Vendetta (21 page)

“No,” I say, knowing what will happen next. “And you know I can’t let you do that, either.”

She cocks the gun and shoots. Just like that. I find myself on the wet pavement, a dull ache shooting through my whole upper body. I raise my head, looking around, not exactly sure what just happened. Then the pain comes, the real, excruciating pain slicing through my arm. I want to move, but even thinking about it hurts like hell. She hovers over me, looking through my jacket, stubbornly avoiding my gaze. My eyes are half-closed as it is, the unconsciousness taking over. She finds what she was looking for. If I weren't dying, I'd laugh. My phone. My stupid fucking phone.

I've laid it all out for her perfectly. Her fucking hero.

I close my eyes, finding it hard to open them again.

“Dom, it's Leighton,” she says, barely audible through the whooshing wind in my ears. She's calling Dom. I don't know why I need to remember it, seeing as I'm dying, but I know I need to remember she called Dom. “I'm at the abandoned parking lot at the harbor, near the ferry terminal. Can you come?” A pause. “We can talk about that later, Dom, just come, please. Hurry.”

Something presses into my shoulder and it hurts even more than I thought imaginable, pulling me further under. “You're going to be okay,” she tells me, as I hear a car pull into the parking lot. Her lips press against mine. “I'm sorry,” she whispers, and then she leaves.

LEIGHTON

Stuffing the phone in my pocket, I get in the car, sparing Devon one last glance. I know he'll be fine because they'll find him soon, and in a few days he’ll be okay. At least, physically. It's the emotional wounds that never heal. As much as running away with him sounds like the perfect option, I have to save my family. I love Devon with everything in me, but I wouldn’t be the person I am if I just let my family die. I love them, and I’m not that selfish. This was the only way.

“Dom, just drive,” I tell my cousin, my voice breaking. Dom flashes me an odd look before taking off.

“Are you okay?” he asks, staring straight ahead. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I just need to see Dad . . . then I’ll be fine,” I ramble. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to block out what just happened. What I just did. I close my eyes but instantly see his face, so I open them and stare out the window. Looks like I will never be able to close my eyes or sleep again without seeing his broken expression.

And I deserve nothing less.

“How’s Dad? Has he been looking for me? What’s happened since I was gone?” I ask him in a rush. I need to know what’s been going on—do they suspect anything about Devon’s family?

“We’ll talk when we get there,” he answers. “I let him know you called. What the hell happened with you? I thought you were in Ireland, though you never said anything about going and it seemed weird.”

“I didn’t leave, Dom. I was taken by the Andres. They’re planning this whole thing to take us down, all of us.”

His head snaps sharply to look at me. “I had no fucking idea, Leighton. Keith said you went off to Ireland.” I frown. Did he not hear what I just said? “He even sent your mom after you.”

“He did?” So he must have really thought I’d left. If I didn’t save myself, no help would have come anyway.

“You’re safe now,” Dom says, affection evident in his voice. “I wish I’d known, baby girl. I’d have come for you myself.”

I reach out with my hand and grasp his tightly in mine. We may not be biological siblings, but I’ve seen him as my brother my whole life. “I know,” I say. How was he supposed to know if my own dad had no idea?

I look out the window again, take a deep breath and then turn my head to my cousin. When I do, he glances at me, smiling. “Watch out!” I yell, grabbing for the steering wheel and swerving sharply off the road to avoid two cars parked across the street. The car stops almost immediately in a shallow ditch just off the side of the road.

“Are you okay?” Dom asks.

I nod, checking myself over. “Who the hell is that?”

My eyes widen when I see two armed men dressed in all-black approach the car, and open the door. I even recognize one of them as our own man. Dom steps outside and dusts himself off casually, giving me a once over as they grab me and make me stand, binding my wrists and covering my head with a black bag.

“What took you guys so long?” I hear Dom ask. After a moment of silence, he says, “Never mind, let’s just go before someone sees us.”

* * * *

“I didn’t want to have to hurt you, Leighton,” he says, his voice sounding honest. “I thought you’d be taken care of by now, and I wouldn’t have to.”

