Page 84 of Monsters Wear Crowns
“Get Vincent!” Rafe barked, his voice sharp and commanding.
I didn’t hesitate. I sprinted toward the chair, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it would crack my ribs. Vincent’s head lolled forward, his face a mess of blood and bruises. I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands flying to the knots at his wrists.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered, fingers slipping on the rope.
Behind me, I could hear Rafe and the brutal efficiency of his violence. Gunfire and the wet, sick sound of bodies hitting the floor. I didn’t dare look back.
“Adela, hurry,” Rafe snapped.
“I’m trying!”
The rope finally gave. I pulled Vincent’s arm over my shoulders, trying to haul him up. He groaned, his weight sagging against me.
“Go,” Rafe ordered, his voice closer now.
I staggered toward the exit, dragging Vincent with me. Rafe stayed behind with several of his men, covering us. But Moreau’s voice rang through, sharp as hell.
“You should ask him,” he called, his tone almost amused. “Ask him what really happened to your mother.”
I froze.
“Don’t listen to him,” Rafe growled, his hand closing around my arm.
But I couldn’t move. My breath turned shallow, my mindspinning. “What?” I whispered.
Moreau smiled–a sharp, cruel thing. “You think Vaughan doesn’t keep secrets from you? You think he’s not using you, just like your father did to your mother?” He tilted his head. “You’re smart, Adela. How long before you start asking therightquestions?”
“Enough,” Rafe snapped, his grip tightening.
But it was too late. The seed had already been planted.
We got Vincent out. Rafe’s men swept in to cover us, the fight coming to a close behind us. But my mind was far away, stuck on Moreau’s words, on the cold look in Rafe’s eyes.
On the terrible feeling that I was missing something.
***
Back at the mansion, the air was so thick that it was nearly suffocating. Vincent was being treated, Rafe pacing like a caged animal. I stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed tight over my chest, trying to piece everything together.
“Don’t,” Rafe said without looking at me.
“Don’twhat?”
“Don’t start questioning me because of something Moreau said.” His voice was low and dangerous, but there was something else underneath–something frayed. It was like he was scared.
“Then tell me the truth,” I shot back. “About my mother. About why Moreau thinks he knows something I don’t.”
He turned to face me slowly, his eyes cold and unreadable. “Not now.”
“Thenwhen?” I demanded. “When it’s too late? When I’m bleeding out from another fucking bullet that another fucking enemy buries in my side?”
Rafe stalked across the room, his face a mask of control–but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the fury simmering just beneath the surface. I wanted him to explode. I wanted the truth.
“I deserveanswers,” I said, my voice shaking. “If I’m going to stand by your side in this, I need to know what we’rereallyup against and what thefuckyou’re holding back.”
“You know what we’re up against,” Rafe shot back, his eyes flashing. “A man who wants to destroy me, and he’snotabove using you to do it.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.” I took a step closer. “He knows something about my mother. Something youhaven’ttold me. Why? Did you know her?”
