.

“What can we do?” Viper asked.

“The only thing we can,” Sylvester said. “Move on, but keep our guard up. He could be anybody.”

“And what if you’re all wrong and we already put a bullet into this guy’s head?” Maddox demanded. “What if the fucker is already dead? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my fucking shoulder because you think someone out there might be plotting our death. Or Lola’s. What-the-fuck-ever. We’re Lucianos. People either want to kiss our ass, fuck us, or kill us.” That dark stare was on me once more. “And you killed the Bloody Princess. People will always want to do the same with you now, too.”

“I hate to say it,” Viper started, “but Maddox is right. We can be on guard, but we can’t keep going on like we have. There will always be someone out there who wants you three dead. And us—” He gestured between himself and his brother. “—by association.”

Mike broke his silence for the first time by saying, “What’s the point of life if you’re not living?”

I closed my eyes. They were right, of course. All this time, these past few weeks… sure, Tony was now dead—for real, this time—and those girls were avenged, but we hadn’t exactly been living it up. We’d been on the hunt, trying to nab him. We couldn’t go on like this forever.

And, beyond that, I didn’t want to. I wanted things to go back to the way they were before. I wanted to live it up. Have fun. What was the point in taking over the DeLuca estate if I didn’t get to have fun with it?

Looking over our shoulders wasn’t something new to us. Hell, I’d always done it, ever since leaving Lionsgrove. And Maddox and Sylvester were Lucianos; they were born having to keep one eye open at all times. Viper and Big Mike had grown up in the mafia life, so it wasn’t anything new to them, either.

We could do this. We could bide our time and wait for this fucker, whoever he was, to make his show-stopping appearance. When that day came, we’d be ready, and until then, we’d live our lives.

Before anyone could say anything else, a soft knock rapped on the door, and a head poked in soon after. The gray eyes that appeared were set in a worried face.

Harvey.

“Can you guys give us the room?” I asked, tossing a glance Sylvester’s way. I’d meant what I said; I was going to ask Harvey if Sylvester apologized to him. Even if he didn’t mean it, I didn’t care. Thinking Harvey could be involved… come on.

Sylvester held my stare for a while, slow to acquiesce. He followed the others out of the room, leaving Harvey and me alone. I motioned for him to close the door, and he did so, begrudgingly.

“So,” I started, watching as Harvey was slow to meander to the ugly flower-printed chair beside my bed.

“So,” he repeated, softly. His gaze fell to my stomach, though he couldn’t see anything under the blanket. He leaned forward on the chair, his arms on his knees, his shoulders hunched. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who could take out multiple people, let alone unleash a headshot at damn near point-blank range without blinking. He was just Harvey… but I guess that was his charm. His awkward, inept, fumbling charm.

“I guess I should thank you for saving me,” I began, but he held up a hand.

“No, you don’t have to. I was only doing my job.”

“I thought your job was driving around? Being the silent chauffeur?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s, uh, part of it. In a city like this, it’s always a good idea to know how to shoot.” He blinked, his voice quieting, “I’m only sorry I didn’t get there sooner. If I had, we wouldn’t be in this hospital.”

“It could’ve been worse,” I admitted. “Hell, it would’ve been.” I reached up with my IV-free hand, touching my chin, remembering how Tony had swiped my mask up and off my face, cutting me in the process. A small bandage sat over the wound, miniscule compared to the one on my abdomen. “So, thank you.”

I could tell he wanted to shrug it off, based on the way he waved his hand in the air, as if saying, forget about it. That, and the look on his face.

“Did Sylvester apologize to you?”

Harvey rubbed his forehead. “He, uh… sort of. I’m assuming you told him to.” He shifted his weight on the chair, acting like it was the most uncomfortable thing. “He thought I was the killer.” There was a pause, and then those gray eyes were on me once again, heavier than before. “Did you?”

That wasn’t an easy question to answer. I said, “I believed in you, but I was with Viper, that afternoon, watching you, waiting for you to come out of your apartment and go to the movies with Giulia—but you never showed. You said you did, but you never did. Why?”

