Have known.
“Who did this to me?!” She shrieks.
Even as she declares war on us, inciting a one-person riot, tossing accusations, I know she’s barely scratched the surface of who she’ll eventually become. She looks so goddamned beautiful—even in her rage-induced state—that no amount of buzz can dull that. Pride floods me as she refuses to back down even as she hurls accusations and insults between Sean and me.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
“。 . . You want me. Here I fucking am!”
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
“。 . . speak up, and you can come get your fucking prize!” With that, she strikes a Zippo in threat as Sean calls out to her in panic. “Cecelia, don’t!”
I can see it all over her. She has no intention of listening. Pushing off the wall, I start to move toward her, birds parting, a few of them tossing insults and ill-timed jokes at her expense.
“Bitch has lost her mind.”
“You must’ve dicked her good, Dom.”
Fixed on her, I steadily make my way toward her as they start to realize what she did before announcing her arrival.
“What the fuck? . . . She slashed our fucking tires!”
Raising a hand to shut them up, I keep my pace as she zeroes in on me with her threat. “I swear to God, Dominic. I’ll light this place up.”
Of that, I have no doubt, baby.
“Stop!” she orders, and I do.
“Why?” she looks between us, “Why?!” She turns then, giving us a view of her fresh ink. In my peripheral, I see Sean stiffen as the sight of it nauseates me, and she hurls more insults.
“。 . . cowards! You’re both fucking cowards!” She lashes between us before delivering a guttural blow. “I was never yours, and I never will be. Stay the fuck away from me!”
Hurt leaks through that declaration even as she seethes, and it’s evident Tobias isn’t going to be forgiven anytime soon.
Good.
Give him hell, baby.
Tyler looks to me for any clue as to how to handle this, but we created and nurtured the raven within her, and it’s starting to spread its wings as her ink settles in. That isn’t something that can just be handled.
Ha! You are so fucked big brother!
Question is, why isn’t Tobias here to clean up his own fucking mess?
Even as I think it, an unsettling inkling kicks in.
Something’s not right.
Tobias wouldn’t just mark her and abandon her.
Not a second later, the hairs on my neck lift as buzzes and pings sound around me.
Cecelia, too consumed by her tirade, continues to rage feet away. Tyler barks my name, and I pause my footing a second before he presses his burner to my ear, my brother’s voice ringing out. “Miami took a fucking contract on Roman! Get her somewhere safe! . . . Miami is coming!”
The adrenaline spike has me rushing her just as she tosses the cocktail down in a puddle of gas, igniting it and blocking me with a wall of flames. Jumping through them, they lick my forearms before I break through to see her already in her Jeep. Lunging forward, I manage to slam my fists on her hood for a second before it disappears beneath them, and she tears out, racing away.
Fuck.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
In an Instant, Tyler is next to me inspecting my skin, and I jerk away, knowing the damage is minimal as he starts to shout orders at the birds already scrambling around us. “Use whatever you can!”
Tyler speaks rapidly into his phone as my heartbeat ramps, filling my ears.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
“。 . . came here in a rage, asking who fucking marked her, T. She shredded every tire and threatened to light the place up. She looked fucking possessed, man. Why doesn’t she know? . . . Where the fuck have you been?!”
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
A long pause follows, and I know my brother is rapidly relaying a worthy explanation. As ruthless as he is, he wouldn’t have left Cecelia so exposed if he didn’t have a choice. Even as my brain reasons in his favor, I feel the resentment simmering beneath.
“Dom,” Tyler says, stretching the phone out to me.
“Don’t we have a track on her Jeep?” I ask, and Tyler jerks his chin.
“The fuck?!” I roar. “Why?”
“They were living together,” Tyler says on harsh exhale, “At Romans.” Sean visibly flinches from where he stands a foot away as I snatch the phone and curse the fact that I’m too drunk to fucking function properly. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Dom,” the panic in his voice has my fear elevating. “Listen to me, I’m begging you, listen to me.”
“I’m listening,” I snap.
“Roman didn’t do it. He didn’t kill Maman and Papa. I got it all wrong . . . Jesus Christ,” he roars.
“What?” It’s barely a whisper.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
“。 . . Dom! Are you there?”
“I’m here,” I say, as my focus flits to Tyler and Sean, who can hear every shouted word, their wide eyes glued to me as I put the phone on speaker.
“Roman didn’t do it.”
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
“How do you know?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
“Because he just fucking told me,” Tobias croaks.
“What?” The ground starts to feel like it’s moving beneath me as my breaths become labored while the weight of his words sink in.
My head starts spinning with answered questions while more begin to circulate.
“Dom?!”
“Yeah,” I croak as he talks over me, and I pinch my temples, a headache forming behind them.
“。 . . his office, Roman knew we were coming for him, Dom. He’s fucking known.”
Tyler, Sean, and I stare in disbelief at the burner in my hand.
“It was an accident,” Tobias says, tone rattled, “Dom . . . it was Diane . . . she was pregnant with Cecelia. Roman didn’t do it.”
Why would he allow us near her? Why would he . . . I gape at the phone as the answer snakes its way in. Because we couldn’t even fool our fucking enemy of our affection for his daughter.
What confounds me just after that is that he was never our enemy.
Head racing as the missing pieces we’ve been searching years for lock into place, the first car fires up feet away. Turning toward the sound, I spot Jeremy speeding past us and out of the parking lot, flying in the direction Cecelia fled. As another car fires up, Denny shouts orders along with Russell as they call out a map of roads to search and set blocks on.
“Keep your goddamn phones close,” Tyler shouts as a final order before starting his truck and waving toward me. “Get in. You’re fucking drunk.”
“Dom!” Tobias shouts over the phone. “Brother . . . I’m begging you, talk to me!”
“I hear you,” is all I can say as panic rises and emotions start to burn away at my alcohol-laced blood by the second.
“I’m in Roman’s car,” Tobias relays, and I catch on to why.
He’s trying to lure them in.
“I’m following,” I tell him as I desperately try to break through the whiskey haze.
“I can’t speed, or they’ll suspect we’re onto them. That’s if they’re not already here. We’re flying completely blind. I have no clue who ordered the hit, and the two birds on watch said they don’t know how long they’ve been missing. They followed them home last night and must have slipped out undetected this morning. I’m going to try to lure them in.”