Page 12 of Black Hearts
“Probably not,” Will agreed. He flexed his hands into fists, staring down at them. “I hope we get to kill him. Can we? I mean, we might have to in order to get Juliet out of there.” I could tell he was trying to hide his excitement over the prospect, but he was failing quite miserably. It’d been a while since Will had tasted blood; being locked up in the basement during the last wave had meant he hadn’t had his fill lately.
Neither had I. Markus had relegated me to the background, no better than Bennet, really. All because he was pissed at me for loving Juliet.
Come to think of it, nothing in the house had been the same lately. Markus had been acting out of his fucking mind when it came to Juliet—not something I could blame him for, but at the same time, wasn’t he chosen to rule over the family because he was not emotional? Because he was distant and cold and always made sure the job got done? Juliet had changed everything for him. I’d seen the man I thought cold and emotionless lose himself to rage more than once.
But there had to be more to it, otherwise I didn’t think Juliet would’ve fallen for him. No, there had to be more to Markus when he was alone with Juliet, more emotion. More desire. Just… more, and that was certainly a hard pill to swallow.
How could he claim to care for her and then do what he did? Yes, I understood he wanted control, but look at where we all were now. If there was a flashing neon sign hanging above the Scott estate that stated Markus had officially lost all control, I still didn’t think it would be enough.
Nothing was the same, and it would never be the same again, thanks to Juliet. I only prayed we were able to bring her back with us, save her from her father for good and never let her go again. She was mine, ours, and I’d be damned if I stood on the sidelines and watched life take her from me.
The drive was obscenely long. So long that with every passing hour, I felt my nerves fry more and more. The others had fallen into states of silence, and I had tried to turn on the radio, but nothing caught my attention—probably because I was too worried, too anxious over getting Juliet back.
What if we got there too late? What if, no matter what plan we used, we were just too late to save her? I wouldn’t put it past Fred to kill her; sometimes people were beyond help. We had been molded, trained into being what we were today, but Fred? Fred went on instinct, and if there was one thing I knew about people like him, it’s that they used whatever excuse they could to explain away their crimes. As mad or as nonsensical as those excuses were, they believed them wholeheartedly.
What kind of excuse was Fred going to use with Juliet? Surely she’d bring it up to him, ask him about what he got up to while he was gone. In the beginning, Juliet might’ve been meek enough to not question him, but now? Now she’d grown into herself, become stronger. Now she knew what was right and what was wrong, and she’d seen the horrors her father was capable of. She’d ask, but what he’d tell her, I had no idea.
When we arrived in the city that Fred lived in, I called Rave. He picked up much quicker this time. “Jax,” he said, and I heard him toying with a lighter. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” He waited a moment, barely letting his deadpanned question hit my ears before adding, “I’m shitting you. I’m down the street from the house. Fred brought your girl home and hasn’t left again.”
Pretty much what I thought would happen.
“We’re a few minutes away. See you soon.” I hung up the phone, glancing at Will. Bennet had leaned forward, sticking his head in between the seats. “She’s there with Fred now. I figure we’ll touch base with Rave, then maybe grab a motel somewhere close by while we figure out the plan.”
“How did you bust in when you took her in the first place?” Bennet asked.
“Fred wasn’t there, and Juliet was oblivious, so I had a lot less to worry about,” I told him. “I lockpicked the back door. We can go in that way again, but no matter which way we decide, there are risks.” We needed to discuss which plan was the least risky, because I wasn’t going to put Juliet in harm’s way more than she already was.We had to be one hundred percent sure. We’d only have one go.
I turned us onto a small side street, and almost immediately I spotted Rave’s parked car on the side of the road. It was a residential area, though I wouldn’t go so far as to call it a nice place to live. The houses all looked like they’d seen better days, and there was hardly any privacy between lots. Rave wasn’t parked directly in front of the Osborne house; he was a few houses down, sitting in his car, smoking a cigarette.
Parking behind him, I reached for a pair of sunglasses I had tucked away against the visor, slipping them on. Big, shiny, reflective aviators. I turned my head toward Will and Bennet. “Wait here.” The last thing we needed was for Fred to drive somewhere and see a whole group of men hanging around.
I got out of the car, strolled up to Rave’s, and leaned down against the window. Cracked an inch, I bet the inside of that car was so full of smoke it smelled burnt. I tapped on the window when Rave didn’t look in my direction.
He turned his head toward me, his lips curled around a cigarette. The corners of those lips smiled, and he hit the button, rolling down the window, and a big cloud of smoke hit me in the face.
“Excuse me, sir, I’m pretty sure there’s no solicitation here,” he remarked, plucking the cigarette from his mouth. A man in his late twenties, he was Markus’s brother by blood, not a half-sibling as most of the Scotts were. He had the same black hair and black eyes as Markus, the same tall frame—only he wasn’t built like a mountain. Lean and strong, but not intimidatingly so.
Plus, unlike Markus, Rave had a sense of humor… even if it was dry sometimes.
When I gave him a frown, he huffed, “Jeez. Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Or maybe your cereal was pissed in—that’s another saying, isn’t it?” The more he talked, the harder I glared. He finally got the hint that his jokes weren’t quite nailing their landing, and he said, “Okay, okay. I’ll stop. Don’t kill me. Save that for Fred.” He took a huff from his cigarette. “I assume that’s why you and the merry band of psychos are here.”
“Our priority is getting Juliet out of that house safely, first,” I told him. “After that… no promises as to what happens to Fred.”
“Hey, I don’t give a shit about what happens to Fred. Hell, I’ll throw a fucking party when he’s dead, because that means I don’t have to be stuck on surveillance duty. Do you know how boring it is to sit in your car all day and watch a fucking house? Boring. Fucking boring.” He put a lot of emphasis on that word.
I tapped the roof of the car. “Well, depending on how this goes, there might be a spot for you at the house.”
“Ooh, goody. I’ve always wanted a promotion—though if the big man is there, it’s not much of a promotion, is it?” Rave, just like most of the other Scotts, and me, didn’t particularly like his father. “I like Markus. I like him a whole lot better than dear old daddy.”
“Markus is an asshole.”
“Yeah, well, aren’t we all, so that doesn’t really mean much, does it?”
I blinked. This was getting nowhere. “We’re going to grab a motel—unless you got a safehouse nearby?”
Rave seemed to think it over. “I may have a deal worked out with a sweet old lady who manages the motel on West. She makes me cookies every Tuesday and Thursday and leaves them in my room.” He took another drag. “If you mention my name, she might work something out for you.”
“Thanks.” I started to push away from the car, but then I stopped and met his dark eyes once more. “You’ll keep watch while we’re gone?”
