Page 32 of Save Me
“And to lead with strength and honour.”
“And to lead with strength and honour.”
“The only way out is death,”
My eyes fix on his. “The only way out is death.”
He nods once. “With your blood now bound to The Crowned Syndicate’s heart, you are one of us, Vogue McGowan, heir to our legacy.”
As much as I hate to admit it, part of me swells with perverse pride at this clusterfuck. Power is an intoxicant no one warns you about.
Looking out at the faces before me, the Syndicate members watch with a mix of respect and scrutiny. I meet their gazes one by one, letting them see that I’m not about to shy away from the path I’ve been forced onto. I was going to do it anyway, but I wanted to do it my way.
However, I can’t deny the relief that washes over me. It’s official, and anyone who fucks with me fucks with all of us. With it comes trepidation, the knowledge that every choice from here on out bears the weight of consequences I can only begin to imagine.
“Your new life starts now. You understand the weight of it?” He doesn’t ask as much as state it, the expectation clear in his tone.
“I do.”
Aaron’s eyes pierce me for a moment longer, as if searching my soul for the strength he hopes resides there. Then, with a curt nod that seems to echo off the walls, he turns away, signalling the end of the ceremony. The room erupts into murmursand movement, the Syndicate members shuffling around, their whispers turning louder.
I feel their eyes on me, weighing my worthiness for the mantle I now carry. But it’s not just their scrutiny that prickles the back of my neck, or the chip still embedded in there – it’s also their barely concealed excitement at having something new to sink their teeth into. The sharks have tasted blood.
The sting of my bloodied palm is a reminder of what’s transpired – a binding contract written in pain and sealed with violence. It’s not just the sharp bite of metal that’s left its mark; it’s the realisation that there’s no turning back. Aaron may have forced this on me tonight, but I’ll be damned if I let him or anyone else dictate how I wear this haphazard crown.
Adam catches my eye and nods once, approvingly, before the guys move forward, and I turn to them accusingly.
“Did you know about this?” I bark.
Callum steps closer, his broad frame blocking out the others for a moment. “It’s how things are done here, Vogue. Timing’s never our choice.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to get that. Did you find… that thing?”
He frowns and then remembers our conversation in the bathroom. “Yeah, battery died. What that means… well, I guess we’ll find out.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I hiss. “Am I going to get caught or not?”
“Doesn’t matter even if you do. You’re untouchable now.”
“Great,” I mutter, panic rising again. “Fucking great.”
11
VOGUE
“Can I go now?”
The question is rhetorical. I’m going whether I’m allowed to or not.
Callum nods, taking my hand and linking our fingers together, holding on tightly as he pulls me closer. It’s possessive, and when Quentin moves to my other side and places his hand lightly over the back of my neck, reminding me they own me, I shiver with the dark thrill that this foursome brings me.
The drive home, in yet another car that is new to me, I watch the night flash by, consumed with thoughts of my mother. Something is wrong. I know it. She wouldn’t just sit by while her phone was disconnected and let me worry. She would’ve tried to get in touch.
When Thayer escorts me upstairs to the penthouse, closer than ever, almost as if he is seeking my forgiveness for his actions earlier, I smile wearily up at him. He searches my eyes for a moment and then kisses the tip of my nose.
That’s all it takes.
And I love that about us.