He let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. A few moments passed before he spoke, “It just didn’t seem like the right time to go out and have fun, so I canceled the date. I didn’t want to tell you, because you’ve been pushing me to do it. I didn’t want you to think I was… I don’t know, a loser or something.” He chuckled softly at that. “I know, me, a loser? Ridiculous.”

His sarcasm made me laugh, if only for a little bit. “Well, I think you should reschedule that date, Harvey.” I breathed in a deep breath through my nose, filling my lungs as my gaze dropped to the bed I was in. “If there’s anything I’ve learned recently, it’s that you can’t live your life in fear or anger. You just gotta live.” I shot him a smile. “How sappy. It’s gross, isn’t it?”

“No,” he said, his voice serious, “I don’t think it is. Sometimes being sappy is a good thing—like cold milk with cookies. You don’t have to be a badass all the time.”

“Am I the milk or the cookies in that analogy?”

“Uh, I don’t… I don’t know?” Harvey’s cluelessness made us both chuckle.

I held a hand across my stomach, feeling the tightness there. I shuddered to think how shredded my abdomen was, what my stomach would look like once I was healed up. “Stop making me laugh.”

“Is that an order?”

Grinning, I shook my head. “More like a plea.” Neither of us said anything right away, both of us settling into the quietness that took over the room. The others might not think it, but I knew Harvey was a good guy, one of the rare ones. Not many were, so he should count himself lucky. “This might not be over, Harvey, but I want you to go out with Giulia on that date—and this time, it’s an order.”

He laughed at that, but then he must’ve realized what I’d said before the date part. “Wait. It’s not over? What do you mean?”

“Ask Sylvester. He’ll tell you. I’m feeling tired—think it’s time for a nappy-nap.” I wasn’t lying; I could close my eyes and get some sleep. I guess that’s what hospital food did to you, made you drowsy.

Or maybe that’s just because all of this conversation had overworked my exhausted self.

“Okay,” Harvey said, standing. “Get some rest.” He headed for the door, and his hand went for the knob. He didn’t open it, though, instead turning his head back to me. “I am glad you’re okay, Lola. You might’ve scared the shit out of me when you walked out of that room holding onto Bianca’s…” He coughed, jumping over that part, “but I’m glad things turned out like this.”

“You don’t think I’m scary anymore?”

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. You still scare the shit out of me, but I’m getting used to it.” Harvey sent me a dimpled smile—and that smile was the very definition of boy next door, even if he was in his thirties. Thirty-two, I think he told me once? Whatever. The smile was cute, okay? “I’m finding it’s not so bad, being scared, so long as you’re doing the scaring.”

He said nothing else, leaving the room, gently closing the door behind him. I watched him go, a strange feeling in my gut, other than the pure exhaustion threatening to take over.

That one better hurry up and go on that date, get himself an official girlfriend. If he didn’t, well… I might be tempted to add him to my harem of boyfriends, and I think we all knew that wouldn’t fly well with the others.

Chapter Thirteen – Lola

Being in the hospital sucked, obviously. For someone who had been brought in for procedures left and right growing up, I probably hated it more than most. I itched to get out of there, and thankfully Sylvester was able to convince the doctor that I’d heal up better at home. So, I went home with meds and instructions to rest. I’d have to go in in a week or two so the doctor could see how I was doing… and he’d probably give me some strengthening exercises or something.

You know, ‘cause I was stabbed and all that.

Having the guys waiting on me hand and foot was kind of nice, though. Who knew my psycho men could dote on me so freaking much? Yeah, a gal could definitely get used to it.

I breathed a little easier now, knowing Tony was gone. As much as I would’ve liked to have tortured him, to have made him regret every single choice he’d ever made in his life, it was good Harvey had killed him. Someone like that was just a waste of air and space.

Sylvester and the others thought it wasn’t the end of it, that we couldn’t go on the way we’d been these last few weeks—and I think he was right. What was the point of life if you weren’t living it? If someone was out there, someone who’d worked with Tony… the one who’d saved him that night by lugging his practically-dead body out of the river, we’d find him eventually.

