Page 106 of Pretty Lethal
“I take it,you’rethinking about it?” Cam enquires.
“We talked about it.” I roll my eyes. “AfterWilder took it upon himself to chuck out Emilia’s contraceptive pills without discussing it with anyone.”
Both West and Cam snort, not unused to hearing me gripe about Wilder and the pain in the ass he was that day.
“So, you’re trying?”
I nod. “Not that we’ve had much of a chance, what with all this shit going on,” I tell them, gesturing toward the Elite clubhouse in front of us. “But, yeah.” Again, I can’t fight the grin that stretches across my face as I picture all of us clambering into Emilia’s bed once we’re done here tonight and truly making a proper go of this baby-making thing.
West claps me on the shoulder and squeezes. “I’m happy for you,” he says with an easy smile. No judgment or criticism. No hard feelings. Purely the support of a best friend who has been there for you your entire life.
“Same, man,” Cam says, before sticking his hand in the air like an idiot. “I call dibs on the fun uncle.”
Rolling my eyes, West and I both laugh as we shake our heads, until apingfrom West’s tablet wipes away the happy moment and we all glance down at the screen.
“No recording devices or alarms,” West announces as his eyes scan the screen. “Guess they don’t want anyone knowing what sick shit they’re getting up to out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Most definitely not.
As we circle around the side of the building, I peer through some of the windows, but the glass is frosted. Meaning light can shine out, but I can’t make out what is happening inside other than the occasional moving blur. However, there is definitely more than Carrie inside. In fact, based on the numerous cars we passed parked in the driveway, I’d guess she’s called the Elites together—most likely to show off her new puppet.
Foolish woman. You’d think if she was paying such close attention, she’d have realized Wilder cannot be controlled. Trust me, I’ve tried. He’s a tornado, content to blow wherever the wind takes him and uncaring of the destruction he leaves behind. However, people like Carrie only see what they want to see. She’s narcissistic enough to believe she’d be able to reel him in. Instead, she’s pulled the stopper keeping Wilder’s crazy at bay. He’s a hound on the loose, scenting the bitter tang of blood in the air and ready to shred open veins to taste it.
As we approach the next window in our search for an entrance into the building, I can see bodies pressed up against the glass. West and Cam notice, too, the three of us slowing to a stop as we peer in.
“Give me a boost,” I whisper, putting my booted foot in Cam’s hands when he links his fingers and holds them out for me. He pushes me high enough to see over the bottom bit of frosted glass so I can have a clear view of a room packed with hooded figures. Even though it’s swarming with cloaks, I recognize it as the room we emerged from the tunnels earlier, and scanning my eyes around the space, it doesn’t take me long to realize the Elites have been gathered just like I’d suspected. As I watch, the door at the far end of the room flies open and a cloaked figure with gold-colored trim and its hood pulled up strides inside. Unlike the idiots in the room, I know it’s Carrie, masquerading as Wilder’s grandfather because patriarchal societies such as this believe you need a dick in order to be someone. Such old-age bullshit. It’s thinking like that that has enabled Carrie to obtain the position she has without anyone batting an eye.
Carrie moves to stand on the platform at the front of the room, lifting her arms out to her side. I can hear her robotic voice through the glass, except it’s too distorted to make out what she’s saying.
Before I can tell Cam to lower me back to the ground, I catch movement in the doorway as Hadley’s head appears.
“Shit,” I curse under my breath. “Let me down. We need to get inside. Now. Shit’s about to go down.”
The three of us hurry around outside the building, searching for a doorway inside. At the sound of a gun going off, I push my toes further into the dirt, moving faster. There’s no way I’m going to be caught outside while Hadley brings about chaos, and I have no idea where Emilia is.
“There!” West pants, pointing ahead where the building has a back entrance. The sound of more gunshots going off grows louder as I yank it open, the three of us stepping into pandemonium.
Cloaks scurry about like headless chickens, everyone trying to escape, but I ignore them as I push past with my gun held tightly in my outstretched hand, not giving them a lick of attention. They’re worthless. Sheep. Not worth the bullets in my chamber, which are better saved for those who choose to fight at Carrie’s side.
Shoulder to shoulder with my brothers, we charge down the hallway toward the room I saw Carrie in. Cloaks stream past us in a black sea, jostling one another in their urgency to escape, although they give us a wide berth. I can practically feel their eyes on our weapons as they slip past, their shoulders dropping in relief before they race for the nearest exit.
Perhaps we should be putting a bullet in each and every one of them. I have no doubt they all would have clapped and cheered when Carrie revealed her new weapon, along with the promise of a more prosperous future, but as I follow the sound of gunfire deeper into the building, my focus is solely on ensuring Emilia and Hadley are both alive and safe.
The sound of gunshots grows deafening as we step into the doorway, and I immediately have to duck as a part of the wall explodes beside where my head just was.
“Fuck,” I hiss, glaring across the room but unable to identify the shooter. Based on the number of cloaks running for their lives, I expected to find the room mostly empty, but I clearly underestimated the number of people willing to die for their King as I frown at the circle of bodies two men deep forming around Carrie, effectively protecting her from all sides.
While many of them appear unarmed, a surprising number have weapons—guns, blades, and even knuckle dusters—held in their hands, prepared to fight for their King if need be.
How fucking noble.
My heart lodges in my throat as I follow the direction their weapons are pointing, finding them aimed directly at Hadley, Mason, and Beck, who are standing battle-ready in the center of the room.
None of them look the slightest bit fazed by the fact they're outnumbered, and even though I know Hadley could probably take on most of them by herself, fear bleeds into my system as I hold my breath in anticipation.
“How dare you enter our esteemed home,” Carrie cries in her robotic voice, righteous indignation dripping from every word. “This is private property, and I demand that you leave this instant.”
I scoff, and even though I can’t see her eyes from beneath her oversized hood, I swear her gaze snaps to mine.
