I rolled my eyes. "Darce, I don't dance, not in public anyway."

  And then my wife was there grabbing my other hand, determined to pull me out onto the dance floor. Neither one of them knew this was for their safety, not mine.

  "Darce, you have your friends here. Go dance with them."

  Several tween girls were crowded on the dance floor, eyeing Liam and Alex up and down. The lads were not looking, but that didn't stop the girls from giggling.

  "I want to dance with my brother. And it is my birthday."

  I laughed. "Oh, Darce. I love you. Fine. One dance. Be prepared to be amazed. I mean, honestly, I'm going to wow you. Knock your socks off."

  Then I let them drag me onto the dance floor, and for the first time in a long time, I was happy. Well and truly happy.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Emma

  Darcy looked happy. Really damned happy for a teenager, and that was saying something. Because good Lord, it's so hard to please teens.

  But, that look on Darcy's face said it all as she jumped around in a circle with her friends, screaming the lyrics to whatever the hell horrid song this was. I wasn’t sure what it was, Billy Bieber or whatever the fuck, it made me want to call my mother and apologize over and over for the bullshit I put her through with my music choices.

  I glanced around the crowd looking for Bridge, but I didn't see him. Was he dealing with the caterer? He wanted to add a special message to her on the cake.

  Oh, whatever. I'd locate him later. Telly came running over drunkenly. "Oh my God, I haven't had this much fun in ages. Who knew tweens know how to party?”

  "Telly, do you even know this song?"

  "Yeah, her name is Candy Lane."

  I just stared at my friend like she was an alien. How did she know the latest pop sensation? "That's not a real name."

  "It is. She's the latest Britpop sensation. Don't you listen to Radio 1?"

  I groaned. "Yes, but I feel like I'm forever in a rut. How is it I don't know the cool things? I’m supposed to be the cool one."

  Telly shook her head. "You have been replaced. Ousted. Now we'll be running to Darcy for all the latest tunes."

  "I'm young; I'm fresh; I know what's what."

  "You're still listening to Ed Sheeran, aren't you?"

  "What the fuck is wrong with Ed Sheeran? I like Ed Sheeran."

  She cackled and ran off.

  I searched the crowd again. Darcy was looking at her phone, and then she appeared to head for the exit.

  No, not the exit, actually. That was the back stairs. Where was she going? The loo was the other way.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask East to pull her up on Bird’s Eye, but I knew how intrusive that was, and it was her birthday. I would just double-check that she didn't need anything, and then I would go back to enjoying the party. I wasn't going to worry about her. She didn't need me acting overprotective like Bridge. She needed me to be the cool sister.

  Except now you're sort of her mom.

  Oh God, nobody would want me to be their mom.

  Except… The thought of baby Cara did turn my insides to mush.

  Her sweet little face and the way she'd wrapped her arms around Bridge made something deep inside me want a chance at that. God, we were ridiculous. We'd figure it out one day.

  I dragged my attention back to Darcy. If there was one thing I'd learned in the last year, it was to listen to my instincts. Maybe she was upset? Did one of these teenage ingrates piss her off?

  If they’d ruined her birthday, I swear to God I was going to kill somebody.

  I laughed just thinking about the number of times my mother banned someone from my house for good as a teenager. All because of some stupid girl drama which inevitably revolved around some boy drama.

  God, but mum always had my back. Even when maybe I was the cause of the drama, she was always there. I still remembered this one girl, Sarah. I'd done a presentation in front of the whole school, and the ingrate who’d had the nerve to call herself my friend did not congratulate me. Instead, she'd been all, "Oh, I don't really get it." I could still hear her, just standing there ready to rain on my parade. Ugh.

  When I finally reached the doors to the back stairs and pushed them open, I couldn't find her.

  Where the hell had she gone?

  Then when I heard the clanging of the fire door, my heart started to beat faster and faster.

  I texted Bridge. Hey, where are you? Is Darcy with you?

  He texted back. Yep, I'm on the roof with her. Can you join us?

