My only regret was the look on Shannen’s face.

  She wasn’t scared of me.

  She wasn’t disgusted or angry about what I’d done.

  She was devastated.

  Heartbroken.

  I saw the exact second her body went rigid when James put his hands on her. She wasn’t okay, and that’s a line no one gets to cross.

  If I really think about it, this is all his fault. I’m the victim here because what was I supposed to do? Not break him in half after the way he behaved. That’s just an unrealistic expectation of my self-control.

  Being dragged away from Shannen was one of the worst moments of my life. The look on her face when the gun came out—yeah, that one’s lodged itself somewhere permanent in me. I know how fast men like that pull triggers, and I wasn’t about to let her watch my skull split open like a fucking watermelon across the floor. I couldn’t let her watch me die, and that’s the only reason I went quietly.

  I've been questioned, sneered at, and told I'm fucked beyond belief by at least a dozen cops, but I trust Cain and Lucien to come through for me because I'd shut the whole fucking system down if they needed me to.

  I hope my girl is okay.

  She won't be.

  I know she won't.

  It's okay, baby. I'm coming home soon.

  The fuckers won't even give me a phone call, which I'm pretty sure violates about six different rights, but no one here is listening to me. They just see the broken bones I left behind and decide I don't deserve basic human decency.

  I'm cuffed too, which is weird because I'm not a threat to anyone. I'm only violent toward people who deserve it, and I have no intention of hurting anyone in this shithole. I only hit what needs hitting.

  I sit back, letting my head fall against the cold concrete wall, and close my eyes.

  Red hair.

  Gold eyes.

  Fire and sunlight and that smile she gives me when she thinks I'm not looking.

  That's what's waiting for me on the other side of this.

  That's what I'm going home to.

  I’m too old for this shit.

  My neck’s fucked, and my back’s even worse.

  It’s daylight now, which means I’ve been here a hell of a lot longer than I should’ve been.

  I’m trying not to let it get to me, but I’m starting to worry that Lianna hasn’t gotten through to Lucien or Cain. When I gave her those names, I didn’t think about how those two don’t pick up their phones unless it’s someone in their circle, and she’s not.

  A bang rattles the cell door, and Officer Fuckhead struts in like he owns the place. His hand is on his belt, chest puffed out, giving off small-dick energy with every step he takes toward me.

  After dragging me into a windowless box, he chains me to a metal table like I'm some kind of serial killer instead of a guy who defended his girl.

  Honestly, the response to me over this is embarrassing.

  It was a few broken bones, not a massacre.

  “Sit your ass down,” he barks.

  I look up slowly, blinking at him.

  I’m already sitting—he can clearly see that—but sure. Whatever makes your dick hard, buddy.

  When the door finally opens after what feels like hours later, that familiar chuckle rolls through the room, and something in my chest unclenches.

  Relief.

  Actual, physical relief.

  “Guess you fucked up then.”

  “He deserved it.” I lean back as far as the chains allow. “Where the hell have you been?”

  Cain drops into the seat across from me. “I was handling business when Lucien called and said you’d gotten your ass thrown in here. Breaking bones in front of a crowd… very classy, by the way, real subtle.”

  “Fuck off. Where is he?”

  “Cleaning up.”

  “Whose mess?”

  “Mine, but I wanted to be the one who came for you.”

  “Cute.”

  “I missed your stupid fucking face.”

  “Can they hear?” I mutter, nodding toward the mirrored glass.

  “Nah.” Cain waves a hand dismissively. “You remember Vinny?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, you do. Vinny Ortiz. Dirty cop who had to relocate here after getting caught fucking a bunch of hookers in his last town?”

  “Is that the guy who was caught getting pegged?”

  “Yeah, and he paid extra for it. Imagine getting bent over and busted mid-fuck. That’s a rough fucking day.”

  We both laugh, and I realize just how much I’ve missed this asshole. We’ve seen each other plenty since I moved to New York, but not as often as I'd like.

  “So, do you know the damage to Lawson?” he asks.

  “I can guess… busted arm and leg, right?”

  “Yeah, and he lost teeth when he fell. You should see him right now.”

  “You’ve seen him?”

  “Fucking right I have. I laid out everything I had on him, which was way more than what Lucien handed over to you.”

  “What else was there?”

  “More of the same shit, some worse, some not as bad. But I told him, straight up, that I’d line up every woman he’s ever touched the wrong way, put them in front of a camera, and he’d be in prison, getting face-fucked by someone twice his size within a week.”

  “So what now?”

  “I have to fill out some paperwork, considering I’m your lawyer today, and then we’ll get you out of here.”

  “No comeback? No charges?”

  “Lawson begged me to keep my mouth shut. I said I’d consider it if he dropped everything—charges, lawsuits, press—like it never happened… although he’s firing Shannen from whatever she was doing for him.”

  “Have you spoken to her?”

  “Lucien did briefly.”

  “Is she okay?” I ask, but I knew the second they dragged me away what this would do to her.

