Page 62 of Blood and Thorns (Twisted Ever After #1)

Sebastian

The man knew nothing, but that didn’t stop me from using my knuckles. His flesh split at the impact, his bones crunching beneath my force.

It wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

“He’s dead,” Caden commented, but he was smart enough not to try and stop me. “He’s just a hired gun who’s clearly shit at his job.”

My knuckles ached as I pulled back, my breathing frantic as this rage surged through my veins like poison.

Blood coated my skin, the heat of it a small comfort as I cracked my neck to try and relieve just some of the fucking tension.

Licking along my bottom lip, I kicked the chair, sending the prick crashing to the concrete.

Of course he didn’t react. I was pretty sure I’d killed him five minutes ago, but I couldn’t help myself. Not when they’d come that close to hurting her. Graves pointed a fucking gun to her face , and the thought of losing her clawed at my ribs, leaving my lungs tight.

I wasn’t used to this panic, this brutal fucking vulnerability .

It was fear, I realised, searing me from the inside out.

Turning, I found Caden standing there with his arms crossed, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up from where he’d had a turn. His watch was smeared with blood, the obnoxious ticking louder now I wasn’t so focused. He usually took it off, but clearly, he’d gotten caught in the moment.

Langdon was the first to have a go but quickly grew bored, which was very unlike him. He still smelt like smoke, the soot and scorched flesh clinging to his clothes as he frowned down at the information found on the hired gun.

Which always was nothing but an agreement for money, and a number that we traced to Detective Gabriel-fucking-Graves. A soon-to-be dead man.

I couldn’t calm down, this insistent energy crackling beneath my skin only increasing. Needing to get home I left Langdon there to organise the cleanup team, Caden side eyeing me as I chose to drive.

I wasn’t any calmer, my grip on the steering wheel making the leather squeal.

My control was fracturing, the very thing I needed to keep my demons at bay disappearing too fast for me to rebuild.

It put a pressure on my chest, as if I was fourteen again watching my power be taken by someone I was told to trust.

Pulling into the underground garage, I didn’t bother to park in a bay, swinging the car to a stop and stepping out before I could combust.

You’re so fucking weak. They died because you weren’t strong enough.

I never knew if it was actually a memory or whether it was a manifestation of my subconscious. Either way, it was always my father’s voice that scolded me. Reminding me of my failures.

Caden silently stood to the side, the lift taking its sweet time to ascend before it finally opened on my floor. Except the air was too still, my eye drawn to the broken statue just a few feet away.

Caden tensed, as if sensing the same distinctive stiffness. “You think she’s finally made a run for it?”

I stormed through my home, but she wasn’t here, my lungs becoming heavier with every vacant room. Where the fuck was she? She wasn’t allowed to leave.

With a snarl I went to my office, Raven tapping at the glass of my terrarium as if she could sense my distress. Bending over the computer I scrolled to the security log.

“Bas, maybe you should just let her go. She’s just lost–”

“Shut up and read the fucking log.”

Caden pursed his lips, his attention burning the side of my face. “Beatrice Potter used her card a few hours ago to unlock the lift.” I stilled in my chair, and he glanced down at me with a raised brow. “What?”

“Mrs Potter was fired over a week ago.”

“Jesus Christ.” Caden dragged a hand down his face before clicking a few buttons on the mouse. “Unless your girl’s a secret IT nerd, I don’t think she has the knowledge to scramble the cameras, do you?” He pointed at the screens, showing the footage being blocked for a total of nine minutes.

There was footage of Arabella arriving with me, our kiss, and then nothing. It only started up again after a short time had passed, showing nothing for a few hours until Caden and I ascended the lift.

The security was on a separate server, protected and supposedly tamper proof.

So who the fuck managed to interfere with it?

My stomach dropped, my palms sweaty as I stared at the screen. Someone else had been here. Someone else had taken Arabella.

“Need to get someone over to check on Mrs Potter.” Caden clicked a few buttons on his phone before placing it face-up on the table. “Dad, there’s been an incident.”

“Son, I was just about to call,” my uncle’s voice echoed through the speaker.

“I need the contact for someone able to hack the surrounding CCTV of the penthouse, all street cameras as well as private. We believe someone’s broken into the penthouse.”

“Ah, that’s exactly why I wanted to speak to you,” Alexander said cooly. “Sebastian should really take better care of his toys.”

Heat seared through me, my rage almost blinding. “Where the fuck is she?” I snarled.

“Oh good, you’re there. It saves me from having to make a separate call.”

“Dad, get to the point,” Caden growled. “Do you know what’s happened to Arabella?”

“ I suppose you should come over to my place. I have a guest you’ll want to meet.”

“Dad… what the fuck?”

“Honestly Caden, your language is atrocious.” Alexander swirled his glass of wine, taking a sip before turning to me with a raised brow. “It’s clearly from the company you keep.” He glared at Langdon, who simply responded with his middle finger.

“You want to tell me what happened?” I demanded, frowning down at Ryder tied up to a large oak dining chair. He flinched at my expression, my anger barely contained.

Alexander tutted his disappointment. “You were being erratic, Sebastian. It was clear you weren’t taking your medication, so I made sure you were keeping safe.”

I narrowed my eyes at my uncle. “So you had me tailed?”

“You seem to forget I’ve been dabbling in this industry for far longer than you’ve been alive.” His gaze was sharp when it met mine. “And I didn’t trust you’d do something stupid, like hire this buffoon.”

