Page 73 of Royally Ruined

“Scotch,” I said breathlessly. “Where is she?”

The line was quiet. He whispered, “Shit.”

“Hawthorne.Where the hell is she?”

“Man, listen. It’s better if you don’t know.”

The veins swelled on the backs of my hands, snaking over my knuckles. “If you don’t tell me, I swear—”

“Costello.” My name cracked like saying it caused him pain. “I let you run the show before. Look where it got us. We’re going to go to war with theValentines.And all because you won’t let her pay for what she did.”

“She didn’t do anything!”I howled in the street, no longer feeling the cold. White snow made my world look pure and clean when it was anything but. “Listen to yourself. You’re a dog for our father, crawling at his feet because you’re scared.”

He burned with black anger. “Of course I’m scared!” The voices in the background were gone; had he walked away or were they listening in? “You’re dragging all of us down. You’re making it soIhave to be the one making all the hard choices. This was never meant for me. I’m no leader, never was, it’s you who ... fuck.Fuck!” He said it again, then he laughed with genuine sorrow muddling the heart of it. “I don’t care if she shot him or not anymore. But I do care that our mother, our sisters, Kain and Sammy, and everyone else are going to be running from a family with a vendetta if she doesn’t hand herself over.”

My insides roiled like dying snakes. “Where is it happening?”

“Just stay low, brother. Just until the morning.” He hesitated. “Darien might not kill her. There’s always a chance.”

“Thorne! Hawthorne, talk to me! Thorne!Thorne! Fuck, Thorne!” I kept screaming long after I knew he’d ended the call. I shouted until my throat was raw. Until I was kneeling in the slush, a broken man about to lose everything.

If Thorne wouldn’t tell me where Scotch was meeting Darien, then my father wouldn’t, either. I still tried, though; when I called, he didn’t answer. Not my text messages, either, which increased along with my manic desperation.

I’ll drive around the city. Every city. The whole state ... the world.I wouldn’t rest until I found Scotch. But my brother’s words had been ominous:until the morning.The handoff was happening tonight. I didn’t have time to search the world for the woman I loved. I was still going to try, but the reality had my chin hanging on my chest. I fought back angry tears with a brutal grimace that made my jaw ache.

My phone buzzed in my hand. I scanned it with wild, misplaced hope; there was a message from an unknown number.

Unknown:Havenport Warehouse, Boston, ten o’clock.

Unknown:You have to save her. Please.

Disbelief marched up my body and down my throat until I couldn’t make a sound.Save her?This was about Scotch. Some angel had gifted me with the location of the meeting.

Without wasting another second, I stood on unfeeling limbs and raced to the car.

The warehouse sat along one side of the Charles River. There were no lights outside of the few dotting the nearby turnpike. Parking my sister’s car out of the sight of anyone inside was easy; several abandoned buildings served as decent cover.

Softly I shut the door, taking inventory of myself as I crouched.One gun, only eight bullets.I’d fired the rest back at my condo.If I’d asked Stapler for another clip, I wonder if he’d have given it to me.

Probably not.

Under my pants was strapped a simple knife. I fingered the hilt, then covered it again. I’d never been afraid of spilling blood. It didn’t occur to me to be scared of hurting my enemies; I’d done it enough times at my father’s order.

But this wasn’t about duty. The men inside were keeping me away from someone more important to me than life itself. For her, I’d kill everyone on this earth.

I flicked my gun’s safety off and prowled toward the building. There were five cars parked outside—basic models except for a black Mustang with yellow slashes of color along the doors.Darien’s car, no doubt,I thought as I studied it. It reeked of pompous ego.

Satisfied that the cars were empty, I turned my eyes to the wide metal doors. One was propped partially open, and just inside was a bright white light. Apparently this guard was more interested in Facebook on his phone than in watching for danger.

Quick as a falling stone I crept up beside him. One arm choked his throat, silencing him while I scanned inside for more lookouts. In my grip the man went limp; I didn’t need to kill him, leaving him unconscious was enough.

Without knowing what I was up against, I had to be extra careful. I couldn’t just fire my gun; I’d bring every unseen attacker down on me. Darien could have two men or twenty. Five cars made me think it was more like ten, at most. But I was taking no chances.

Deeper I moved into the warehouse. My eyes adjusted to the dimness, allowing me to slink around corners and avoid old bits of metal pipe strewn around. There were multiple hallways around me. Any one of them could lead me toward peril ... or to the woman I loved.

A voice spoke up ahead; I froze, my ears whistling as I strained to hear what was being said. It was too far away, the walls too thick. And still ... I was sure one of those voices was female.Scotch.Darien was nearby, he had her, and I had to fucking hurry. Swept up in focusing on what was ahead, I didn’t hear what was behind me until it was too late.

“Hey!” a man grunted, his arms winding around my shoulders from behind. “We got someone over here!”

---