I let go of the chain, standing with my hands out at my sides, like I might get some of it me if I move as Pony’s body crashes forward to the floor, the length of the chain following his weight, unthreading itself from the pulleys and pooling over his body in a noisy clatter.

  I’m frozen between revulsion and humor as I take in the corpse in front of me. Face down, ass up, severed dick only inches away from his open eyes.

  Revulsion wins out, and I wipe my hands repeatedly down my chest. Trying to brush away the grossness of it all.

  A sound, like the start of my name, draws my attention to the doorway.

  Nero is standing there, hand on the door handle, mouth open in a disgusted frown, eyes narrowed on Pony’s form in disbelief.

  I straighten my shoulders, pretending like I’m fine with it all. “Shut your mouth, you look like a Muppet.”

  Nero slowly moves his gaze over to meet mine. “You cut his dick off.”

  My head tips side to side. “Technically, that’s true. But it wasn’t the plan.”

  Nero scrunches his nose. “And it smells like sex in here because…?”

  “Because my wife is cooler than yours.”

  Nero’s eyes move back to Pony. “I don’t think I want to know.”

  “Uh, ew.” I gesture to the body and growing pool of blood beneath it. “This was after.”

  Nero turns to head up the stairs. “I don’t want to know.”

  “Dude,” I follow him up. “It’s not like we fucked on top of Pony.”

  “I said I don’t––”

  “We just fucked in front of him.”

  Nero throws his hands up. “I don’t want to know!”

  CHAPTER 77

  Savannah

  I press my lips together as I watch King stop halfway between where I am in his SUV and the front door of the junkyard building.

  He’d been striding toward me, ready to take me home, but one of the guys standing with Nero next to the building just called him back.

  I watch King’s chest expand with an inhale, before he turns back to the man who has a phone pressed to his ear.

  King told me not to overthink what happened. So, I haven’t.

  Because if I do… Nope. See? Not even going there.

  And I’m also not going to wonder what he was doing in there while I was out here waiting.

  You know what he was doing. He was killing that man.

  But King asked me to do something else. He asked me to trust him.

  And I do.

  So I will.

  Which is why I’m sitting here, with my hands in my lap, while I watch the group of men talk in the dark.

  Nero says something, but King shakes his head, pointing at one of the guys I don’t know.

  Something is wrong.

  King breaks away, but instead of heading to the driver’s door, he comes to mine.

  I locked the doors once I got in, so I hit the control to unlock them now. And as soon as King pulls the door open, I reach out for him, grabbing the open front of his shirt.

  “What’s wrong.”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

  I pull a little on his shirt. “It’s not nothing.”

  He stands there, watching me, and I can see the moment he decides to share. And watching him choose to trust me back feels even bigger than what we just did together.

  His hands close over mine. “Someone set the gallery on fire.”

  My brows furrow. “The gallery? You mean Mandi and Orlando’s gallery?”

  He nods. “No one was there, so no one was hurt. But I want to go check it out.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it feels personal, and I want to see it.”

  I swallow. What if we’re the reason that happened?

  “I’m coming with you,” I tell King, but he’s already shaking his head.

  “No.”

  “But––”

  “No, Savannah.” He grabs my chin, which seems to be his new favorite move. “You are not coming. You’re going to the house.” I try to argue, but he pushes my chin up, closing my mouth. “This is part of trusting me. You’re in it with me now, Baby. And there’s no going back. But you need to do what I say when it comes to your safety. You can bitch at me any other time, and we can argue, and sometimes you‘ll win. But not when it comes to keeping you safe.” His grip loosens. “Tell me you’ll listen.”

  “I’ll listen.”

  “Good.” King lets go of me completely and steps back, my hands finally dropping from his shirt. “Rocco will drive you home.” Just as he says it, another black SUV pulls up next to us.

  King moves to the rear door and opens it for me.

  I hesitate, glancing at the driver’s profile.

  “He’s Nero’s second. He’s solid. And he knows that he, and everyone he’s ever met, would die a horrible, painful death if anything happened to you while he’s in charge.”

  I swear I see the guy shake his head, like this isn’t the first time he’s been threatened by his bosses, and it makes me feel a little more comfortable.

  “So, is the whole kill everyone you know threat just your usual go-to? I thought I was special.” I try not to smile as I tease my husband.

  King narrows his eyes, “Get in the other vehicle, Savannah.”

  He said he’d be right behind me. But based on how far away the gallery is from here, he’s gonna be at least another thirty minutes.

  Covering another yawn, I decide to stop fighting sleep.

  I’ve already changed back into my pajamas I took off when King woke me up a few hours ago. And I don’t care if the sun is going to rise in an hour. I pulled the blackout curtains shut in preparation for my plan to sleep through most of the day.

  Leaving the side lamp on for King, I pull back the covers and climb into bed.

  My body is aching in all the right ways, and I settle onto the mattress with thoughts of my husband floating through my mind.