  What the hell were they doing on the roof? I wondered if he had some surprise for her that I didn’t know about.

  Darcy, sensibly, had worn combat boots with her fancy dress. I didn't understand teen fashion, but whatever. I was in heels. Therefore, I was taking the goddamn service elevator instead of the stairs.

  I hit the button and typed in my keypad access for the roof, and the door slowly closed. I texted Bridge again. Jesus, what is this, a special surprise?

  There was no responding text back.

  It took a minute but when the elevator finally dinged and opened, the wind whipped around me, sending a chill straight through me.

  Oh my God. I was going to kill my husband. What made him think the roof was a good idea for a surprise?

  When I turned the corner, I expected to find Bridge showing off some kind of special surprise for Darcy. A giant present, or hell, a helicopter ride over the city with a friend I didn't know. Instead what I found was Darcy, held at gunpoint by Francis Middleton. He turned to me with a smile.

  "You know what's amazing? You can pay anyone to pinch something for you. One of the waiters walked right by your husband and nicked his phone for me. It’s proven very handy in getting the two of you up here."

  I knew we were in trouble. And no one knew where we were.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Emma

  I teetered in my heels on the roof. “Well, Francis, we’re here, just like you wanted. What do you hope to accomplish exactly?”

  “You think you’re so smart? None of this would be happening if you had just followed the rules.”

  “You’re unhinged. And honestly, I do feel bad for you. Your father, the Elite, everything you knew. It’s over. You have nothing left.”

  “That’s because you took it from me.”

  “Did I take it, or is it a direct result of all the people you killed? All the women.”

  Being this close to him made my skin crawl.

  Next to me, Darcy shifted on her feet.

  “Send her here.”

  I wasn’t dumb enough to think that he couldn’t do her serious harm. At the end of the day, my goal was to protect Darcy. Things had gotten a little out of hand, but I could fix this.

  “If you had just listened to me, come to Barcelona without him, none of this would be happening.”

  I nodded slowly, meanwhile trying to shove Darcy behind me. But she wasn’t moving. Her gaze was fixed on the gun in front of us. Which was fair.

  “If I’d come to Barcelona alone like you wanted, would you have murdered me?”

  “It’s not murder. I’m freeing them. Don’t you understand?”

  I shook my head slowly. “I know what you think you’re doing. But what if they didn’t want to be freed? What if they just wanted to live?”

  I had to get us off the damn roof. I was not going to have another Drew situation. Bridge and the others wouldn’t survive if Darcy was gone. We couldn’t lose someone else.

  “You don’t know anything."

  I took a step forward, and Darcy stepped forward as well. “Darcy, stop it. I’m going. It’s fine.”

  She shook her head. “No. You can’t trust him. If you go, I go.”

  “What? You’re insane, Darcy. Chill, okay? I will handle this. You go inside.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. You sacrifice, I sacrifice. Double whammy, two for one.”

  “Let’s talk this over, Francis. You have nowhere to go. If you hurt me, he hurts you.”

  “Yes, but then I’ve taken something from him. My whole life, my father was weak. And then when I was thirteen, I found out he wasn’t my dad at all. Instead, my father was someone else completely different. And he was going to groom me to be one of the most powerful men in London. And my supposed father was afraid of him.”

  "You're doing this to get back at your family?"

  "Shut up. Every time Lord Middleton looked at me, he knew that there was something off. He sent me to Danbury when I was eleven after he found that dog. To be fair, that dog barked all the bloody time. I was doing all the neighbors a service, you see.”

  My stomach roiled. “I hear you. I get it. What do you want?”

  “I want Edgerton to feel pain. Everything he has should’ve been mine. Everything. How the fuck was it that he ended up a bloody fucking billionaire? How was it every time he turned around, women came to him willingly? I had to coerce them. I’m handsome, rich, but no one ever wanted to stay. All I heard was how much they wanted to be free, how much they wanted to leave. So I made them leave permanently.”

