Page 50 of Carved Obsession (The Sanctum Syndicate #4)

Carter

One hour and four minutes. I fucking floored it all the way to Bonray, home of the Camoras’ HQ.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but a dive bar at the border of the shady part of town seems appropriate.

My leg’s been twitching for the last ten minutes, and the air in the car is too constricting as I’m forced to wait here for the others.

Maddox called the other guys and took care of everything as I was driving.

I’m grateful, because I fear what I’ll do if it’s just us two.

Three SUVs pull up in the dim parking lot, and Vincent, Finnigan, and a whole security team climb out as I exit the car, itching to walk in.

Fucking finally!

“Tina confirmed the other two brothers, Lucas and Alvaro Camora, should still be here. She tracked a few CCTV feeds in the area, and their cars were seen coming this way, but not leaving,” I confirm to the whole team. “No sign of Bernard, but maybe the brothers will know.”

“How do you wanna do this?” Finnigan asks.

“Storm in, kill everyone but the Camoras, and cut them up for information,” I answer in one breath.

“I’m serious,” he pushes, rolling his eyes.

I’m fucking serious too.

“We don’t want to intimidate them too much. At least not right at the start,” Vincent says, his gaze narrowed on mine for enough time to read the seriousness of my words. “The four of us will go in, plus four of you.” He points at our team.

I nod in approval when he cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Briana.” He turns to the team leader. “Walk in after us and keep an eye out in case the rest of the team should join us.”

“I’ll take Kyle with me. A couple is more believable in a dump like this,” Briana says.

“Let’s go.” I walk away from them, too eager to get the hell in and find out where Scarlet is.

When we pass through the door, it’s clear we’re not gonna blend in.

Maybe the security team, since they’re dressed more casually, but Vincent, Finnigan, and I stick out like a sore thumb.

Maddox is usually in tall boots, cargo trousers tucked in, and a T-shirt stretched out over his expansive torso, but with his stature and graveness, he sticks out regardless.

The barroom is not even half full, and every person in here watches us, most of them openly, as we walk toward the bartender.

“We need a word with your bosses,” I say.

The bartender’s gaze swipes over our group, growing more and more insecure as he goes along.

“I know we’re a good-looking bunch, but would you mind admiring us after you let your bosses know we want a word? Thanks,” Finnigan says.

“And who are you?” he asks, feigning boredom.

“Tell them Scarlet’s future husband is here to talk.” Though they come out of my mouth, the words startle me.

The bartender cocks an eyebrow and drops the cloth he pretended to wipe the bar top with, then turns to pick up the phone at the end of the bar. Too many gazes burn my flesh, but I couldn’t give less of a shit about their opinions right now. I wouldn’t go through this for just anyone.

The bartender mutters something on the phone before he hangs up and turns to us.

“Through there.” He points to the door on the right-hand side of the bar. “The door at the end of the corridor.”

I turn on my heels and storm through with sure, determined steps. A shorter, fuller man, with curly brown hair brushing against his ears, waits in the open doorway, arms crossed against his chest. He straightens instantly when more of us keep walking into the narrow corridor.

“Scarlet’s future husband , I presume?” His tone bears traces of amusement, but I think our presence wiped most of it off.

“Carter Pierce.” I introduce myself and look inside the office, at the second man, who has risen from behind the wooden desk. No sign of Bernard, though. “Where’s your brother?”

We step into the office, crowding inside the room.

“Well, I’m Alvaro,” the first man says, “and this is my brother, Lucas. But I presume it’s not this brother you’re asking for.”

“Nice to meet you, I guess,” Lucas adds.

“Our apologies. Circumstances ask for some urgency, I’m afraid,” Vincent says. “This is Finnigan Hennessey and Maddox Severin, and I am Vincent Sinclair.”

“From...Queenscove?” he asks, cocking his head. But I don’t miss the slight tremor in his gaze at the revelation.

“The very same,” Finnigan answers.

“And why are you looking for our brother?” Lucas asks.

“He attacked Scarlet and kidnapped her out of her home tonight,” Vincent says. “We need to find him.”

Alvaro frowns, whipping his head toward his brother as they exchange confused, irritated looks.

“You’re sure of this?” he asks.

I step forward and pull the cufflink out of my waistcoat pocket, the ripped shirt fabric still attached, then place it on his desk.

“This was on the floor of her ransacked office,” I say. “There was some blood too.”

The taller, leaner man leans over the desk and picks up the object, rolling his eyes and sighing. His exasperation speaks volumes. Why do I have the feeling there’s not much love lost between the brothers?

