Page 148 of The Fractured

I switched off the engine, unable to say a word as we sat still.

It all felt so much darker now.

Lily also looked like she was one trigger away from crying. Her eyes were red, and tears clung to her eyelashes.

“Come upstairs,” she said softly.

I gave her a single, subtle nod and waited for her to move first. I needed to clear my head, air my frustrations, and try not to get caught or killed.

In the rearview mirror, a police car pulled into the street. They were some distance away, but I knew they were here for Lily’s protection and our statements. There was no way Mark would delay getting those or risk me driving his daughter without a tail. He would want to make sure she got home safe, and with the arrival of the police, they could tell him that.

Lily shut her door. The second she stepped away from the car, I leaned over and manually locked it.

When she realized it was too late, she tried the door handle. “Dean, don’t—”

The plea in her voice was cut off as I turned the key over. The engine rumbled deep, and I refused to look at her in case doing so changed my mind.

I shoved the gear stick into drive and pushed down hard on the accelerator, sending the back tires skidding until the car lurched into the street. There were no lights in my rearview, and no sirens to be heard. Even if there was, I doubted I would stop.

Chapter 50

Dean

There was no plan.

I wanted revenge, and I would get it no matter what.

I had no issue avenging her mistreatment three years ago, and would happily do it again.

Taking the gun from the glove compartment of my car, I tucked it into the back of my jeans as I stepped onto the street outside Castello di Vetro.

It was afternoon.

All the clubs along this street were closed until night.

There was no one around, and the rain fell heavier.

“You ready?” Vince asked, tugging his hood and bandana up and pulling on gloves.

I did the same without a response and climbed out of the car.

I approached the front door and didn’t hesitate to smash a hole through the black glass with the butt of the gun. Chipping away more glass, I waited for a shout or an alarm. None came, and I reached through, and I unlocked the door.

The foyer was empty. There was no one snorting lines off the front desk this time.

I moved to the next door, gun in hand and my finger hovering over the trigger.

The interior of the club was just as quiet with its lights and music off. There wasn’t a single person in sight upstairs, but I kept moving towards the basement entry, passing the black mirrors on the walls. I avoided looking at the reflection.

I knew how I felt. I didn’t need to see it either.

The next door was easier to open. I kicked at the lock, and the door swung in, revealing the dark stairwell behind it.

I took to the steps quietly, keeping my breathing in check while I locked in. I couldn’t afford to make mistakes.

The apartment’s foyer was empty and smelled of cigarettes and cooking oil. I led the way up the stained concrete stairs, eyes fixed on the next landing. And then the next. Each landing had a fluorescent light that either flickered or wasn’t working at all. Our stop was on the second floor, where the light was out, shrouding us in much-needed darkness as we closed in on the apartment door to our left.

Vince made quick and quiet work of the lock while my heart thundered against my ribcage.