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And that’s when my self-control finally snaps.
A deep roar bubbles up my throat, ending on aguish that feels like it might rip me to shreds. Without a second’s hesitation, I grab the entire nightstand and throw it across the room until it shatters into pieces at Logan’s feet.
This is all my fucking fault.
My vision goes red and hazy, my hands clenching to hit something. To break something. Destroy someone as badly as I am.
“Mason!” Savannah gasps, but Logan wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her back from the room. She stares at me in horror, but I don’t stop. I can’t.
They fucking took her.
And she let them.
Inky blackness seeps into my veins, caustic and burning full of rage and hate. With a guttural growl, I whip the dresser to the floor and it splinters into pieces. All sense of my humanity slips away until there’s just a gaping black void full of wrath.
“Back,” Logan orders Mila, who falls back into the hallway, her eyes wide and full of tears.
I grab a vase on the dresser and throw it against the wall so it shatters. And because that does absolutely nothing for me, I grab the chaise lounge in the corner of the room and topple that over, too.
My hearing fades as if I’m underwater, the current battering me down into the dark clutches below the light where nothing but the icy cold black can reach me.
My hands grab for anything in reach and I break it, too. I don’t give a fuck what it is, if it’s there, I’m shattering it until it lays in the ruins along with my fucking sanity.
She’s gone. She’s fucking gone and it’s because of me.
When I’m done, my body aching and my breathing ragged, I look around at the destruction—my destruction—and fall to my knees.
A throat clears and another vase is thrust in front of me.
“Break this one, too,” Mom says, her soft voice absolute. “They’re ugly. I always hated them.”
When I don’t take it, she shrugs and tosses it, watching as the bits of ceramic scatter across her hardwood floor.
We sit there, on our knees, my chest heaving and her silent.
“There’s something else.”
Mom’s gaze snaps to Logan but he and I both understand how this works.
Bad shit happens in threes.
“Ian?” I grit, my teeth clenched to the point of nearly snapping my jaw.
Logan meets my gaze from where he stands, my sister's wide eyes peeking out over his shoulders.
“Dead,” he murmurs, expression tinged with something close to pride and acceptance. “She shot him with your gun.”
Pride swells in my chest, but it’s tainted by something darker.
That motherfucker betrayed me. My best fucking friend betrayedus.I trusted him with her life.My fucking souland he desecrated her.
Fuck, I want to bleed the life from his eyes.
“I have it on good authority that they have his little sister, too. Jenna.”
Truthfully, I don’t give a fuck who else they have. They havemygirl. My vision blurs at all the possible things they could do to her.
What they could have already done to her.