I sag deeper into the chair, chastising myself over and over again for fucking up so bad. I shot the love of my love for my blood, my family. To protect them. And yet here I am: handcuffed to a chair by my own cousin in some dingy storage room that smells like fish. I have no idea where we are.

This whole thing is one huge mess, and I’m right in the center of it. I shot Devon, and now I’m going to die at the hands of someone who shares the same last name as me. Fate and karma have banded together to make me their bitch. There’s no other explanation.

I laugh humorously at the thought, earning me an odd look from Dom, like
I’m
the crazy person here. He keeps trying to talk to me; it’s like he just enjoys the sound of his own voice. I don’t really care what he has to say because he is dead to me. If I get a chance to get out of here, I’ll make sure he pays for this.

We took him in as our own. I saw him as my brother.

The door opens and George walks in. I’m not surprised one bit. However when Stevie walks in, followed by that Devon’s sleazy friend, Danny, smirking at me, my mouth gapes open in shock.

“And the plot thickens,” I whisper under my breath, my eyes not leaving Danny’s bulging ones. What exactly is going on here?

“Surprised to see me?” Stevie taunts. I school my expression, and turn my eyes to Dom, who is watching me closely, a thoughtful look on his face. I thought my cousin was smarter than this. Allying yourself with traitors clearly isn’t the smartest move. I can sense a desperation about him that confuses me. I’m obviously just a pawn in this game, a weapon to use against my father.

“If you’re going to kill me can you get it over with? I’ve had enough of death threats with no delivery as of late,” I sneer at my cousin. I remember saying similar words to Devon, but I never thought he would actually go through with it. This time, I’m not so confident.

“I’d love to have a little fun with her,” Danny says, his leering eyes making me cringe. “What a waste.” He gives my body a once over.

“You’ll definitely have to kill me first before that happens,” I mutter, my pulse racing.

Danny’s hands clench into fists, but Stevie just laughs. “It’s a possibility,” he says.

Sick bastard. I turn to Dom, who is sending a dangerous look Stevie’s way. He apparently doesn’t appreciate Stevie’s comment. So death is okay, but rape is out. Good to know. I can feel someone watching me so I turn to see George staring at me. I narrow my eyes at him. I don’t drop his gaze, not backing down.

He swallows nervously before he opens his mouth. “Why didn’t Devon kill you?” he finally asks, a curious glint entering his eyes. Stevie grins cruelly, and is about to answer when his phone rings. He walks out, his loud obnoxious voice booming on the other side of the door.

“Can I have some water?” I ask my cousin, smacking together my parched lips. Dom gestures to Danny, who leaves the room and returns with an iced bottle of water. Dom takes it from Danny and opens the lid, handing it over to me. I reach out with my free hand, licking my dry lips before taking a sip. I tilt my head back and swallow a mouthful before placing the bottle on the ground next to the chair leg.

“I’ll bring you something to eat in a little while,” he says, leaning back against his chair.

“I don’t want food. I want to go home. Alive,” I say pointedly. He can’t seriously be doing this.

“Your father screwed me and my father over. It’s time he gets what’s coming to him,” he says, staring out the window.

“My father took you in as his own son!
Your
father wouldn’t want this. He understands the basic concept of loyalty,” I tell him, and it’s the truth. My uncle, who is also my godfather, has always been kind to me, and when push came to the shove, he took one for the family. “Dom,” I say softly, my eyes pleading with his. He runs his hand through his dark hair, and then leans his head back against the wall.

“I’m sorry. There are a few things I want, and you’re in the way,” he says, pinning me with his gaze.

“What things?” I ask curiously, shifting on the chair.

“Revenge, power . . . ” he trails off, then turns his evil stare on me. “I should be the boss, not your dad.” Revenge and power? The boss? Like that would ever go down well. I roll my eyes. Great, my cousin has morphed into a cliché villain. He stands up, and I start to panic.

“Where are you going?” I ask, unable to mask my worry.

“To see if there are any loose ends,” he answers distractedly, eyes on his phone. “Have to go back to that fucking parking lot, make sure you finished that asshole Andre off.”

“You can’t leave me here with them!” I gape, turning to stare at the door. My wrist pulls against the handcuff, the pain making me wince.