  “He mainly spoke to her friend.”

  “Lianna?”

  “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure she gave him a fucking hard-on when she threatened him.”

  I almost laugh, but the relief hasn’t fully hit yet. “So seriously, nothing’s happening with this?”

  “There was no footage because you were in a room full of people who couldn’t live stream if their sagging asses depended on it. And the security cameras were magically wiped by Lucien before anyone could pull any evidence.”

  “There were a lot of witnesses.”

  “No one speaks up in that world if they’re told not to. Money and power talk louder than morality, and Lawson’s got enough of both to keep every mouth shut, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Thank you, brother. I won’t forget this.”

  Cain leans back in the chair, his blue eyes fixed on mine. “You’ve done more for me than I can ever repay, but I’m hoping I’m maybe on your level now.”

  I narrow my eyes, trying to read him as he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a gold band. He just holds it there for a second, watching my face before placing it down on the table.

  I know that ring.

  Not because I wore it, but because it split my cheek open more than once.

  I feel the shaking start in my hands before I even realize it’s happening. “Where is he?”

  “Gone.”

  “Don’t fuck with me right now.”

  “Listen to me… It’s done. He’s gone, and he isn’t coming back. Now you can live without that bastard hanging over you.”

  “Cain.”

  “It’s over, Phoenix. You deserve a life without anything else holding you back.”

  He killed him.

  My father’s dead.

  Fuck.

  I don’t know what I’m feeling.

  Gratitude? Fury? Some sick kind of jealousy? Because it should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one to finish it.

  “Is that where Lucien is?”

  “Yeah, I wanted to be the one to bring you the trophy, considering it was my work.”

  My hands are still cuffed, but I manage to pick up the ring, turning it over slowly. That’s when I see the dark droplets of blood on the inside.

  “You actually cut his finger off?”

  “Had to get the ring somehow, and he wasn’t exactly cooperative about taking it off himself.”

  “He was alive when you did it?”

  “Yep, it was funny, actually. I told him I was doing it for you, which was a real heartfelt moment for me because I knew how much this mattered to you. Then the prick looked me dead in the eye and called me a little bitch. So naturally, I cut off all of his fingers one by one, leaving him with this bloody little stump that looked like a chewed-up dick. I was almost pissing my pants because it looked weird as fuck, and he was just looking at it and screaming.”

  This motherfucker’s out of his mind, but he just freed me in ways I never knew I needed.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure you can, baby,” he says, grinning at me like a lunatic.

  “Did he say anything that sounded like… I don’t know, like he had any regrets?”

  “Nope.”

  “Really? Nothing?”

  “Not a fucking thing… Oh, he did squeal for his mom at the end.”

  “She’s dead.”

  “Maybe he was hallucinating. I mean, to be fair, I’d just taken off his other hand at the wrist and started beating the shit out of him with it. The asshole was covered in his own blood, and I figured if there was ever a time to let him experience being on the receiving end of his own fists, that was it. Poetic justice and all that.”

  I stare at him because what the actual fuck? “Wow. Yeah. Wow. I mean, you’re fucking crazy… but thank you.”

  “Anytime, brother. Now you can thank me by letting me meet your lady.”

  “Anything but that.”

  “What? Why the fuck not?”

  “Because you just beat a man to death with his own severed hands.”

  “So? That makes me interesting. Come on, I saved your ass today, the least you can do is introduce me to her.”

  “Fine, but don’t be weird.”

  “I’m not gonna be weird,” he says, offended as hell. “But if she finds me hotter than you, that’s not my fault.”

  “Never going to happen. Now get me out of here.”

  Chapter 27

  Shannen

  How many stages of grief are there?

  Because I’m pretty sure I’ve torn through all of them and invented a few new ones.

  I feel like I’m losing my mind.

  Where the fuck is everyone?

  No cops have shown up today. No calls. No questions. Nothing. Just silence, which somehow feels worse than being interrogated.

  Lianna is dealing with some kind of crisis at the club, and then she’s coming back, but where are Lucien and his brother? The ones who are supposed to be fixing this? They’re meant to be these fucking… I don’t even know what they’re meant to be. Hackers? Fixers? Involved in some dangerous shit? I don’t know, and it’s heading into the evening now, and there’s still no word on Phoenix.

  Before I can spiral completely, there's a knock at the door. I’m moving before my brain catches up, my heart lodged in my throat, while hope hits me stupidly fast. I wrench it open, but it’s not Phoenix.

  The guy standing in front of me could pass for him at a glance, if you weren’t looking too closely. Same height, same solid presence that fills the doorway. Dark hair, though not as dark as Phoenix’s. It’s more mid-brown, sun-kissed just the tiniest bit. Tattoos creep out from under his shirt sleeves, winding up his forearms, and a nose ring glints under the hall light.

  He’s definitely not police, and definitely not someone who knocked on the wrong door.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  He tilts his head, looking me over with an intensity that should make me uncomfortable but somehow doesn’t.