“We need to know where he could have taken her. Now.” I drop my gaze when the fire inside of me threatens to spill over.

“Look, we—”

“You might also want to do a sweep of all your bank accounts,” I say, needing to throw another incentive in there.

“Scarlet’s PC was still turned on when we found it.

In an attempt to convince your brother to grant her the divorce, she’s been looking into all of your finances.

I only glanced at the records, and I could tell right away.

He’s moving money around. Money he himself no longer has. ”

“Are you suggesting he’s stealing from us?” Lucas asks, disbelief pulling at his brows.

“I’m not suggesting it. I’m telling you.”

He exchanges a look with his brother which lasts more seconds than I’m willing to waste right now.

“I have an idea.” Alvaro steps forward. “Our mother’s old house at the edge of town, next to the small forest there.”

“Take us.” I don’t wait for any response, finally seeing some goddamn light as I turn around and head straight for the exit.

Only a minute passes before the man walks out and heads to the parking lot. “Follow me.”

* * *

House is too big of a word for the ruin that welcomes us at the edge of the Bonray woods. But it could be a fucking shed for all I care, because a shiny car sits at its entrance, and I would bet my left nut that it belongs to the asshole I’m searching for.

We sneak around, trying to keep quieter than the whistling wind. Voices come from inside, through the broken windows of the small, abandoned cottage.

“Your fucking gambling addiction is not my goddamn problem. Get it through your thick skull, Bernard. I am not giving you any more stones!” Scarlet’s yell is a caress over my soul.

“Just...I’ll give you the damn divorce, Scarlet. Just give me stones from your next few jobs, and I’ll sign the papers.” His harsh tone disguises the desperation. Not very well, though.

“Where will it end, huh? You have a problem, and I may not be a gambler, but I bet that this arrangement will never end. You’ll keep stealing from your business, you’ll keep going into debt, and you’ll keep harassing me for precious stones. It. Will. Never. End!”

“For fuck’s sake, Scarlet! Just give me what I need. They’ll fucking kill me if I don’t repay the debt.”

“Nah, I’m good. Feel free to kill me, then take it from your business account. Again. I’m sure your brothers won’t mind.” The last line is sprinkled with so much sarcasm.

“Motherfucker,” Alvaro whispers next to me.

I raise my hand and signal everyone to go in as Bernard shouts and rages inside.

As I storm through the door, I spot Scarlet tied to a chair.

When she sees me, her face lights up like a thousand suns shone their rays on her, and her soon-to-be-dead ex recoils in surprise a few feet away. More at his brother than us.

The man looks wrong...red, bloodshot eyes. Either he’s on drugs or he hasn’t slept in a week.

I look Scarlet up and down, searching for spots of blood on her pastel-purple jumpsuit as the tension in my forehead seems to bleed out of me. When I reach her eyes, they’re soft, strangely cheerful, with a touch of sweet madness as she quirks her lips.

“I’m not hurt, Carter.” She answers the question I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

I nod, then turn my attention to her ex.

“Do you remember what I told you last time you dared touch Scarlet?” My voice doesn’t quite sound like my own—a harsh, guttural tone as I stalk toward my target.

He reluctantly steps back, holding a knife up like he’s about to slice some damn bread. Fucking pathetic. When Maddox goes to untie Scarlet, the asshole attempts a step toward her, but one growl from me and he stalls, knife tensing in his grip.

“Answer the fucking question,” I demand. “Do you remember what I told you?”

He nods his head, the movement staggered as his gaze trembles.

“Good. Then you know what follows.”

The moment unfolds in a flurry. His eyes bulge as an animalistic panic overtakes him.

A shriek cuts through the tension beside me as his arm swings out, knife glinting in the harsh light, aimed directly at me.

But his gaze shifts, drawn past me, to where a flash of wild, walnut-brown hair barrels forward.

A fierce blur of fury rushes at him head-on.

She’s fast. Pure defiance and rage leave us no time to react as she tackles Bernard to the ground.

Her rage would make her look unorganized if it wasn’t for the strategic movements. She forces the knife out of his hand and swipes it away before she plants her knees on his forearms.

The first swing of her fist lands with a blood-curdling crack, and Bernard’s nose explodes as it bends.

“What a stupid fucking woman I’ve been.” She punctuates each word with another strike to the man’s face. “First, to choose you! ” Another swing to his ear makes the man cry out in agony. “Second, to give you the impression that I’m fucking weak.”