Page 68 of Vows of Ruin

“I’ll be right there.”

I tuck a stray piece of hair behind Daisy's ear. “Get some rest, okay?”

She nods, but her eyes go back to Wrecker. He steps closer, crouching near the edge of the bed. “I have to go,” he says softly. “But my friends will be here. They’ll keep you safe. Doc is going to want to check you out, okay?”

She nods but doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll come back and take you all somewhere better. Somewhere safe.” He tells her.

Daisy hesitates, then gives another small nod. She believes him. I think we all do.

Out in the car, it’s quiet for a while before Wrecker exhales hard, like he’s been holding it for hours.

“Fucking fourteen,” he mutters. “She reminds me of my little sister.”

Torque, in the front seat, glances back. “Yeah. I thought so too.”

“You have a sister?” I ask Wrecker.

“Had,” he says quietly. “She passed away when we were kids. Heart defect. Nothing could’ve saved her.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

He nods once. “Me too.”

The SUV rolls to a stop outside Matthew’s safehouse. Torque kills the engine, and for a moment, no one moves. We all know what’s coming. Reaper’s quiet. Max’s jaw ticks. Wrecker cracks his knuckles waiting for someone to give him a reason to be unleashed.

As we step inside, the air is colder and emptier than what we left behind. The other house started to cause a feeling of relief, here it’s more like sinking despair. Tied to a chair in the middle of the room like some sorry little offering sits Matthew. My blood surges. I storm across the floor and kick him square in the chest. The chair crashes back with a crack of wood and bone, the breath whooshing out of him as he hits the ground.

“What the hell is going on?” he wheezes.

I’m already on him. I drop down, kneeling on his chest, my knees digging into his ribs. He gasps, struggling against the ropes, but he’s not going anywhere. I slide my dagger free, let the point rest just under his eye. Just enough pressure to make him sweat.

“Matthew,” I murmur, voice low and deceptively calm. “You’ve been a very naughty boy.”

I sigh, glancing around the men standing in a loose circle around us. Reaper. Max. Torque. Wrecker. Silent sentinels.

I click my tongue “I don’t see how you get out of this alive.” I add, looking back at him. “Unless you start talking.”

His breath hitches. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Wrong answer.” I push just enough to nick skin. He flinches, trying to turn his head, but I hold him still with a palm to his forehead. “How long has Sebastian been back?”

“I—I don’t know,” he stammers. “He was supposed to be in Lisbon. I’m supposed to meet him there next week, I swear—”

I laugh. It’s not pretty. I lean closer, bringing the tip of the blade close to his eye. “I wonder how much force it would take to pop one of these out,” I whisper, watching the panic bloom in his face. “Quick little scoop? Or slow twist?”

He squeezes his eyes shut like it’ll help. Coward.

“Help me,” he pleads, head turning toward the others. “You can’t just let her—”

Reaper snorts. “Let her?”

Max crosses his arms. “Clearly, you’ve never seen a woman in control before.”

Matthew’s gaze bounces between them. No help. No mercy. Just four men who know exactly who their queen is. And right now? She’s not feeling generous.

Chapter Twenty-Eight