  CHAPTER 78

  King

  Even in the dark, I can see that smoke is still rising from the roof of the small building.

  With a sigh, I slow to a stop and park along the curb at the end of the block. It’s not like I thought our guy was lying, but part of me was hoping that maybe it was just a little fire. Some outlet catching.

  A pair of firetrucks are still parked outside the building, along with other emergency vehicles, but all the lights are off, and the fire is out, so clearly the main event is over.

  I take the time to finally button up my shirt as I exit my Suburban and do a quick glance at my hands for blood.

  Pony’s pants kept the initial blood spray pretty under wraps, and I don’t see anything on me, so I’m calling it good.

  I head toward two firefighters who are leaning against the back of one of the trucks chatting.

  The taller one spots me first, and he stands up straight. “You can’t go in there.”

  I glance at the brick building covered in char marks, with all the windows broken out, and an interior that’s unrecognizable from a few days ago, and lift a brow. “No, shit.” I don’t stop until I’m right in front of them, then I hold out my hand. “King Vass.”

  I don’t often name drop, but most people in this city have at least heard of me, and it opens mouths.

  “Oh, hey.” They both shake my hand. “Did you own the place?”

  I debate saying yes, just to speed it along, but it’d be a stupid lie to get caught up in.

  “No,” I slide my hands into my pockets, staying casual. “But my wife just had an art show here and she’s friends with the owners. Told me to come make sure everything is okay. You know how wives are.”

  When Guy Two rolls his eyes, followed by a derogatory muttering of women, I have to remind myself that it won’t be worth it to punch a firefighter in the face.

  “Mine’s the same way,” Guy One says with a nod. “But there was no one here, so no one got hurt. And, as far as we can tell, the place was empty. No signs of art, or whatever, in the place. Which is good for the insurance companies.”

  I grunt, “That’s good. Any clue how it started?”

  “Arson.” Guy Two rocks back on his heels.

  “You can tell already?”

  “Yeah. Whoever did it, didn’t try to make it look like anything other than arson.” When I lift my brows, he continues. “Best we can tell so far, the guy, or whoever, poured gasoline around the exterior of the building, flooded the floor inside with it, and even splashed it around the doorways. Then,” he points to the building adjacent to the gallery, “he pours a line of gasoline all the way to the far side over there. Presumably that’s where he was when he lit the trail. Probably trying to protect himself behind the other building in case the ignition blew something up. But everything was electric in the place, no natural gas appliances or anything like that. So it would’ve been intense, and hot, but no explosions.”

  Something…

  Something he’s saying…

  I take a step back.

  “Yo, you alright?”

  I nod, even as I take another step away. “Yeah. Thanks for the info.”

  Gasoline around the doorway.

  Why is that fucking familiar?

  A dark feeling swirls in my gut and I turn and stride back to my vehicle, climbing in and starting it before I’ve even shut the door.

  I pull a U-turn and head toward home as I dial Nero.

  “What’d you find?” he answers.

  “Do you remember a guy that would torch buildings by lining the perimeter and doorways with gasoline?”

  “Shit, that sounds…” Nero is quiet for a long second. “Are you talking about The Hand?”

  The Hand.

  Donnie O’Reilly.

  Nicknamed for his preference of strangling.

  It all slams back into my memory. The Irish piece of shit that worked for the same family as I did, before Nero and I wiped them out, along with the Russians, to form The Alliance.

  He was a psychotic bastard. About my age, grandson of the Boss, and second in line for taking over as head of the family. He was full of entitlement and evil as they come.

  “Did we not kill him?” Nero questions.

  I shake my head as I accelerate down the road. “Asshole was arrested two days before our hit, for killing a family of four. And I think he burned their house down, just like this. Which is why it felt familiar. But he’s in prison. He got a fucking life sentence, no parole.”

  “Hold on,” Nero starts typing on something.

  “He’s in prison,” I repeat.

  “Fuck,” Nero’s curse chills my blood and dread fills me, because I know what he’s going to say. “He’s out.”

  I press the gas pedal all the way to floor. “How?!”

  Nero is moving too, filling the line with noise. “Technicality. Evidence thrown out.”

  “I didn’t put any alerts on his name because he was supposed to be in prison until he died. Fucking stupid! And why the hell would he torch…”

  I trail off, the weight of the world pressing against my chest.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” Nero says through the line.

  Volcanic rage flows through my veins, pushed through by fear.

  “Savannah.” I can hardly get her name out. Can hardly make myself say it.

  He’s going after Savannah.

  This madman is going after my family, because I murdered his.

  “Right behind you.” Nero’s words remind me that I’m the closest.

  That I’m the one who needs to save her.

  CHAPTER 79

  Savannah

  The floor creaks and I let out a sleepy moan.

  I can hear King on his side of the bed, finally home.

  I turn my head, and slit my eyes open, but he’s already turned off the lamp I left on for him.