“No one touches her until I get back, do you understand?” Dom says to George, his voice laced with an underlying threat. George nods once.

“Dom!” I yell after him, hating the neediness existent even to my own ears. My cousin ignores me, and storms out of the room, leaving me with George and Danny.

“Fuck,” I curse as the door locks shut. I
did not
come all this way just to get killed by these idiots. I
did not
shoot Devon only to die at the hands of my own cousin. I look down at my wrist; the red welts around it are burning in pain. Lifting my head, I slowly raise my eyes to George’s. I don’t know what he sees in them, but he takes a step back, and looks down at the floor. In that moment, I realize something. I need to stick with him. He’s the only one of them I know, and with him, I can at least protect myself somehow.

sixteen

DEVON

“I love you, too.” The beautiful melody surrounds me and grips my chest, until I can't breathe anymore. A gunshot rings through the night and straight through my heart, shattering her words.

My eyes fly open. For the second it takes me to adjust to the darkness in the room, I think I might have dreamed the whole thing. Then pain slices through my shoulder and all the way down to my fingertips. I try to move my arm, clenching my teeth because it hurts like a motherfucker.

“The meds have worn off,” a silhouette says, standing in the corner. He comes closer, turns on the lamp and sits in the chair next to the bed, looking at me as if for the first time. “I'll have them give you more, but we need you conscious right now.”

The bed is not mine. The sheets smell like detergent, artificially fresh. Nothing like her.

My uncle leans his elbows on the bed, making eye contact. I look away, ashamed. By now he must know what I've done, and how I've betrayed us. Our name.

And for what?

Finally I look back at him. He doesn't look good at all. Actually, I think this might be the first time I've seen him look so . . . distraught. He runs his hands through his hair, pulling on its ends. He looks his age. His features are softer, his eyes younger, but worry wrinkles his forehead. The mask he usually keeps on is nowhere to be seen. It catches me off guard, just how much alike we are. No wonder people think we're brothers.

“What happened out there?” he asks. There's no anger in his voice. It takes me a beat to realize he doesn't sound disappointed, either.

I open my mouth to speak, but my throat is so parched I can't say a word. Frank quickly takes a glass and pours some water from a plastic bottle in it, then brings it to my lips.

“I don't know,” I say after a few more sips. Because I don't know. One minute we were almost free, the next I was at a gunpoint. “I don't know what happened.”

“Think, anything. We need to know whatever you can remember.”

“She just shot me.” It fucking hurts to say it.

Frank nods, then gets up and walks out of the room. I glance around the unfamiliar walls, thinking it looks cold, despite the lamp warm light. I look down my body, and lift the covers to find two layers of blankets and a duvet. Frank comes back in with a woman, and she comes closer, flashing a light into my eyes, blinding me.

“He doesn't seem disoriented.”

The woman nods, opening my eyes wider and flashing the light into them again.

“I'm not disoriented,” I tell them. I don't feel disoriented.

“Can you tell me your name?” the woman asks in a soft, soothing voice. Her red lips bring back a flash of memory, like this is not the first time she's asked me this question.

“It's Devon,” I snap, narrowing my own eyes at her.

“Devon,” my uncle says in warning. He looks at her. “I think he's fine, Aileen. Thank you.”

She nods again, then takes out a pill bottle from her pocket, and puts it on the small table next to the bed. She points at her shoulder and smiles kindly, saying, “For the pain.” Then she turns around and leaves the room.

Frank waits until she's out before speaking. “Stupid kids. You could have died out there in the cold, freezing to death. If we didn’t find you in time—” He shakes his head condescendingly as he says it. As far as words of comfort go, it’s not much. “That was an incredibly stupid thing to do, Devon.”

He's telling me.

“She tried to kill me,” I say in disbelief. What surprises me is I'm not angry. Rationally, I shouldn't have expected anything less from her. Her whole family is in danger. If the tables were turned, I'd probably have done the same.

“You'd be dead,” Keith Moore says, standing at the door.

I jerk at the sound of his voice, another shot of pain racing through my arm, but it’s seeing him that makes me furious. What the fuck? I look at my uncle, and he has the decency to look apologetic. I've never felt so betrayed in my entire life, and this is hours after the woman I love shot me without a second thought.