  “That must have been difficult. But again, what do you want in this scenario? I can’t let you kill Darcy or me. You have nowhere to go.”

  “Yes, I do. You come to me and we die together, or I’ll kill her.”

  I swallowed hard and then just shoved Darcy back. “Now. You have me. I’m coming right to you. Darcy, get off the roof.”

  “I’m not. Sorry.”

  I moved faster toward Middleton as she tugged on me, pulling me back. “You go, I go.”

  “Darcy, Jesus Christ, for a thirteen-year-old, you’re remarkably strong and ridiculously stubborn. Just get off the goddamn—“

  Middleton lunged at her and grabbed her around the waist. She screamed. He dropped his gun, and grabbed both of us around the waist. He was moving quickly toward the ledge.

  Oh, motherfucker. There was no way. I fought his hold, delivering an elbow toward the back, trying to make contact with his temple. He ducked it, trying to bury his face in the back of my head. I pulled my head forward and shot it directly back.

  All I heard was his yell. Darcy elbowed him in the gut, and then he collapsed, writhing on the ground.

  Darcy grabbed my hand. “Come on.”

  She didn’t have to tell me twice. I stumbled after her, pausing to grab the gun. That’s when Middleton grabbed my ankle, and I tumbled forward, losing the gun over the ledge. I had to put my arms out to brace myself to keep my face from making contact with the cement. I turned, and he shuffled and lunged for me.

  Darcy tried to shove at him, but he placed a hand around her neck. She clawed desperately at his fingers. I delivered a back hammer fist to his throat, and he coughed, releasing her. Darcy stumbled backward, crab-walking away from him, and I could tell she was trying to decide what to do.

  She lunged at him again. He was going to send me over.

  "Bitches," he spat. He wrapped his hands around my neck, squeezing, the pressure so hard I couldn’t breathe. I felt like my eyeballs were going to pop out of my skull.

  Darcy had stood, clawing at him. Trying to grab his hair to dislodge him from choking me.

  “Darcy, move.”

  When I saw that she wasn’t going to and my vision started to gray, I had no other choice. I raised my right arm over my head and then twisted my body slightly, bringing down my arm, dropping as much of my body weight as I could into my hips. And then I jerked my arm back, delivering an elbow to his temple.

  When he lunged at me again, I did the only thing I could. I grabbed onto his lapels and propelled my hips upward, leveraging my knee against his chest. And I heaved.

  I heard material making that flap, flap, flap, sound on the wind, a masculine yell, and then silence.

  Darcy crawled into my lap. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought it was Bridge who texted me.”

  I nodded. I tried to tell her it was okay, to say something to make it all better. But I couldn’t. The choking probably burned my throat. All I could do was wrap my arms around her, tucking her head into my chest and holding her tight. She had survived. We had survived. The door to the roof banged open, and Bridge ran toward us with his gun raised. “Where is he? What happened?”

  Still unable to speak, I hitched my thumb toward the ledge.

  Bridge kneeled next to me. “It seems I owe you twice for saving my sister.”

  He wrapped his arms around the both of us and dropped his chin to the top of my head as he sat with us, body sagged protectively over the both of us.

  Darcy sniffled. “This time I tried to save her.”

  I still couldn’t talk. It hurt too much. The exhaustion weighed on me. But it was over. It was all finally over.

  Chapter Fifty

  Emma

  The doorbell rang unexpectedly, and Bridge looked up from stealing the sausages on my plate to frown at me. "Who's that?"

  "I don't know. Don't you have security to tell you who's coming up the drive?"

  He frowned and then patted his pockets down for his phone. "Oh yeah, I think I left my phone in the car."

  "You've been home all this time and haven't had your phone?" I stared at him incredulously. Normally he was attached to his phone.

  "No, I have been focused on my beautiful wife because we haven't had enough time together."

  I shook my head at that. "Flattery, sir, will get you everywhere."

  "I'm so glad to hear you say that because I was hoping it would get me in your pants later."