Of course, there was one stop I had to make the day after I got out of the hospital. The guys thought I should wait, or have one of them do it, but I wanted to do it myself. After everything… I needed to do it myself.

And so I left the guys at home and had Harvey drive me. Now that he’d proved himself by saving my life, Sylvester, Maddox, and Viper were a little more accepting of him. They still didn’t like the guy hanging around, but they’d learn how to deal. After all, I literally owed my life to the awkward dude, so those guys could suck it up.

Harvey was silent during most of the ride, but I could see him throwing glances at me in the rearview mirror as he drove. His knuckles tight on the wheel, those hands of his able to inflict an insane amount of death. I guessed it was true, what they said: everyone was capable of killing. Everyone just had a different way of getting there.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Harvey broke the silence of the car by asking.

I sat in the middle of the backseat, my back straight against the leather seat behind me. I’d just taken a set of pain meds, so I was good to go for a while. No Olympic sports for me, but I could walk without feeling the need to vomit. Now, those antibiotics they got me on, just in case? Those made me nauseous, for real. But those I only took at night before bed and in the morning with breakfast. Had to take ‘em with food, too, otherwise that sick feeling was worse.

“It needs to be done,” I said, meeting Harvey’s gray eyes in the mirror. He knew better than to argue with me, so he only nodded. Sylvester had offered to come with me—they all did, really—but this was something I needed to do myself.

Harvey took us downtown, driving up to the one gentleman’s club I’d seen far too much of in my time here. And yet, here I was for more. Harvey was quick to park the car and get out when he turned her off. He came around to the rear door facing the club, opening it for me and helping me out by offering his hand.

I took it and let him pull me out, my midsection tight. I wore baggy yoga pants, combat boots, and a loose pink shirt; the shirt hid the ugly stitch work on my side. Yeah, I’d definitely have another nice scar there. It’d go great with the one I’d gotten when I was younger, when my parents had the doctor sterilize me.

I did have a small cut on my chin and cheek, but it had already started to scab up. I wasn’t too worried about that one scarring. I didn’t think it was deep enough.

Craning my head back, I stared up at the Gilded Rose’s sign. Since it was the middle of the day, the sign was off. As it was, the place had been closed ever since the body. It was a lot to clean up, and I was sure Newton didn’t want even the faintest trace of blood or cleaner in the air to linger by the time he re-opened its doors.

I’d called him, told him I wanted to meet with him here, so even though the place looked closed, I knew he was in there, somewhere. Probably with a few men of his own, just in case. With as many psychos running around the underbelly of this city, you could never be too careful.

Harvey tried to keep hold of me as we started walking toward the front doors, but I shook him off, partly because I didn’t want to start to rely on him so much—technically he was only an employee, even if he had saved my life. And also partly because I didn’t want anyone in Newton’s company to see how weak I currently was.

Yeah, no working out for me for a while. Hell, I bet the doctor would be pissed at me going out and doing this. But bedrest was just… it got old after a few hours; you could only stare at the ceiling or watch TV for so long before going insane.

Harvey released me, hurrying head to get the door. It was unlocked, the glass as clean as it could be, and he held it open for me as I walked inside. No more black spray paint to hide the horrors inside.

Newton stood deep in the club, near the base of the stage. He was on the phone, talking to someone, pacing back and forth in a ten-foot line, a single hand in his suit pocket. He had two menacing-looking guards standing nearby, wearing all black and frowning at me as I walked in. I held my head high, because ain’t nobody gonna intimidate me. I’d faced worse.

The place looked cleaned up, and the air smelled fresh and clean. You’d never know a body was found here not so long ago, that blood had stained the wood on the stage and dripped off its sides.

But that’s the thing about this city: looking at it, you’d never know how ugly its people were, how thick the blood in the streets could run. On the outside, it was just another city, sparkling in the daytime and all neon lights at night. But, really, this was basically Gotham 2.0.

