Page 45 of Thorns Laced In Blood

“This isn’t about the clothes, Maeve,” he said before his voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s about you believing you don’t deservethem. But I’ll fucking remind you. Every scar. Every day. Until you see what I see.”

His thumb brushed my cheekbone, possessive and tender.

“A survivor. A warrior. Mine,” he said, catching my stupid tears while my lips trembled.

I didn’t deserve him, but I held onto him and hugged him tight.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered back, breathing into my hair and gently rubbing my back. “You're going to have good days and bad days, sweetheart. That’s normal. It took me time to heal.”

A sigh shuddered through my body as I relaxed, sinking into his warm body and leaning on him again. Whenever I stumbled, he was there to pick me up. He swayed me in a soothing tempo. With each passing day, this man proved that not all men were devils.

Chapter 28

Saul

I pushed Bear closer to her and moved my pillows along her body, pausing to look at her moonlit face as she slept. We talked, I probed, and she spilled. I needed her words to justify the lives I would take. She was about to turn twenty-four years old, and it shattered my heart to pieces when she told me what he did to her on her birthday every year. It would take everything in me not to kill him tonight. He needed to live for ten years.

For her.

I could do it for her sake.

Maeve O’Neill, the girl who lived through it all.

I gently pressed my lips over the scar on her forehead, ignoring the black button eyes on me.

I left the house, hugging Sean on my way out. Seeing his jaw fall open as I walked away from him was worth it. Dylan was waiting in the van. I glanced back to see Maggie and Gavin zip-tied and gagged. Their deaths would be slow and by starvation. Athill was my main target. I enjoyed hearing the panic and muffled cries in the back. They weren't quite as loud on the motorway.

I pulled my phone out and texted my brother.

Me:I left you some grapefruits on the kitchen counter. Help yourself.

Sean:I hate you.

Nah, he loved me.

I grinned and put my phone in my pocket before discussing the night’s details with Dylan.

???

His cameras were disabled, and doors lay open. I took my time walking through his house. His disappearance would make waves across every newspaper outlet, so it took me longer than anticipated to plan his abduction. Michael’s work had been impeccable.

My company was profitable, and I was comfortable enough to retire, but this twisted fuck was the CEO of a global firm. Additionally, he had his own company in the U.K. He thought he was untouchable because of his wealth and stature.

I reached his bedroom and pulled the material of my balaclava over my mouth before I twisted the doorknob, rolling my eyes at the gold knob.

Dickhead.

His life was about to change. I smiled and pushed open the door, slamming it against the wall. He jerked up, and I switched the light on. Maeve's dark-haired, blue-eyed devil didn't look too brave with a gun aimed at his head.

“Who are you? What—”

His nasally posh voice pissed me off. My finger jumped on the trigger, and the gun fired. I watched as I hit his neck. My aim was still good after all those years. I pressed the button on my radio.

“Thanks for the tranquilliser idea, D. I would have killed him for sure. Over,” I said before I ran to the bed, grabbed his ankle and pulled him off the bed.

I enjoyed the sound of his body and head hitting the floor. He was given the same treatment when coming down the stairs, but I paused when Dylan’s message came through.

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