  "Maybe I'm trying to get in your pants."

  "My god. Yes. One hundred percent." He sank to his knees.

  With a giggle, I swatted his groping hands away. "You should probably get the door first."

  He frowned. "Fine. Whatever."

  He grabbed another sausage, and I screamed out, "Hey!"

  It was several more moments before I heard muffled voices by the door. And then a few moments after that, Bridge, was back in the kitchen with someone in tow.

  "Emma."

  My eyes went wide. "DI Strickland. How are you?"

  "I'm well." He glanced around. "Nice house."

  "Yeah. We’ve just moved back in."

  "Right. It was good of you to lay low. Where were you before?"

  I gave him a beatific smile, and all I could hear was Bridge's chuckle.

  "Unfortunately, Detective Inspector, we have her trained far too well. She can't tell you that."

  The Detective Inspector nodded and gave us a smile. "Was it as nice as this place?"

  Bridge laughed and shrugged. "Yes. How can we help you?"

  "Can we sit down?"

  I pointed him to the island and then scrambled to the cabinet to grab him a bowl. "I made some andouille pasta. Join us."

  He shook his head, but I could hear his stomach grumbling. I slid him a glance. "You will sit and eat."

  He frowned at me. "I don't remember you being quite so assertive, Emma."

  "Well, then you are remembering inaccurately."

  Bridge just chuckled at that and shoved me out of the way so that he could serve the DI. I grabbed him a drink. "Tell us what's going on?"

  He sighed. "Well, I wanted to give you an update. I didn't mean to ruin your dinner."

  I waved my hand. "Mr. Cast Iron Stomach here grew up in kitchens all over London. He can't have a sensitive stomach. And I, well, I'm nosy, so I'm willing to take the risk."

  He nodded. "Right. First, I wanted to share my condolences with you about Mr. Wilcox’s death.”

  Bridge paused mid-serve and nodded his thanks.

  I did the same. "Thank you. He was a good friend."

  He nodded. "About those files you retrieved from Francis Middleton. My team and I have started digging into them, and there is some valuable information that we did not have before, and we have some answers, at least about Helena Price."

  Bridge handed him his bowl and then walked over to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and gently massaging the small of my back. “Did you find her?"

  He nodded slowly. "We found her in Barcelona. There was a flat there registered to Franklin Edgerton. We obviously didn't even know that name was a possibility until we received your notes. He kept an apartment there that had a sound proof room. We were too late."

  My stomach dropped. "How late were we?"

  He shook his head. "Several weeks. There wasn't anything we could do."

  "Have you told Mr. Price already?"

  He nodded. "He was the first one we notified. He did not seem surprised."

  "I couldn't ever figure him out. Obviously, he knew Middleton was up to something. Why didn't he just tell us?"

  Strickland shrugged. "My guess is Middleton probably threatened the little girl. Over the last several weeks, she's been able to remember more details about Middleton, threats he made toward her."

  "That poor thing," I said. "She's going to need a lot of help to get over all of this."

  "Yes. I suspect she will. But there's more."

  Bridge rubbed the back of his neck. "Why did I know that you were going to say there was more?"

  Strickland shrugged. "Yeah, sorry this isn't good news, is it?" He pulled his phone out, made a couple of taps, and then started scrolling as he read. "There's a lot more. Helena Price is just the latest name on a disturbingly long list. As far as we can tell, she was his last victim. The information from the hospital led us to several others. Between the teacher up at Eton and Victoria, we suspect at least five more."

  Bridge cursed under his breath. "Jesus fucking Christ."

  "Yeah. After Francis’s death, we picked up your father. He's been more cooperative."

  I couldn't help it. A shuddering breath escaped. "He was a complete madman."

  Strickland shrugged. "Usually I like to avoid labeling suspects and/or victims. But in this case, I think madman suits. He was a serial killer."

  I shivered, and Bridge shifted his hands so that they wrapped around my arms and he slowly stroked me, warming me up. "And he intended to get Emma, didn't he?"