  Good, he plans to sleep for a while too.

  There’s a faint smell of gasoline, and I remember he went to the gallery to find out what happened with the fire.

  I blink into the dark, trying to wake myself up. “Was everything okay?”

  King doesn’t answer, but I feel the mattress shift as he climbs into bed.

  And that’s when I hear it.

  Duke’s frantic barking from outside.

  CHAPTER 80

  King

  “Open the fucking gate!”

  They can’t hear me.

  They can’t hear fucking anything, because none of the phones are fucking working!

  I lay on the horn, flashing my lights as I race toward the end of my driveway.

  I’ve been trying to call everyone. Savannah, Benedict, the gate house, the staff house, and nothing has gone through. I had Nero try too but it’s jammed. The fucker found a way to jam the cell service on my property.

  Because he’s here.

  I roll my window down and wave my arm out. Shouting the whole time.

  They finally recognize my SUV, and the gate starts rolling open.

  I barely slow. Barely make the turn into the driveway.

  When the house comes into view, I see men running toward a panicked Duke.

  And fear, like I’ve never known before, stabs me right in the heart.

  If I’m too late…

  Please don’t let me be too late.

  CHAPTER 81

  Savannah

  My eyes are starting to adjust, so I see the shadow of King’s hand as he reaches out for me.

  But when he touches my bare arm, something doesn’t feel right.

  “King?”

  The touch is searching, like he’s trying to figure out what part of my arm he’s grabbing.

  And then I notice it. The texture. The leather. The glove.

  “What…”

  The hand locks down on my arm, hard.

  Before I can scream, I’m being dragged across the mattress.

  I struggle.

  I try to shove the man away, but it’s still too dark. And I can’t…

  Something slams into my cheek and my head blooms with pain.

  “Don’t worry, pretty girl,” a male voice I don’t recognize laughs, “I’m only here to kill you.”

  I thought King taught me the meaning of fear.

  I thought I knew what it meant to be afraid.

  But I was wrong.

  Because terror swallows me, and it’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before.

  I’m going to die.

  A second gloved hand grabs at my neck.

  This man is going to kill me.

  He starts to squeeze and my eyes widen.

  “No!” I choke on the word as he lets go of my arm to put his second hand around my neck.

  All sense leaves me, and I claw at his arms as I try to push them away.

  But he’s too strong.

  His leverage is too great.

  I blink through the tears that are streaming from my eyes.

  I don’t want to cry anymore.

  HE’S GOING TO KILL YOU, SAVANNAH! FOCUS!

  I blink again, trying to figure out how he’s so tall.

  Black spots start to form in my vision.

  My throat hurts so bad.

  He’s over me.

  You’re running out of time.

  I’m on my back. My legs are kicking, but there’s nothing there. The man’s not down there.

  Hurry!

  I kick my leg out to the side and find that the edge of the mattress is just inches away.

  He pulled me to the edge and he’s kneeling over me.

  HURRY!

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I press my feet flat to the mattress, and slide them up, as close to my butt as I can get.

  My lungs are crying.

  My neck feels like it’s breaking.

  My soul is screaming.

  “It’ll be over in a second,” the voice whispers into the dark.

  But I won’t accept that.

  Not now when I have everything I’ve ever wanted.

  Not now that I have King.

  With all my might, I push up with my thighs, using all of my strength.

  My lower body lifts, and I twist, rolling toward the edge of the bed.

  My weight pushes against the man’s knees and he’s forced to let go of my neck to windmill his arms. But it’s not enough to stop what I’ve started.

  My vision is fighting to come back as we both topple over the edge of the bed.

  He lands first, on his back, and I fall, half on top of him.

  Nausea fills me, from the lack of oxygen and from being this close to his body, but I don’t have time to feel sick.

  I don’t have time for anything.

  Shoving myself up, I elbow him, as hard as I can, in his stomach. It might not be the most effective body part to hit, but it’s right there.

  He grunts, and I buy myself a split second to roll away from him.

  But my legs are tangled in the blanket.

  “Fucking bitch,” he hisses, and I feel the blanket being pulled back towards him, dragging me with.

  I want to scream, but I’m still struggling to breathe.

  My throat feels like it’s full of broken glass.

  My palms find purchase on the hard floor, and as he tugs harder on the blanket, trying to draw me closer, he unwittingly frees me.

  Hands on the floor, I scramble until I can get my feet underneath me.

  Then I’m running.

  I’m running as fast as I can out of my bedroom. Using memory to guide me through the dark house.

  I can hear Duke outside.

  Why is Duke outside?

  Heavy footsteps land in the hallway behind me.

  Sadness swamps me.

  It’s so much like that first morning, when I ran from King. Except it’s nothing like that at all.

  Because King caught me when I fell.

  Because King promised to keep me safe.

  But he’s not here.

  King’s not here to save me.

  “You’re going to regret that!” The man’s voice is so close.