Ryder seemed offended, his complaint muffled by his gag.

“Which was why I hired my own tracker,” Alexander continued, taking the seat opposite. “They caught a certain thief stealing something he shouldn’t.”

Then Ryder was dead.

I surged forward, rage boiling pitch-black in my veins. My hand closed around Ryder’s throat with every intention of crushing it, only for Caden to yank me back.

“If you kill him now, he won’t give us the answers we need to get Arabella back,” he growled into my ear, voice low and urgent.

I heard him, but every cell in my body screamed for blood. I wanted to watch the light drain from Ryder’s eyes, to feel his last breath shudder against my grip. Violence was the only thing keeping me from falling apart, the only thing louder than the terror hollowing out my chest.

But I forced myself to nod, dragging myself back under control.

“Why didn’t you stop him from taking Ara?” Caden asked his father, his grip not lessening on my arm, as if worried I’d give in to my demons.

“Because I didn’t get the information until much later.

He was told to follow, not interfere.” Alexander downed the rest of his red wine, placing the glass onto the table beside him.

His home was as opulent as him, with rich wooden furniture and expensive art.

He sat on his brown leather Chesterfield, having placed Ryder on the chair in his living room.

He’d pre-emptively rolled up the rug, leaving the wood between them bare.

Shrugging free from my cousin’s grip, I reached over to yank Ryder’s head back awkwardly before removing the gag. “Where’s Arabella?” I snarled.

“Yeah.” Ryder winced. “So I think we have a bit of a misunderstanding.”

I released his head, only to reach down and pull his middle finger back until it dislocated. Ryder screamed, his smile turning into a sneer. I did the second finger, enjoying the way the bone cracked before reaching for the third.

“Okay, okay! Stop for just a fucking second and let me fucking answer!” He let out a wheeze when I stepped back, sweat beading down his face from the pain. “I took her to a private airfield in Upminster.”

“Did she go willingly?” Alexander asked, always stirring up shit. I would’ve snarled at him if Ryder wasn’t so responsive now that I’d dislocated and possibly broken three of his fingers.

“Fuck no. Bitch bit me.” He began to smirk. “I like them fiery.”

“This guy has a fucking death wish,” Langdon signed, and Caden simply shook his head in response.

“Where was the plane headed?” Alexander asked, his tone tediously calm, the polar opposite of this maelstrom inside me.

Ryder licked along his bottom lip, eyes darting between all three of us. “Look, I was paid to steal and take her to the airfield. After that, I couldn’t care less, so I didn’t ask.”

I raised my fist, ready to break his fucking jaw.

“Not the face!” Ryder tried to bend back, as far as the chair would allow. “Look, I had a cheeky look at the flight manifesto. The plane was chartered for Paris.”

“And who exactly paid you for all this?” Alexander asked, swinging his leg to hook over his knee. “Let me guess, Margot Laurent?”

“Bingo.” Ryder grinned. “The same bitch I stole the brooch from. I have her address, by the way. Plus, I have details of all the fancy gadgets she has in that posh Chateaux of hers. Top of the range security stuff.”

“How many men work for her?” Langdon signed.

“Mate, do I look like I can read fingers?”

“He asked how many men work for her?” Caden translated before he frowned down at his phone. Stepping back, he answered quietly, his shoulders tensed.

Ryder’s eyes brightened. “Okay, let’s talk payment first. What was it we agreed, 100k?”

“Payment is we don’t strangle you with your own intestines,” Langdon responded, and I immediately translated, if only to give myself something to do that didn’t involve re-arranging Ryder’s features with my fist.

“Okay, seems fair,” Ryder said, clicking his tongue as he gave us the address. “If that’s all, I’d like to be untied now.” He wiggled his unharmed left hand, as if emphasising the ropes which I was pretty confident were from the curtains.

Caden came back, his expression tight. “Mrs Potter committed suicide. Our guys found her hanging over the banister in her home. Looks to be a few days old, at least.”

“I have nothing to do with anyone self-exiting.” Ryder strained against his restraints.

“Mrs Potter would never have done such a thing. They’re obviously mistaken,” Alexander said stiffly, clearly disturbed by this new information.

“They’re not,” Caden muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “Fuck, she was my nanny for almost a decade. ”

Ryder rocked the chair slightly to the side. “Sorry for your loss?”

I kicked at him, almost toppling him over before I caught the front of his shirt. I kept him there, on the edge of falling with his weight on the two back legs of the chair. “You entered my penthouse with a keycard.”

“Yeah, yeah, it was literally left outside for me!” He sucked in a breath when I let him jolt back slightly.

“Look, it’s not my fault the bitch who hired me clearly didn’t trust my skills, because I’m far too talented to use a simple key card.

At least I got to use some of my new toys to jam the cameras.

Sorry about that, by the way. I highly recommend you get someone to redo those servers; they were way too easy to hack. ”

He looked between us as I settled the chair back on all four legs.

Licking his lips, he drawled, “So, it looks like you guys have a lot to think about. If someone would be kind enough to untie me, I’ll be on my way.”

Caden held his gun to the side of his head.

“Fuck, okay there, big man. Let’s talk about this first. Do you really want to mess up your dad’s pretty floor?” Ryder stammered.

“Let him live,” I said, Caden’s eyes widening when he turned to face me.

Ryder’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you.”

I breathed through my nose, trying and failing to expel the relentless buzzing beneath my skin. “Don’t thank me just yet.”