Chapter 12

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"My dark days made me strong. Or maybe I was already strong, and they made me prove it."

Emery, Lord

LUKE

I take her to my suite, there's no reason to keep her from New York now that's she's not running. I'm not a coward, I don't hide. That was never my purpose of the cabin. Weston or his men don't scare me, and they can't touch me with my men aware.

We can relax now, I've got my best searching. Avery's plan holds Merritt. I would have gone the easier, cleaner route. Feeding him to the alligators. I can't deny the poetic justice of her plan, and I know she would need a lot more than pills after making a call like that. It's worth the extra effort to keep her whole.

She's asleep on my bed, her scent filling the air. I've been hard since she set foot in the place. Thinking of all the spots, I could make use of her new lusty appetite. Over the lounger, on the bench, in the shower, up against the glass while looking over New York. I think that ones my favorite. In time, we'll use all those places and more. I can't sleep. My adrenaline is still high. Too many unresolved issues. I can't seem to look away from Avery either. She looks so beautiful and peaceful. She hasn't needed her pills as often, I'd like to think I'm part of the reason she's been better.
My phone vibrates. It's Oliver. He's found something useful. I message him to bring it to the penthouse.

Pouring a scotch, I sit in the chair opposite Avery and watch her slow, steady breaths. It calms me something the scotch fails to do. In fact, I can't remember a time I've been so relaxed, despite what's happening. Even before Mortalcine, I was restless. I don't know how long I sit and stare at her.

When Oliver arrives, his eyes wonder over to my bed, and I stand in front of Avery blocking his view.
"What did you find?"
I'm curt. He gets the picture and brushes past the misstep. He knows It's a courtesy I'll only extend once.
Oliver lays a folder on the desk. He informs me that Ray was planning to empty his accounts and run away with Weston's secretary. Which Weston professes to love. The secretary is missing as of this morning, and his sources say there's an active hit on Ray as of last night.

"Christ!"

So not only do I have to convince the man that delivered me to Mortalcine, to put his brother, aka one of the most publicly powerful men in the world, away. I also have to save him first, with a ticking clock I might add.

"Put the word out. Nobody touches Ray. Let everyone know he's Luke's property. Say it's for revenge."
Still the truth, just on a different scumbag, same litter. Oliver leaves getting straight to work. I remind myself to give him a raise. If things go as Avery planned we'll give Ray the dirt. If he's smart and fast, Ray will beat Weston to the punch.

With business squared away, I retreat to my bedroom and lay next to Avery. Her eyebrows crease. It seems she's having an unpleasant dream. I lightly massage her temples, her supple skin warms under my ministrations. I place a soft kiss on her lips, and a smile slowly forms. I think this woman can make me want again. I've never wanted anything or anyone as badly as I do her. I'd give it all up for her. Everything I built. It's in that moment that I realize poverty wasn't what hurt me growing up. It was the lack of love. Having no one to lean on, to care for me. I want to be that for her. I want to be her everything.

My phone goes off. It's Oliver again. He needs me to meet him downtown. Christ! I'm reluctant to leave her. I know my men will keep her safe, but my gut tells me not to let her out of my sights. I reply to Oliver, asking if my presence is necessary. I already know if it wasn't, I would not have received the text. He sends another confirming my thoughts. I reluctantly get up, placing a light kiss on her forehead.

I scan the area as I pull up to the address. Oliver's escalade is parked behind a bank. I wonder if this is about the contents of Weston's deposit box. This situation doesn't seem right, Oliver should be on Ray's tail, not sniffing out more information. Maybe he's a step ahead and gathering evidence on Weston for Ray. It still doesn't fit. Avery has more than enough.

I step out cautiously, walking up to the window, and peek inside. Oliver lays lifeless over the steering wheel, a bullet wound to the head. My pulse flat lines, it's a setup.
Fuck!
Avery!

I try to relax as I speed through stop signs and maneuver around cars at red lights. It's been forty-seven minutes since I left the building. It's secured so tightly a tick couldn't slip through without my knowing. I have enough men surrounding the place it would take an army to bypass. I say these things repeatedly, but it does nothing to ease my mind.

Weston is smart, one man, that's all he had to use, and he figured out which one. Traffic frustrates me, I can only do so much without ramming my way through. I hop the sidewalk and cut over a few city blocks and make it to the apartment in record time. What should take over twenty minutes has taken seven, but it's not enough, I need to see her. Now!

As I head to my suite, everything is in place, with no breaches. I try not to panic, but I can't until I'm holding her in my arms. My hands shake when I press the button to my floor repeatedly. My doors are still locked, and yet I can't shake the feeling something is wrong. My eyes go directly to the bed. It's empty.
I frantically search the apartment. She's not here. Panic grips my chest, giving me pain and tightness. I call up the front desk. He doesn't even know that Avery has left. I ask if he stepped away at all? When he admits, I fire him, not even giving him a chance to explain. My men at the front have seen nothing. My men at the back, however, have collected thirteen bodies tonight, losing one man. They assure me Avery has not left the building.

I order a full sweep of the place before everyone is up and out of the building. I still can't find her, and it's taking too long. We go over video footage from all angles, time seems to waste away, and I'm ready to blow the building up when I see her. She's wearing my hat and sweater. She slips by the front desk clerk I fired (if he wasn't already gone I'd be beating him to a pulp at this moment.) She slips out the staff door while the clerk is occupied by the disturbance at the back entrance. He's gone thirty seconds tops, but it's enough. I pull at my hair in frustration. I know she wouldn't just leave; we have a plan. I call Brian when I'd usually call Oliver, but he's gone. I get him to pull her phone records and try to get a track on her cell.

I've watched the video multiple times. I can just get a glimpse of her face. It's a fraction of a second. It's enough, I know that look. She's frightened. I lose my shit and punch the screen with a guttural yell. It shatters. Blood wells from the multiple lacerations multiple glass shards cut into my fist. I leave before I can do any more damage.

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