  “I’ve heard so much about you, Shannen.” That raspy voice is unmistakable. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “Lucien?”

  He smiles, just a little, and whatever fear I had drains out of me. I don’t know why, but I know if Phoenix trusts him, then I do too.

  “Can I come in?” I nod and open the door wider.

  I didn’t imagine him looking like this. He has that classic all-American boy look about him—strong jaw, perfect bone structure—but there’s something about him that doesn’t match the packaging.

  Pretty face or not, this is the kind of man mothers warn their daughters about.

  “Where’s Phoenix?”

  “Not with me.”

  “Clearly,” I bite back, and he spins to look at me. I sigh, drop onto the couch, and curl in on myself, pulling my knees tight to my chest. “I’m sorry. I haven’t slept, and no one’s telling me anything.”

  “We found him, and he’s okay.”

  That’s all it takes for my chest to cave in on itself, my breath hitching as I fight the urge to break down in front of him. He doesn’t exactly look like the kind of man who’d know what to do with a woman’s tears.

  “Where is he?”

  “Thankfully, he was banged up where we knew people who owed us a favor.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Okay, well, let’s go.” I shoot up from the couch, adrenaline replacing logic, but Lucien’s already stepping into my path like a wall.

  “Not necessary.”

  “What?”

  “We’re staying here.”

  “We’re absolutely fucking not.” I try to step around him, but he doesn’t budge.

  “We’re waiting here until I hear from my brother.”

  I want to tell him to go fuck himself.

  Instead, I slump back down on the couch, pissed off and completely powerless. He has the information, and all I have is this desperate need to see Phoenix with my own eyes.

  I can feel Lucien’s eyes on me, but I refuse to look up until I watch him drop down onto the couch across from me.

  “So… you’ve known Phoenix for a long time.”

  “Not as long as you have. But yeah.”

  “He told me about you and your brother. He said you’re the closest thing to family he’s had all these years.”

  “He’s as much a brother to me as Cain is. I’d trust him with my life.”

  “And he trusts you with his.”

  “Correct.”

  The front door suddenly flies open with a bang, and Lianna storms in, kicking her heels off and shrugging her jacket down her arms when her eyes land on Lucien sprawled on my couch. She stops mid-strip, one arm still caught in her sleeve.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  Lucien stands, letting out a quiet chuckle as he closes the distance between them.

  “I’m the guy with his finger up his brother’s ass.”

  “Lucien.”

  “Lianna Monroe…” He draws out her name once again, rolling it around on his tongue like he's testing how it sounds.

  “Can you stop saying my name like that? It’s weird.”

  “No. I like it.”

  Her eyes narrow into slits, looking like she’s two seconds away from slapping the pretty right off his face. But I know her. I know her type, and an annoyingly perfect face with a dangerous confidence that only comes from being too fuckable for his own good is absolutely it.

  “Okay, whatever. You do you.”

  She brushes past him and sits down beside me on the couch while Lucien tracks her movement the way a wolf watches a rabbit that doesn’t know it’s already been marked for the kill.

  “They found Phoenix,” I tell her, and the shift in her is immediate. She sits forward, spine straight, every ounce of that fuck-you attitude twisting into something lethal.

  “Where is he?”

  “We’re waiting,” I say, widening my eyes in a silent Don’t look at me. I’m just as in the dark as you.

  “Waiting for what? The other brother to show up with his fingers up his own ass? No, fuck that. I want to know where Phoenix is right now.”

  Seconds pass as they lock into this silent stare-off, neither willing to back down, neither willing to look away first, when more knocking cuts through the tension brewing between them. I sigh and resign myself to not knowing a goddamn thing about what’s happening or whether Phoenix is really okay when Lucien stops me from answering it by moving toward the door himself.

  Is he serious?

  I’m two seconds from saying something when the door flies open, and I hear three words that kick my heart back into rhythm. “Where is she?”

  Phoenix.

  He bursts through the door, and I’m in his arms in under a second. The impact nearly sends us both crashing to the floor, but I don’t care. My arms wrap around him, holding him so tight I can’t breathe, can’t think, or do anything but pull him deeper into my body.

  “Baby,” he whispers into my hair, and I completely fall apart in his arms, not caring who sees, because right now, all that matters is that he’s here.

  I pull back, my hands gripping his face, and anger surges through me. Not anger at him, but at the gun pointed at his head and the way those bastards dragged him away from me while I stood there helpless.

  “Don’t ever fucking do that to me again,” I choke out, tears streaming down my face faster than I can stop them. “Jesus Christ, I was so scared. You don’t ever do anything that takes you away from me again. Do you understand?”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’m right here.” His hands frame my face, his thumbs brushing away my tears. “I’m not going anywhere. I swear to god, I’ll never leave you again. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

  Somewhere in the background, I hear Lianna’s voice: “Did you know he was on the way here?”

  She’s speaking to Lucien, but all I can do is stare at Phoenix.