Page 97 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

“Fuck,” he moans. “Hurts like a bitch.”

“Hang in there. I’ll get help.”

I turn to Murray. And as I do, I realize that the knife is still in his hand. I’m close enough to make a last-ditch swipe at. Maybe he’ll get me, maybe he won’t.

I raise my gun to fire once more. I won’t miss twice.

But he doesn’t swing the knife at me.

He brings it to his own throat instead.

“NO!” I bellow.

Before I can stop him, he swipes the knife across his own throat. Blood spurts out in uneven torrents.

One second later, Murray’s eyes glaze over.

He’s dead. And my last hope for answers just died with him.

21

Elyssa

I whip around and look towards Anna. “What’s happening?”

She clearly has no idea. “Stay here,” she says. “I’ll go and see.”

There’s not an ounce of fear or hesitation in her tone. She looks like she’s ready to jump into the fray if she needs to.

Where does fearlessness like that come from? From a life like hers, no doubt.

But as brave as she may appear, she’s still an old lady in her sixties. She walks with a limp and a cane and honestly, she’s been through enough. I can’t possibly let her go off on her own into potentially dangerous territory, while I stayed barricaded in my room.

“No,” I say firmly. “Stay here with Theo and Charity, okay? I’ll go and see what’s happening.”

Anna’s eyes flash with determination. “It might not be safe for you.”

“If it’s not safe for me, then it’s definitely not safe for you,” I counter, putting Theo’s baby carrier on the floor in front of the door.

At that exact moment, Charity pulls it open. “Oh my God… Elyssa, Theo! Thank God. Did you just hear a gunshot?”

I start jogging down the hall without answering. “Stay in the room,” I call back over my shoulder. “Lock the door. I’ll be back.”

“Elyssa, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Charity demands.

“Language!” I call back, knowing it’ll piss her off. I can hear Anna protesting, too, but I ignore both of them and take off at a run.

I don’t know why I’m so adamant to check this out on my own. All I have are the visceral demands of my instincts. And they’re scared.

Not for myself.

But for… Phoenix?

The conscious acknowledgement has me reeling for a moment. My interest in him is taking on a new meaning. Now’s not the time to parse that.

I follow the sound down towards the basement. The door is closed, but when I push it open, it swings forward, granting me access to the broad staircase.

“NO!”

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