Page 97 of Mutual Obsession (Rivals of Blackthorn #2)

“Sleep well, Baby. When you wake up, there will be nothing keeping us from our future,” Jake tells her as he climbs out of bed, holding his hand out for me to take.

I lace our fingers together and let him pull me off the bed, smiling as Indie loses her battle with sleep. “Let’s go get violent and bloody together,” I say, and Jake slams his lips against mine in response.

Jacob and I arrive at the warehouse just under two hours after leaving our girl in our bed.

After much deliberation, we called Marcus to let him know where we were going, but to our surprise, he said he’d skip this one.

Though it wasn’t too much of a shock when I heard Chloe’s voice in the background.

There was a time when I took the piss out of him for how loved up he is, but now, I get it. I can barely stand being away from Indie or Jacob. When you fall in love, it changes you. It gives you everything to live for, but so much more to lose, and that’s terrifying.

That’s why The Count has to die. He’s a threat to my future with Indie and Jacob, and nothing is going to stand in the way of our happily ever after. Particularly not some arsewipe who buys and sells kids.

We’re greeted at the warehouse by Kian, who is alone this time, and he quickly shows us to the same room we used when we interrogated Gregg. The Count is strapped to the same chair, only this time he’s been stripped down to his underwear.

“Is he wearing tighty-whiteys?” Jake asks with a chuckle as he shakes his head, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Kian grimaces as he exaggeratedly shivers. “They’re much tighter than they should be, too. Though I expect they’re quite stained after everything Bree put him through.”

As I take the time to really look at the man, I see how true Kian’s words are. He looks like he’s already got one foot in the grave, and can barely keep his own head up. It must have taken a lot to get him to crack, which is why he appears broken beyond repair.

The Count looks very similar to the aged mock-up that Kellan created from Indie’s sketch drawing, it’s actually a little scary.

He looks to be in his sixties, with grey hair and wrinkles across his face.

On all the CCTV footage we found of him, his hair was perfectly gelled back, with not a strand out of place, but now it’s greasy and hanging limp. I’m also fairly sure there’s a bald spot on the top of his head, which he’s clearly been trying to hide.

His head is slumped forward and his eyes are closed, though it’s not clear if he’s asleep or passed out. I’m a little shocked by how lean and muscular he is for his age, but it appears he keeps himself in shape.

What stands out more than anything is the excessive amount of wounds littered across his body. There’s not a single patch of skin that isn’t covered in either a bruise, a cut, dried blood, or, in some cases, even burns.

“Bree really fucked him up,” I say, stating the bloody obvious.

Kian chuckles as he looks through the one-way mirror with pride. “Actually, most of us had a go on him. It took much longer to break him than we would have liked, but it meant we got to experiment with new techniques.”

“Like what?” Jacob asks, his eyes shining with excitement.

“Obviously, Bree used her knife. There’s some big chunks of skin missing on the back of his arms and calves where she skinned him. I removed his nails, and when that didn’t work, I took a few fingers and toes, too.

“Kellan crushed most of the bones in his hand and feet, which was extra brutal for him. While Liam experimented with electricity, hence the burns.”

“Electricity?” I repeat, shaking my head at the sheer amount of torture the man has endured. “At his age, it’s a bloody miracle he’s still alive.”

“Yeah, I think the electricity may have restarted his heart a few times. We’ve been allowing a doctor to tend to him in between, to keep him present as much as possible,” Kian replies, shrugging his shoulders like it’s no big deal.

“Does he know he’s going to die today?” Although Jake directs the question to Kian, his eyes narrow on the man in front of us, his gaze darkening as he no doubt thinks about us ending his life.

Kian shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. He gave us the information we needed almost four days ago, and we’ve continued to torture him while we verified it. He probably thinks this is just another session.”

“But you have verified the info?” I clarify.

Kian’s smile widens. “Oh, yeah. We’ve already set most of our plans in motion, so it won’t be long until we’ve brought about the downfall of The Aristocracy.”

Jacob’s devilish smile no doubt matches my own, and I’m relieved that we’ve been a part of this. Although we have selfish reasons for taking out The Count—to keep Indie safe—we don’t agree with what The Aristocracy is about, and we’re happy to play at least a small part in their downfall.

“So we can kill him and be done with it?” Jake turns his gaze to Kian, eager to hear his answer.

