Page 66 of Cole: Bloodlines
Jitterbug cackled excitedly and jumped onto the giant’s back, resting his chin on the big man’s shoulder as he squinted almost affectionately at Savannah. “My friend, Savannah… pretty Savannah… go, pretty baby… leave this bad place… be safe.”
“We’ll keep her safe,” Cole murmured, an uneasy feeling in his gut suggesting that, if not for Savannah, they might all be dead at this thing’s hands.
The giant turned and walked away, fading into the shadowed corridor.
“Bye-bye, pretty baby,”Jitterbug tittered.“Pretty Savannah… my friend.”
Savannah smiled uncertainly. “Bye… Jitterbug.”
PART SIX: OUT OF HELL
“If you’re going through hell,
Keep going.”
— Winston Churchill
CHAPTER 29: LOCKED DOWN
His steps slowing,Daniel came to a halt.
“What is it?” Byrne asked.
“I can’t chance Henry escaping.”
“They’re locked in that room, they’re not getting out. Even if they did, they won’t leave without the boy and the girl.”
Daniel shook his head. “I’m not willing to risk it. I still have plans for him.”
Byrne frowned. “Plans? You mean, to torture him.”
Daniel looked at him. “Otherplans.”
“What?” Byrne hissed. “He tried to fuckinggutyou. Are you really thisstupid?”
Daniel backhanded him with a crack that echoed off the concrete walls, a blur of movement ending in an explosion of pain across Byrne's face. Fresh blood spurted from his nostrils, metallic warmth flooding his mouth and dripping down his stubbled chin. The older man's finger jabbed within an inch of his face, trembling with barely contained rage. “You are still my son. You will show me some fucking respect.”
Byrne stared into his father's eyes—burning with the intensity of banked coals. A vein throbbed visibly at his temple as his own blood surged hot through his veins. “You told Henry that he was your only son. The only son you wanted. Why the fuck should I show you respect?”
“Because you need me.” Daniel's voice scraped like boots on gravel.
“No, I don't,” Byrne spat, a fine mist of blood spraying between them.
“If you didn't need me,” his dad murmured, voice dropping to that familiar dull monotone that had preceded so many childhood beatings, “you wouldn't have wasted your timebreaking me out of prison—you would have dealt with Henry yourself. But you couldn't, because you can't do anything yourself.”
“And you can’t face fuckingreality,”Byrne scoffed. “Henry will never be your perfect little killer.”
“He will,” Daniel said. “Once I remove the obstacles. He isn’t strong enough yet to do it himself, but once they’re gone… all he will have isme.”
“I told you,” Byrne said low. “Mary confessed hersecretto me. She had no cause to lie.”
Hate smoldered in Daniel’s eyes. “No… but you do.” He pointed at his son. “You killed my wife. You better fucking believe that won’t go unpunished.”
“Youshould have killed her before Henry was ever born. We were supposed to kill hertogether.” Byrne's jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumped beneath the stubble. “Youbetrayedme—for her and forHenry.” His face twitched, a spasm rippling across features carved from granite. “They were obstacles. I got rid of one, and it brought you back to your senses. Now...” Byrne unsheathed his knife, the blade catching the pale, dim light with a cold silver wink. “...I just need to get rid of the other.”
“Put that away,” Daniel said, his voice firm with authority. “You leave your brother to me.”
Byrne suddenly shoved the knife to his father's throat, the razor-sharp tip dimpling the papery flesh beneath the stubbled crook of his jaw. A single bead of blood welled up, bright as a ruby, oozing along the steel blade. Daniel didn't flinch as he stared back, eyes cold as ice. “He isn't my brother,” Byrne snarled, bloody spittle flecking his dad’s face. “He never was.” He pressed the blade tip a fraction harder against Daniel's throat, his knuckles whitening around the worn leather handle.
