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That hitman had been Scythe. The man War was already in love with.
Hadn’t that been a fucking shit show.
I ground my teeth together. “Agreed. It’s time we took care of it. They ordered that hit on your old man. One of their own admitted to it. Even if it was Scythe who’d carried out the actual kill, they gotta know we don’t take that shit lightly. We going for their leader?”
War puffed on his cigarette, blowing a stream of smoke into the darkness around us. “Scythe never got the guy’s name when he took the job, but we know it was one of them. I’m holding their leader responsible. You know him?”
I shook my head. “Not really.”
War touched the screen of his phone. It glowed yellow, lighting his face, and he turned it around to show me.
It was a mug shot of a man who looked vaguely familiar.
“Hayden ‘Chaos’ Whitling.” War’s voice was barely calmer than a snarl. “Low-level gangbanger until he balled up and offed their leader so he could take his spot.”
“Vicious.”
War punched my shoulder. “If one of you did that to me, watch me come back and haunt your asses.”
I couldn’t imagine anyone doing that to War though. He was well liked, both inside our chapter and with the other Slayers’ clubs. It was sometimes hard to believe he was Army’s son.
The two of them were nothing alike.
War might have idolized his old man, and I’d been as loyal to him as I was to War, but Army had a coldness to him I’d never seen in his son. A ruthlessness to get to the top and to make sure nobody ever saw him as weak.
Under his command, I’d done things I didn’t want to think about.
War gave me a shove toward Nash’s Jeep. “Come on. Head in the game. Tonight, we end this thing with Caleb. Tomorrow, we worry about the Sinners and Hayden ‘Chaos’ Whitling.”
9
KARA
She wasn’t coming back.
I’d waited for hours, while Caleb’s Halloween party continued outside the four walls of the house I was kept prisoner in. Feminine screams shattered through raucous male laughter and heavy, thumping music. I folded in on myself with every one, until I was curled up in a ball in the corner of Caleb’s basement dungeon.
It was sick that I seemed to be safer in here than the women outside. I couldn’t even bear to think about what Caleb and his friends were doing to them.
If it was anything like what they’d done to me, God save their souls.
Was one of the women screaming Rebel? She’d promised help. That she had men on the outside who would come and free me. But Caleb had taken her somewhere, and now I was more alone than ever.
Time ticked by slowly. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep. The little baby inside me kicked and rolled and punched, completely unaware of the danger I’d so stupidly put us in.
Gradually, the party noise outside died away, leaving me in a silent house.
Exhaustion crept over me, and sleep beckoned.
His footsteps on the stairs shattered any hope of rest. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around my belly and turned away from the door.
I didn’t even need to look up when he undid the locks. Rebel had been gone too long. He’d either killed her, or she’d been smart enough to get away and never ever come back here.
I hadn’t been as clever. Just like my father always told me. All I was good for was my pretty face.
“Get up, slut.”
I shook my head. I’d been praying to get out of the windowless room for days, and now that I had the opportunity, I didn’t want it. Not when it meant going with Caleb. If there was even the slightest chance Rebel was still trying to free me, I needed to be here. If he took me somewhere else, I was right back to square one.