Page 174 of Heir

“B-back at their house.”

I paused. “Not possible. I have men watching the place.”

“They’re in the basement. There’s a small back entrance that’s not visible from the street. They’ve been using that to come and go. Please, that’s all I know. Please.”

He was crying now.

I wondered if he did anything when my girl was crying, tied to that chair. She must have been fucking terrified when she woke up.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

I grabbed the flesh and ran the blade through the part that was keeping it attached to his face.

He screamed, and still, that did nothing to abate my anger.

I leaned down close to him. “Let’s have some fun, yeah?”

* * *

There wasa small shower in the warehouse where we kept men we’d taken for questioning. I washed off all the blood, scrubbing hard and using the shampoo we kept there.

I wasn’t going home to Gemma with that bastard’s blood on my skin, though I doubted this would help, considering Micah and I were heading out as soon as I cleaned up. We were going to Gemma’s childhood home and taking care of the mom and stepfather.

I was going to eliminate all and any threat to Gemma.

Three more cherry blossoms to add to the tattoo tree on my back.

I doubted Gemma had made the connection between the flowers and the people I had killed for the club. Would she be repulsed by me, or would she still love me, despite the darkness?

I would never let anything in this world touch her.

I closed my eyes and let the cold water run over me, trying to get my emotions under control.

Once I was done, I dressed in the extra change of clothing I had brought with me, bringing the old one over to the metal tin can in the corner and burning it.

I watched as the fire destroyed the evidence of my crime when Micah came into the room.

He stood next to me and watched.

“Thank you for being here with me,” I said. I didn’t need him here. I could handle it on my own, but Micah was here, and it helped keep the dark thoughts away.

“Anything for you, kid,” he said, and I knew he meant it.

I nodded.

“Are you doing all right?”

“Yes. I have Gemma back. Everything is fine.”

“That’s not what I meant. We’re three days away.”

I didn’t need him to clarify. Three more days and we would hit the tenth anniversary of Jude’s death.

Only, this year…

This year was more bearable than any other years before.

For once, I wasn’t living in the past, drenched in deep regret and guilt.

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