Page 109 of Whispers of Fire

The hall is large and looks like a huge warehouse, wood and metal everywhere. I focus on walking and breathing, my right hand going to my throat as I try to painfully inhale. It’s getting better thanks to the morphine.

We pass by a bar with four men staring at us. All wearing the same leather jacket as Vox, their eyes wide. I don’t have more time to take in my surroundings before Shadow walks us to a metallic door, then to a dark staircase. It takes forever to get there, hearing manly voices talking.

My father is there.

What in the…?

I don’t now how he got there but he’s kneeling on the floor of what look like a torture chamber. Blood is coming out of his knees, his body shaking.

Vox is standing next to him, hovering above him like a predator, his gaze locking with mine as I walk toward him. Our bodies are aware of each other without even speaking. I hold onto Shadow next to me, afraid to collapse if I let go.

Three other men are in the room, and I remember having seen them at Vox’s house too. One of them looks the same age as me; he’s standing in the corner, fidgeting with his fingers as if he isn’t comfortable. Another one is thin and taller than everyone, his face holding no expression, like a machine.

And the last one, well, it doesn’t take a genius to know that he is the one commanding the room. Standing two steps from Vox, with brown hair and a light stubble, watching me, his massive frame with a black shirt makes him look more like a Viking than a man. He turns toward me.

“Well, well,” he says with a low, deep voice, tilting his head on the side. “I was eager to meet you. Rose.” He chuckles strangely. Looking at Vox, I question him with my eyes.

What is this? Why are we here? What is going to happen to my father? Why doesn’t he talk to me? I’m right here.

“You’ve made things quite… difficult for us, Rose. With your leader being our client and such, well, things didn’t go the way I like them to go.” He walks around me like a lion in front of a rabbit. I keep my eyes on Vox, my lifeline in this chaos.

“I wanted Vox to go to Seattle, so we kept him here for the last few weeks but… well, he decided it was better to escape and save you like a fuckin’ knight. Or a traitor. Depends on the perspective.” Pinching the bridges of his nose, he continues, “So, ya see, I need retribution, and in our world, retribution hurts. Otherwise, it doesn’t work.”

A shiver runs down my spine. His words sink into me while I process what’s happening.

Vox didn’t have a choice.

He had to stay away.

He chose to betray his club to save me.

He chose me, knowing he would lose everything else.

I swallow hard, fighting to keep the tears from spilling. Looking at my man, I fall even harder for him than the day we danced together in his living room.

My dark knight.

Witnessing Vox and I exchanging a long look, an all too familiar voice, distorted by pain, whines in the room.

“ROSE! Do you know these men?” my father shouts.

Drifting my gaze on him, to the man who hurt me more than anyone, I nod.

“It’s him, right?” motioning his bleeding chin toward Vox, he asks. “You went whoring around with the next door neighbor, betraying our community with your lowlife morals,” he yells before Vox grabs his neck firmly.

“Don’t ever talk to my girl that way, you son of a bitch, or I swear I’ll scoop your eyes with a fuckin’ spoon and eat ice cream with it later.” His voice is foreign, cold and sharp, my father freezing in his hold instantly.

“Scoop… scoop. You’re the one who killed Mr Collins.” My father shakes his head in disbelief. “He didn’t have his eye when they found him,” he murmurs.

Looking back at me, he pleads, “Don’t trust a word from him, Rose, he’s a monster. He killed Mr Collins and our holy Shepherd. HE did it!” His voice dissolves into sobs for his lost leader.

The Shepherd is dead? And Mr Collins too? But… but how?

Did Vox… killed them?

For… me?

Raising my eyes toward Vox, I sense my lower lip trembling at his worried gaze.

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