Page 29 of Empire

She gapes at me. “Holy shit. That’s fucked up. We need to call the police.”

I shake my head. “No. No way,” I rush out. “These guys aren’t screwing around. Calling the cops and trying to make a report isn’t going to get me justice. The only proof I have of this happening is my torn-up wrists, and who’s to say I didn’t do it myself? I can’t tell them where they were keeping me or why they did it. It’s not enough. They’ll get questioned and then it’ll get dropped, and I’ll be the one to face the consequences.”

“Are you serious?” she questions, almost looking disgusted with my decision. “So, you’re just going to let them get away with it and do nothing?”

“I’m not going to do nothing,” I argue. “And they sure as hell aren’t going to get away with it. I just need to figure out what they want with me. As soon as I’ve got that, the ball will be right back in my court, and the second it is, those assholes better watch out.”

Cara shakes her head. “This sounds like a dangerous game, Oakley. Maybe you should just let it go. Keep your head down, go to class, and try to forget it. Move on. If they’re willing to take you like that, what else are they capable of? Maybe you shouldn’t be trying to screw with them.”

She’s right. This is a dangerous game, and I know without a doubt, what they did to me isn’t even scratching the surface. There’s something wicked there, something evil and cruel. I see it every time I look into Zade’s eyes. And sure, call me stupid, but it’s not in my nature to let this go. I need to see this through. I need to know what they want with me.

“I—”

A knock sounds at the door, cutting me off, and my back stiffens as a chill sails down my spine. I stare at it, my eyes wide as my pulse beats erratically in my ears. My hands shake, and I back up until my ass hits the kitchen cabinets.

“Ugh,” Cara mutters, sliding off her chair. “Hold that thought.”

Panic tears at my chest, realizing she’s about to answer the door, but before I can even attempt to object, she’s already there with her hand curling around the handle. She pulls the door open to find Dalton standing out in the hallway, his gaze already locked on mine. “Oh, thank fuck,” he breathes, gripping the doorframe and making a show of barely being able to hold himself up, still looking beaten and bruised. “You’re okay. They knocked me out, and when I woke up in my apartment, you weren’t there . . . I thought—”

“You thought what?” I growl, rage blasting through my body. I storm around the kitchen counter and through the small apartment, his sharp stare tracking my every movement. “You thought this bitch is so fucking daft that she wouldn’t realize what the fuck was going on?”

Cara glances between us, confusion marring her pretty face. “Umm . . . maybe I should go.”

“Good idea,” Dalton snaps, his stare unwavering, a nasty tone in his voice for someone pretending to be on my side.

Without sparing me one more glance, Cara ducks and runs, taking off toward her room and leaving me with the traitor. I hear her bedroom door slam, but I don’t doubt the little weasel is listening through the walls.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dalton says, his tone now soft and pleading, the realization of being alone with him now setting off alarms inside my head. He goes to step over the threshold, but I hold up a hand, stopping him from coming any closer. Instead, I move toward him, listening as he tries to plead his case. “Did they . . . did they do something to you? Because I swear to God, Firefly, if they touched you, I’ll fucking end them.”

A scoff tears from the back of my throat, and I step right into his arms, my hands clutching his shoulders. Then, just as those strong arms go to close around me in a warm hug, I bring my knee up as hard as possible, nailing him right in the balls. The fucker drops to the ground so damn fast, I don’t even have time to pat myself on the back. “Ahh, fuck,” he spits, clutching onto his junk as he curls into a ball on the ground. “What the hell was that for?”

“Do you honestly think I’m that fucking stupid?” I roar, my jaw clenched as I allow the anger and frustration to fly free. “You’re a goddamn snake. I heard every fucking word, asshole. I know you’re one of them.”

“What . . . what are you talking about?” he spits. “One of who?”

As if right on cue, Zade’s door opens, and I instinctively take a step back into my apartment as he assesses the situation out in the hall. His laser-sharp stare makes me want to throw up. “One of them,” I say, narrowing my stare on Zade while discreetly holding my door, more than ready to slam it shut and lock the bastard out if he even thinks about inching toward me.

Dalton looks up as if only now just realizing Zade is here, and I have to give it to him, the asshole is a good actor. He blanches as he takes in Zade and almost tries to scurry away. He gets to his feet, his ferocious stare locked onto Zade. “Get the fuck away from her, you piece of shit.”

I laugh. “Wow, laying it on thick, huh?” I say.

He whips around with wide eyes, and honestly, that’s a dead giveaway right there. Who turns their back on their kidnapper? “What . . . what are you talking about?” he says through a clenched jaw, those startling blue eyes suddenly not doing anything for me.

“Cut the shit, Dalton. I heard every fucking word in that cell. I watched you walk back in and cuff yourself to the wall, listened to you joking around with Sawyer, heard your little plan to try and get information out of me. Surprise, asshole, I wasn’t asleep.”

I laugh, shaking my head as I watch his demeanor shift. The carefree, fun guy I’d met out on the street suddenly morphs into a cold, calculating asshole, just like his friends. “You’re imagining things, Firefly,” he says, his words now turning my blood cold.

Pulling on the door, I narrow the opening, feeling the sharp bite of Zade’s stare still heavily locked on me. He’s clearly the mastermind of this whole thing, but I keep my attention focused on Dalton. After all, Zade was clear in his intentions from the start. I knew to be wary of him, but Dalton? He’s a snake in sheep’s clothing. He deceived me, used my body, and then showed his real colors. “You almost had me fooled. Honestly, it was a good little act, getting me alone on that rooftop, making me crave your touch and fucking me until I couldn’t breathe, but now I’m done. You can go and play your twisted little games with someone else because I’m through with you.”

A hint of anger flashes in his eyes, but I’ve only stabbed the knife through his chest. I haven’t yet had a chance to twist it. “Hear me now, snake. If you even think about screwing with me again, I will make you wish you’d never met me.”

“Okay, you got me,” he says, stepping into the doorway, his foot positioned just right to keep me from being able to shut the door. He reaches up and grips the doorframe, looking like the fucking god I remember from the rooftop. “But be honest with yourself, you know there’s something between us. You felt it up on the roof, I know you did. And yeah, I might have told a little white lie, but don’t fuck this thing between us because of that.”

“Little white lie, huh?” I demand, a smirk settling onto my lips, and then without warning, I shoot my fist out, jabbing him right in the ribs where Sawyer had kicked him. He goes down like a sack of shit, falling out of my doorway and slamming into the wall on the opposite side of the hall, clutching his ribs. “You set me up to be kidnapped by your fucking psychopathic friends. You’re the worst of them all, a fucking snake. So yeah, there might have been something real up there on the roof, but let me be clear now. Any shred of feelings I might have had for you died in that fucking cell.”

Snapping my gaze back to Zade, I let him see the full extent of my rage. “You better watch your fucking back,” I warn him. “Nobody screws me over and gets away with it.” And with that, I slam the door between us, knowing without a doubt that I can’t possibly back down now.

Chapter 12

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