When Newton saw me approaching, he stopped pacing, turning his stare in my direction. “I’ll have to call you back,” he told whoever he was talking to, hanging up before giving the other person a chance to say anything in response. He was definitely the type of man who liked being in charge, having power and giving orders. I couldn’t blame him, though.

Having the power and the respect that came with it… it was nice.

Harvey hung back, near the bar. Far enough away to give us some privacy, but close enough that, if needed, he could spring into action and once again save the day. Don’t tell him, but after that one time of being saved, I was done playing the damsel. Being a badass was so much more fun.

Speaking of being a badass, my mask had been gouged a bit by old Knife-Hands. It wasn’t broken, but after a quick call to Fang, I was told that he could fill the gouge with something, some molten metal that would cool and fill the line Tony’s jagged knife had created in its steel when he’d pulled it off my face.

Newton slipped his phone into his pocket, stepping toward me. “What is it?” he asked, frowning slightly at me. It was obvious the man wasn’t too thrilled with seeing me, and after everything, I couldn’t blame him. When I showed my face here, chaos tended to follow.

I gestured to the closest table. “Let’s sit.” I really wasn’t feeling steps right now, so a table in front of the stage it was. I moved slowly, holding back a groan as I sunk to the chair near the closest round table. The booths were on either side of the club, but directly in front of the stage, only tables sat.

Newton took the seat opposite mine, a mere two feet in between us over the table. He waved his two guards away, and they wandered toward Harvey near the bar, giving us a semblance of privacy. “I trust this is important,” he said, eyeing me up, undoubtedly noticing how stiff I was. “I’m a busy man, Lola.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are,” I spoke with a smile. “But it is important. I wanted to be the one to tell you.” Sylvester might’ve had the scenes cleaned and the bodies disposed of, but it wasn’t far-fetched to believe Newton hadn’t heard about the showdown.

“Tell me what?”

“The killer,” I started, tapping the table with my left hand. “He’s someone who’s had it out for me for a while. He also had it out for you because of what you did. Don’t worry, though, he’s taken care of. The asshole is deader than a doornail—huh. Is that a weird as fuck saying, or is it just me? How can a doornail be dead?”

Newton chose to ignore the last half of that, saying, “He’s dead? You sure?” When I nodded, he added, “Who was it?”

I slapped the table. “Now that, you’re not gonna want to believe. Hell, I didn’t want to believe it either, and I saw him with my own eyes.” Images of Tony’s hunched, sickly figure rose up in my head, how angry he’d been, how his eyes had already looked dead. “Tony Torio, a man you and I both know very well.”

That got him to blink. I know, I know, not exactly the oh my God response I was looking for, but I’d take an incredulous blink over nothing.

And, yes, a blink could definitely be incredulous.

“Tony?” he repeated his name, shifting his weight as he leaned forward, eyes on me. “After I gave him to you, I thought you—”

“I did. I had my guys take him to the waterfront, and then I cut off his hands. He was tossed in the river, along with his hands. He was dead—or, at least, I thought he was.” I let out a chuckle. “Turns out, he wasn’t. Someone was watching me that night, and they saved him. Tried to reattach his hands, or one of them, or something, and it didn’t work. So, instead of hands, he had these knife things…” I trailed off when I saw Newton’s expression.

Now that was an incredulous look.

“What?” I questioned.

“This has got to be some kind of sick joke,” he muttered with a frown, suspicion in his eyes.

“No, it’s not. It was Tony. I saw him with my own eyes. I heard him speak. I never thought… I would’ve bet my life that he was dead that night. Out of everyone it could’ve been, I never would’ve guessed him.”

All Newton could do was stare at me, as if he still didn’t believe me.

“He was a dead man walking, Newton. His skin was all yellow, and his eyes were nasty-looking—the man was on borrowed time as it was, so I guess he decided to make the most of it and start killing in my name.” I shrugged, trying to play it off, like it didn’t really bother me. Newton probably saw through it, so I didn’t know why I bothered.

“And you are sure he’s dead this time?”

