Page 93 of Missing Piece
“Pull the knife out of my back,” Richard said, his tone shifting to something almost coaxing. “And in exchange, I’ll tell you what’s comin’ to town.”
Adam’s breathing quickened, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.What if he’s telling the truth? What if there really are others coming?But before he could respond, Vincent acted.
The massive concrete block came down on Richard’s outstretched hands with a sickening crunch. Richard’s scream of agony pierced through the desolate space. Blood spurted from the mangled remains of his hands, staining the floor.
“You bastard!” Richard spat through gritted teeth, venom lacing every syllable.
Vincent didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to Adam and took his hand gently. Adam noticed that Vincent’s throat wound had sealed itself significantly, though a raw red line still marked where Richard had torn it open. Bloody tears had begun to drip down his cheeks.
“Let’s go,” Vincent said softly, weariness etched into every line of his face.
Adam glanced one last time at Richard, now pinned and helpless beneath the concrete, before allowing Vincent to lead him away from the carnage. His mind churned with questions and doubts, but for now, he focused on Vincent’s hand in his own and the quiet determination in the vampire’seyes.
“You’re just going to leave him there? What if—?”
“He’ll get to see the sun one last time in that spot.”
Chapter Thirty-Five - Vincent
Vincent sat in his private room at the back of Club Euphoria, fingers combing through Adam’s hair. Adam slept soundly, head cradled in Vincent’s lap, the soft rise and fall of his still bruised chest a fragile reminder of their recent battle with Richard. Adam’s wounds were healing but still raw and itchy, so he lay shirtless beneath Vincent’s silk-lined jacket, draped over him like a makeshift blanket.
Vincent barely registered the Jovanovska brothers’ conversation, lost in his thoughts as he stared into the champagne bubbles dancing in his glass. Guilt gnawed at him over Richard’s disappearance from the warehouse. The beast within him still seethed, a constant roil of fury pacing just beneath his sternum.
His beast growled at him, whispering insidious doubts:You’ve lost your edge. Weakness will get Adam killed.
Adam doesn’t need a rabid beast right now. He needs me to take care of him,Vincent reminded the beast, but it only growled louder at the notion, yearning to exert its power.
He looked down at Adam’s sleeping face, taking in the dark rings under his eyes and the bandage on his broken nose. The sight irritated the beast. Adam had been having nightmareshe refused to talk about; every time he fell asleep, they seemed to grip him tighter, and more than once, he woke up swinging and screaming.
If you want to keep him,Vincent told the beast,we can’t frighten him.
Vincent’s fingers continued their gentle rhythm through Adam’s hair as he contemplated the conversation he’d have with Marcus. He knew he had to tread carefully. Marcus had just survived his own brush with death at the hands of hunters while on a date with that timid young man Vincent had attacked under Richard’s influence.
Vincent’s jaw clenched. He’d tell Marcus that Richard was gone, yes. But the rest? Richard’s overcomplicated revenge plot, the missing corpse at the warehouse. Those details would remain buried.
Even as he tried to convince himself, doubt gnawed at the edges of his resolve. He hadn’t told anyone about Richard’s disappearance—not even the brothers. He’d wanted Richard to burn to death slowly as the sun rose, to suffer and die alone. But staring at that blood-stained concrete with no ash or corpse the next day seemed so foolish in hindsight.
Weak,his beast snarled.Should have stayed. Should have watched him die.
Vincent’s gaze dropped to Adam’s sleeping form, his eyes cataloging each wound and bruise. Every choice he’d made in that warehouse had been a gamble, an exercise in trust he didn’t deserve. By some miraculous twist of fate, it had worked.
That wasn’t weak,he told the beast firmly.
But if Richard shows his face again—
No. Vincent shook his head slightly, banishingthe thought. He’d made his choice. Richard could rampage across the country for all he cared, as long as he stayed away.
Vincent’s fingers stilled in Adam’s hair as Matteo caught his attention with a flapping hand. The vampire’s eyes darted to his friend, who gestured to his nose and held up two fingers. Vincent nodded, acknowledging the information. Two people were approaching.
He listened intently, picking up the rapid thumping of a human heart beneath the pulsing bass of the club’s music. One human, one vampire then. Vincent assumed it must be Ophelia and Marcus.
“I can hear your heartbeat out there,” he called out, a hint of amusement in his voice.
The curtain pulled back, and Vincent sat up straighter, surprise flickering across his features. It wasn’t Ophelia at all, but Tariq and Caleb. His beast stirred, recognizing the human it had wanted to toy with when unleashed by Richard.
Luka stood, moving to greet Tariq with a warm hug. Vincent was suddenly acutely aware of how he looked to Caleb—Adam’s head resting in his lap, Vincent’s fingers tangled in his hair. It was a position of intimacy, of vulnerability.
The beast growled low in his mind.They don’t know how soft you’ve gotten. Who will come for what is yours next?