“You can do whatever the hell you want with him. Bree says you can keep him alive for as long as you want, or you can end him straight away…the choice is yours.

“But I should tell you, our doctor doesn’t believe he’ll survive much more. So if you have a specific way you want him to die, I would get on with it, or you risk killing him by accident.” Kian’s nose wrinkles at the end, like him dying when he’s not supposed to repulses him.

Honestly, this is something Jacob and I have struggled to agree on. We both agree that he has to die, or Indie will never feel safe again, but that’s where our similarities end.

As far as I’m concerned, The Count never laid a finger on Indie, and that’s the only thing stopping me from unleashing my full rage on him. Yes, he was a threat to her, and he tasked Gregg with finding her, but he never actually touched her, so that’s his one saving grace in my eyes.

Jacob, on the other hand, couldn’t agree less.

He doesn’t care that The Count has never touched Indie, it’s that he would have if he’d found her.

Jacob claims that The Count wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Indie if Gregg had handed her over to him when he had her, and for that alone, he wants to make him pay.

I think there’s a good chance he’s right, but I’ve always been someone who punishes people based on their actions, rather than their intent.

There are many people who throw threats around like they’re nothing, saying they’re going to kill someone, but very few actually have the balls to go through with it.

If we punished everyone based on what they say they’re going to do, we’d be killing a lot of people. Unfortunately, I love Jacob very much, and he’s a possessive, protective arsehole, so if he wants to hold The Count’s intent against him, there’s no way in hell I’m going to stop him.

“I say we get on with it then,” Jake says with his dark, hungry gaze fixed on me.

“I will leave you to it. I promised Freya I’d test wedding cakes with her, and she’ll have my balls if I’m late.

My security team is in the office next door, so just let them know when you’re done, and they’ll take care of everything,” Kian says as he pulls on his coat and starts heading towards the door.

“I didn’t know you were getting married,” Jacob replies.

Kian’s face lights up, his dimples making an appearance as his smile grows wider. “Yes, to Liam’s sister, Freya. I’ll have to introduce you some day, she’s the best person I’ve ever met. Certainly too good for me.”

“We’d like that. I’m sure once Indie feels more settled, she’d like to make some friends. She gets on really well with Teigan already,” I tell him.

“Teigan’s great, though I question her sanity for putting up with Evan. Then again, people probably say that about Freya.” He chuckles as he shrugs, turning to leave. “Have fun,” he shouts over his shoulder, slamming the door behind him.

Jacob turns to me, his expression fierce. “I know I said I want to drag this out and make him pay, and I still want this to be painful for him, but now that I’m here, I just want to get back home to Indie.”

I lean closer and press a soft kiss against his lips, before pulling back with a smile. “Let’s end this and go home.”

We walk into the room together, but even when Jake slams the heavy door behind us, the loud noise still doesn’t wake The Count up. I’m relieved to see his chest rising and falling, even if it’s at a ridiculously slow pace.

I stop just in front of him, almost feeling a little sorry for the pale, gaunt-looking man who is barely holding on to life in front of me. Still, he deserves everything he gets, which is why I don’t hesitate to slap him across the face, startling him awake.

He lets out a yelp, his eyes fluttering as he tries to get his bearings. It takes him a few seconds of blinking before he’s able to focus, and he has the good sense to recoil when he sees me and Jacob standing in front of him.

“Who are you?” he spits, his voice hoarse, no doubt from all the screaming he’s done over the last couple of weeks.

Jacob crouches down, so he’s face-to-face with The Count, which clearly catches him off-guard, as he tries to lean backwards, to put some distance between them, but he has nowhere to go.

“Do you know how you ended up here? How you were caught after all these years?”

The Count’s eyes widen as they darken, his lips twisting into a scowl, and it’s clear this is something he’s thought about a lot over the last few days. “I’ve heard them mention Gregg a few times.”

He’s not giving much away, but I can tell by the way he’s studying Jake’s facial expressions, he’s trying to get a read on him. So when Jake smiles, his scowl deepens.

I clear my throat to get his attention. “Gregg helped us find you, but he’s not the main reason you’re here,” I tell him, somewhat cryptically. I can see how much I’m drawing him in, even though he tries to look uninterested.

“Gregg gave me up?” he snarls.