“Oh, yeah, deader than dead. Harvey put a bullet in him. Two, actually—and the one in the head seemed pretty final to me.” I sighed and shook my head once. “We think whoever pulled him out of the water is still out there, somewhere, but the main threat is gone, so you’re free to open back up. You and your girls are safe… well, as safe as they can be here, anyway. If you happen to hear or see anything, though, I trust you’ll let me know.”

Newton said, “If that’s all—” He stood up and ran a hand down the front of his suit.

I labored to get up with him. “It’s not.” He stared at me, and I stared right back. This wasn’t something I did on normal occasions, so it was definitely an internal struggle to say what I was about to. “I wanted to apologize to you, partially for dragging you and your business into this, but also… also because I’ve had people following you for a while. I kind of thought it was you.”

He let out a frustrated sigh and stopped short of rolling his eyes. “Lola, you did what you thought was right. I’m no innocent man.” He took a step around the round table, standing directly before me now, less than a foot away. “But there are no innocent men in this city. Everyone’s dirty, one way or another.”

He was right. I couldn’t argue with him.

“And I knew I was being watched,” he informed me. “I figured it was someone loyal to you. After my little outburst at you when the body was found here, I assumed you’d suspect me. You and your men—” Newton paused to glance at Harvey near the bar. “—are lucky I let them be. Don’t do it again, or you and I will have a problem.”

I followed his glance to Harvey, seeing that he was trying to strike up a conversation with the other two men. They didn’t seem to be taking the bait. When I looked back at Newton, those dark eyes of his were on me.

I didn’t take kindly to being threatened. Maybe that’s why I’d taken such issue with Tony and his killing; it was all geared toward me, threatening me, trying to hurt me in the worst way. I said, “Trust me, Newton, if you and I have a problem, you’ll be the first to know.”

Stepping away from him, I threw a glimpse over to the stage. “Tell me when you’re re-opening, and I’ll stop by to show my support.” I gave him a smile and walked away. Newton was accustomed to getting the last word in, but I wouldn’t let him have it this time.

I grabbed Harvey, and we were out of there.

When we made it back to my house, we found the guys were there… and they were loading up their cars with loads of my stuff. This time, I didn’t wait for Harvey to park and open my door for me; I flew out of the backseat as quickly as I could, storming up the steps and practically colliding with Sylvester as he exited the house, carrying… my pillows?

Viper was stuffing things in the trunk of his vehicle. Maddox must’ve been somewhere in the house.

I set my hands on my hips and glared at Sylvester, asking, “What the hell’s going on here?”

“We’ve decided—” Sylvester paused as he stepped aside to let Viper back into the house. “—that until you’re all healed up, you’re going to stay with us. It’ll be easier for everyone that way.”

My mouth dropped open. “What? You can’t be serious. You can’t—” Forcing me to live with them, just because I was a little injured? Come on. It wasn’t like I was a baby. I could remember to take my pills on my own. I could even order takeout and have it delivered so I didn’t need to cook.

“Viper and Big Mike aren’t going to be home all the time to watch you,” Sylvester said. “So until then, you will be living with Mads and me. All of you.”

As if on cue, Maddox pushed out of the house, carrying a garbage bag full of something. Clothes, maybe. When he saw me, he gave me a smirk. Normally, I’d say that smirk meant he wanted to steal me away and fuck me long and hard, but until this thing on my stomach healed up, there would be no fucking.

No strenuous physical activities. No lifting things. No sex. Doctor’s orders.

Yeah, it was going to be torture.

“Why can’t you guys move in with me?” I asked, still not ready to give up.

“Our house is better,” he said. “Safer. People know to stay away from it. I’ll have a guard stationed near the road, just in case someone tries anything, and Maddox will be with you all day, even when we’re gone.”

“I’m not a child! I don’t need a babysitter—”

“For now, you do.” He went to place his current load in his car.

I rolled my eyes at him, unable to help myself. This whole thing was just ridiculous; I didn’t know why Sylvester couldn’t see that. Didn’t he stop and think, oh, maybe I’m going a bit too far? Or maybe he did and the answer was he didn’t give a shit. It wasn’t the first time I’d wondered if these guys were going to drive me insane.

