We were still laughing as dinnertime reached us and we headed on down to the dining room, taking our places opposite Devon and Francesca at the table.
Throughout the meal the women were talking nonstop about the West End and the red carpet and the musical, but there was a secret nod between Devon and me across the table as soon as his cell buzzed with a ping. He excused us for some business conversation after dessert, leaving the ladies chatting about the next series of musicals due for the West End.
I knew exactly where we were going. I walked alongside Devon Quentin without a word, following his march through the manor grounds to the paddock at the bottom of the pasture.
The outbuilding was there, standing tall.
“I’ll leave you here,” he said, and slapped a hand between my shoulders. “Everything you asked for has been delivered. Nobody is close enough to hear a thing.”
I tipped my head. “Much appreciated.”
“I’ll make sure the women enjoy their girly evening, I’m sure they will be very distracted,” he assured me.
I had no doubt about that.
Devon left me standing there in the twilight. I flexed my knuckles before I stepped up to the main barn entrance, swinging the big wooden door wide open to step inside.
There were two figures hanging from a whole set of shackles of their own, only this time there were no spotlights like in Club Explicit, just some orange glowing lanterns to allow me to see. There was no crowd cheering for the hurt, just two sick fucks begging that I didn’t kill them. Begging that there had been a misunderstanding and they had never crossed the Morellis.
It gave me a huge rush of pleasure to tell Baron Rawlings and Lord Eddington that it wasn’t the Morellis I was taking retribution for. It gave me an ever huger rush of pleasure to tell them exactly who I was claiming retribution for and why.
Elaine Constantine, because I loved her. Because I adored her. Because she was the woman of my dreams and heart and whole fucking soul.
I showed them how much I loved her with every slash of the blade. I paid them back for every time they’d taken sick pleasure from the woman I loved by taking sick pleasure of my own from hurting them.
They’d been begging for their lives when I’d first stepped in to join them. They were begging for their deaths when I finally pulled my cell out of my pocket and told them to confess their sins on camera.
They confessed their sins. They gave me the details of the fellowship onscreen and how they’d been a part of it and just what the fuck they’d done. There was a truth in their eyes and voices that could never be disputed. Their memories matching and perfect. Memories of themselves, and Reverend Lynch, and the other fools still on my list to be wiped out for ever.
Plus memories of the sicko at the center of Elaine’s fate—Lionel Constantine and how he’d delivered her for her abuse when she was nothing more than a gentle little girl looking for acceptance and love.
It was well into the night when I finally stepped back out from the barn, my shirt red and slick, leaving two corpses behind me, still in chains. My hands were tainted scarlet, blood crusted under my fingernails.
There was only Devon in the sitting room when I arrived back into the manor. He gave me a nod and pressed a button on his cell phone, no doubt to alert the cleanup team.
I said two simple words that were straight from my cold black heart.
“Thank you.”
“You need a cleanup team of your own,” he laughed, gesturing at my outfit.
“I’m sure Elaine will help me out on that front,” I laughed back. “And on that note.”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “Six a.m. start?”
“I’ll be ready,” I told him, and I would be. I’d be preened and polished and ready to begin a whole new week of deals and planning and negotiations. Both business and pleasure. Pleasure of the greatest kind on earth.
Elaine was watching another round of crappy TV when I walked through the bedroom door. Her eyes shot straight over to me, and her mouth dropped open as she scrabbled to her feet, dashing on over to run her hands up and down my bloodied chest, checking me over.
“Not mine,” I reassured her and took hold of her hands to kiss her knuckles.
“Then whose?” she asked. “What the hell happened?!”
I told her. Slowly.
I watched her soak in the details, breaths hitching with an obvious combination of relief and gratitude that I’d destroyed the evil cunts for her. She cried pretty, moving tears that almost choked me up to match.
We took a shower when I finished recounting the events and she soaped me down, scrubbing me with delicate fingers, watching the blood swirl away down the drain.
Then it was her turn to say the two simple words, straight from her heart. Only her heart wasn’t cold and black. Hers was warm and loving. Beautiful like the rest of her as her eyes pooled with a fresh round of tears.
“Thank you.”
“I don’t deserve a thank you,” I told her. “The pleasure was mine.”
I meant it. I’d do whatever it took to make my princess happy in life. I’d love and protect and serve. I’d hurt, and barter, and bribe. I’d raise her on a pedestal for the whole world to see, and savor every heartbeat of her in my arms.
And I’d show her that.
I’d show her that in no uncertain terms very soon, in a whole different way than killing two of the pieces of shit who emotionally killed her.
I’d show her right at the top of the London Eye, right where she belonged.
29
Elaine
I had no idea where we were going in the limo but life was buzzing around us as we headed into London from Quentin Manor. They weren’t with us, Devon and Francesca. This wasn’t one of the premieres we’d been talking about, and this wasn’t a late-night visit to Club Explicit that Lucian and I had been planning. This was something else. Something that had Lucian in a new tailored tuxedo and me in the little black dress I’d picked out so happily with Francesca.
There were security vehicles surrounding the limo as we drove into the city, keeping our safety their priority. So far there had been no sign of attack from either my family or Lucian’s, and it was seeming to be less likely—security growing stronger and associates promising even greater protection.
Maybe, just maybe, we’d be safe in our new future. I was daring to believe it.
I shot forward in my seat when the pods of the London Eye appeared in view, and my heart leapt as I pressed my face to the window, because I knew it right there and then. I knew just where we were headed.
“Really?!” I asked Lucian with a squeal. “We’re going to the Eye?!”
God, his smirk.
“Wait and see.”
I couldn’t sit still. I just couldn’t. I was squirming back and forth, my attention zipping from him to the window and back again on constant loop, still flying high with the excitement.
Oh my God, we were going to do it. We were going to ride the London Eye as the sun set, lighting up the river Thames in perfection. It would be PERFECTION!
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I gushed at Lucian as the limo pulled up at the entrance, next to the line barriers.
Except there were no line barriers. Not tonight. There was only a red carpet, lined with security guards and attendants.