Page 57 of To Curse A Knight

“He should have killed me that night, too. I don’t know why he didn’t—he’s never fessed up to it. Maybe because Daddy would have hunted him to the ends of the earth, and Isabella’s family would never have the resources to.”

I swiped my wet chin, angry I couldn’t hold off the tears. Angry the world was so deeply unbalanced, where the rich little white girl had the world in her pocket, when the equally talented, supremely intelligent Portuguese girl had been left to rot. Angry, despite how far I’d come, how many scales I’d tipped, these women and children still drowned in an ocean of inequity. I was a drop in the bucket, yet I had hung my life on the line on ill-advised hope that many drops would make the bucket overflow and eventually, I would win.

Eventually, she’d forgive me.

A deep, painful breath expanded my lungs and gave me the strength to finish the story—I wasn’t allowed to suffer a mental breakdown until the work was done. And the work wouldneverbe done.

“For weeks, I wished I was dead, too. I drowned myself in alcohol, locked myself away from the world. And then, I smartened up, and made it my mission to find him.

“When I did, he confirmed my suspicions. He was a trafficker. He located beautiful, exotic women on this side of American soil, groomed them, and then sold them to the highest bidder. Through my research, I fell into the darkest rabbit hole of sins. America had a mass network of women and children being coerced into sexual slavery. I needed to do something about it—to honor her. To atone for thinking I could handle it on my own—for not taking it seriously enough.”

I heard rustling from the couch. Then three masculine, looming presences got closer to me. I still couldn’t look at them. Not yet. They made no move to touch me, respecting the unspoken boundary as I let go of my heaviest secret. Another punch of gratitude hit my heart, warring with the immeasurable hole of loss.

“I built this place to hold anyone of Alec’s caliber, if I ever got my hands on them. I hired a network of mercenaries who could exact justice on the men and women who paid for the services of sex slaves. I invested in the system to protect the victims we could save.

“We’ve castrated over 100 men and saved over 500 children. And we’ve barely made a dent. I’m so tired of running around, pretending to play Batman, while these men continue to play God.”

A low whistle broke through my stilted declaration; Lucky. There. He finally knew who he was dealing with. The woman he’d been trying to steal from was actually a murderous avenger with a survivor’s guilt complex.

“I found out recently that Alvarez was running the girls back then. Alec reported to him. So, my nemesis of today is also the nemesis of my past. The universe is one hell of a bitch sometimes.”

My poor attempt at a joke fell flat. Shewasone hell of a bitch. This vendetta had become a life sentence, a torturous taunt of my worst nightmare on repeat—except it was no longer me trapped in my body, watching the woman I loved being raped and killed—it was the crescendo of silent screams of the many women being taken from their homes, forced to succumb to the same fate.

Children who became victims long before they experienced their first kiss, only to become perfectly groomed dolls, molded to meet evil expectations.

I finally found the strength to raise my eyes; terrified to see the cruel pricks of judgment or the simpering softness of sympathy. But when I searched the three men’s troubled gazes, I found neither; rich caramels lined with wrathful concern, dark navy icicles filled with brutal fury, and sea-glass greens with nothing but open compassion.

How different these men were, and yet—here they were. For me.

Salty drops slid down into my mouth as I pursed my lips and made my last plea. “This is deeply personal for me, and I need your help. I need you to help me kill him. For her.”

My eyes became the pathways to waterfalls now. Tears tumbled over my eyelids in rivers of pain I had never allowed myself to feel; the dam had finally cracked after too many makeshift repairs to salvage my sanity.

I sobbed and collapsed into a puddle on the floor; my resolve to keep my walls strong and impenetrable crumbled. Strong arms lifted me and carried me to the couch—the hard chest of citrus and amber let me know Kellan held me.

“I’m so sorry, Killer,” he soothed, stroking calloused palms down my back as he rocked me back and forth against him. “I’m so sorry.”

Gentle hands lifted my hair off my shoulders and moved to the base of my skull, massaging the scalp at the top of my spine. Lucky had moved behind the couch to offer his own version of comfort; I basked in his touch like a preening cat, desperate for their warmth.. A hand gripped my chin, tilting my head toward them; Aaron knelt at Kellan’s feet, leaning over both our bodies, his gaze held me securely.

“We will help you,Mi Reina. We will rid you of your first demon and then take over hell together. Yes?”

I hiccuped, the puff of air escaping in an embarrassingly girlish squeak before I burrowed back into Kellan’s chest.

Lucky chuckled softly and placed a light kiss atop my head before standing, rounding the couch, and holding out a hand for me to take.

“Come on, Blondie. It’s time to let that peckerhead go. Roboto is going to lend you his little toy to take your pound of flesh, and then we’ll burn this dungeon to the ground.”

I leaned over to place a light kiss on Aaron’s lips, then let Lucky pull me out of Kellan’s arms. I stood awkwardly in their midst, feeling uncomfortable and exposed, my power draining from me with each admission of my most deplorable failures.

Aaron held out his hand and slipped the cool metal of a sharpened dagger into my grip.

“For Isabella,” he said firmly, then wordlessly he turned on his heel, leading us out into the cavernous basement.

Lucky wrapped an arm around my shoulder and steered me upstairs, Kellan on our heels, his commanding Viking presence protecting us at the rear. When we arrived at the last cell, Aaron held open the door and beckoned me in.

Alec lay on the floor shivering with shock, and a silky sheen of sweat beaded across the remaining skin of his body.

He was useless to me now—incoherent and bleeding out. Despite what Aaron thought, I was sure he’d die from shock within hours. I refused to let the luck of fate pull him from this world, not when I could take it from him.

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