Mike emerged from the house, Viper behind him. Both had more stuff in their arms.

“How much more?” Sylvester called out.

“I think this is it,” Viper said. “If we forgot anything, we can always run back over here and grab it.”

I stood there, wishing I could argue with them, but also knowing they were only doing this because they wanted to help me. Help me and keep me safe. Talk about annoying, right? Folding my arms over my chest, I turned to watch Harvey.

He’d gotten out of the car, watched the whole thing with an easy smile on his face. He leaned on his car, grinning.

“What the hell’s so funny?” I snapped at him.

“Nothing at all,” he said. He gave the roof of his car a single slap before moving away from it. He headed away from me, away from Sylvester, Maddox, Viper and Big Mike, heading to the mailbox toward the front of the property.

Mail. Who the hell got snail mail these days? Everything was a scam, and any bills that needed to be paid you could usually just click on automatic withdrawals. When you had loads of money like I did now, after inheriting the DeLuca fortune, you didn’t worry about any of that stuff. And if something were to happen, you had more than enough money to make it go away.

Viper and Mike finished packing their vehicles. Maddox helped Sylvester. They came over to me, kissed me on the lips, and told me they’d see me at the house.

“You want to ride with me?” Sylvester asked, but I shook my head and told him I’d ride with Harvey. He also made it a point to go to the front door and lock it, like he still couldn’t trust me to throw the locks.

I said not a word, though I had uncrossed my one arm so I could reach up and touch the skull necklace I wore. The same one Sylvester had given me, the one with the tracker in it. As proud as I was, as kind of pissed as the thought behind it made me, even now, I also knew this necklace had saved my life.

Hard to be mad at that.

They pulled away, car after car, driving down the long, winding driveway as they left. I watched them go, knowing it wouldn’t be so bad to be back in that house. It was only for a little while, anyway. Not like it was permanent or anything.

It took Harvey another minute or so to come back to me, holding onto a handful of envelopes and whatever else was in the mailbox.

“It’s sweet they care about you so much,” he said, offering me the mail. As I took it, he sighed. “I wish I had someone who cared about me that much that they’d go out of their way to make sure I was alright.”

I met those pretty gray eyes and held his stare for a few moments. And then I said, “Come on. Let’s get going. They’ll throw a fit if we’re not right behind them.” I followed Harvey back to his car. “What about Giulia? Why don’t you reschedule your date with her? You seemed to have a lot of fun with her.”

He opened the back door for me, and once I was safely in the back seat, he went around to the driver’s side and got in. “Yeah, I did. She’s really nice. Funny, too. And beautiful.”

I chuckled at that. Three out of three. “She sounds amazing. Maybe once you guys are official, I can meet her.”

Harvey was slow to pull around and get us to the road. He didn’t pull out right away, instead throwing his head over his shoulder to look at me. “That might be fun, as long as your boyfriends don’t kill me before then.”

“Oh, stop. They like you now, sort of. You saved my life. Whether they like it or not, they owe you.”

He grinned at that, and he didn’t say a thing more as he began driving us to the Luciano residence.

I started shifting through the mail, the stack resting on my lap. I didn’t check it every day. Usually one of the guys did. Nothing important was ever in it. Spam, junk mail, scam… I set the pieces of mail beside me as I went through them, not really paying much attention to them.

Harvey said, “If there’s anything they didn’t bring you and you want, I can run back and get it. Or run out to the store and buy for you. And I can swing by the house every night to get your mail so they don’t have to—”

I opened my mouth to say I didn’t really give a shit about the mail, but right then I got to an envelope that didn’t have anything written on it. No stamp, which meant it had been hand-delivered. No return address. No addressed-to section. Just a plain white envelope, though it was pretty small, compared to a normal-sized envelope.

As Harvey said all that, I tuned him out. A sinking feeling swelled within me, and I was slow to pick up the envelope. It was thin, so no tape inside it, but something about it didn’t sit right with me, so I wasn’t relieved at the lack of tape.

I worked to open it, sliding a finger inside the seam and tearing it. A small card sat inside, and I pulled it out. The front had some kind of cartoonish design, flowers in the background while the words get well were bolded and centered. I swallowed, opening the card to see the inside.

Honestly, I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t what I saw.

I read it once, twice, three times, and each time I read it, I didn’t want to believe it. There was still someone out there, someone watching me, and he wanted me to know I hadn’t eliminated him. Tony might be dead, but he wasn’t.

There was no way to know who left it. When Sylvester had cameras installed, I didn’t think he’d put any out by the mailbox near the road.

A single sentence filled the get-well card. Just one sentence. It shouldn’t mean anything to me, shouldn’t put a sick feeling in my gut, but it did. How many times had my parents told me I was their angel? That I, just like my brother, was the angel they’d wanted for so long? Tossed aside when they began favoring Aiden, but still their angel.

I’d become their angel of death, their angel of destruction. Of blood and gore and horror. I’d become everything they’d never wanted me to be, but with how shitty of parents they were, there never was any other future on the table for me. I became what they made me.

And yet…

My eyes fell to the card, reading the single line again. This guy, whoever he was, knew exactly what I was, that I pretended. What kind of angel could I be after doing what I’d done? The answer was no angel at all—and that’s why a chill swept over me as I read the line again. He was right, of course.

Even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.

Yeah, you know what? He was right. I was no angel.

I was the devil.

Aight. Let’s pause this motherfucker, shall we? Let’s just take a moment to do all that OMG shit, because… damn.

First off, Tony, amirite? A literal corpse walking and killing, a mostly dead man coming after me, all so he could get ahold of me and make me pay for what I did to him. Yeah, right, like the asshole deserved any ounce of retribution. He totally deserved the whole me chopping off his hands thing.

And I thought I was a spiteful, petty bitch. Tony here was practically a spite-fueled Jesus, risen from the dead and all that shit. Talk about a spiteful heart.

Secondly, thank God it wasn’t Harvey. Don’t know what I woulda done—besides feel stupid, I mean. Because, yeah, I definitely woulda felt dumb as fuck.

Third… still not sure about Newton, honestly. That one I just don’t trust, but I guess there are some people out there you shouldn’t trust, the ones who’d betray you at the first opportunity.

But, really, I know y’all are wondering about that get-well card. I am, too. I don’t know who the hell could’ve written it, who could’ve saved that knifed-hand asshole from a watery grave. Turns out, I don’t know much of anything.

But I’m still here. Maybe a little injured, but I ain’t dead yet, and this motherfucker… Imma get him. I’m gonna get him and stuff that get-well card so far down his throat it’ll come straight out of his limp dick.

Until next time, bitches.

So, I’m betting you guys have a lot of thoughts on the ending to this one. Bet a lot of you thought we wouldn’t discover the serial killer’s identity and kill that mo-fo until book three.

I mean, I bet a lot of you thought it might be Harvey. Or Newton, but anytime those theories were discussed in my FB group, I said, “It’s not who you think.” And I meant it! We all thought Tony was dead after the third book of A Death so Sweet, and he did die, but he didn’t stay dead. Someone’s out there, someone else…

Someone you’ve also met before.

So I really hope you’ll join me for the final book in the Born to Die trilogy, Vicious Heart.

Please leave a review/rating if you can. They really mean so much! Another great thing you can do if you want to see more books from me is share me in Facebook groups, on Instagram, on TikTok; wherever. Sometimes it feels like I’m shouting into the void, so it’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Here is my linktree, where you can find/follow me on all of the sites, if you haven’t already: https://linktr.ee/candacewondrak

The final book, Vicious Heart, is coming soon!

Table of Contents

Chapter One – Lola

Chapter Two – Maddox

Chapter Three – Lola

Chapter Four – Sylvester

Chapter Five – Lola

Chapter Six – Viper

Chapter Seven – Maddox

Chapter Eight – Lola

Chapter Nine – Sylvester

Chapter Ten – Lola

Chapter Eleven – Viper

Chapter Twelve – Lola

Chapter Thirteen – Lola