Darius built a nursery. I saw a prison.
And it relieved me that Bumper would never rest within any crib in Darius Bennett’s possession.
“You disappointed me, my dear. I told you I expected a son.”
“I live to disappoint you.”
“Not for much longer.”
I held his gaze. “And if the baby is yours? You’d kill her before she’s even born?”
“Why should I tolerate inferior blood blending with the Bennett line? I should earn something in my sacrifice.”
“Your sacrifice?”
“The only reason I let an Atwood within my home, at my table, in my bed was to breed her like a common bitch.” Darius exhaled. “And even that was too complicated for you.”
He was on me before I reacted. His hand tightened over my throat, and he slammed me against the wall.
“You failed me, child.” His growl sliced through me. “For the last time. No more second chances. No more begging. No more alliances with my sons. It’s just you and me, Sarah Atwood, and you will answer for your every failure.”
The leash choked the air from me. He hauled me from the nursery like an errant dog through the halls, deliberately watching me twist and gasp to match his awkward gait. The collar dug into my neck.
The humiliation would be over soon enough.
The elevator was too easy a trip for me. Darius forced us through the narrow stairwell to the estate’s roof—half designer garden, half-helipad. The helicopter waited, and Max handed his father a set of ear-muffs for the ride. He didn’t afford me the same courtesy.
“I’ve decided to take you home, my dear. Back to the farm, back to Daddy and the ashes of your brothers. Consider it my last kindness.” His sneer would forever etch into my memory, worse than any touch of his lips or fingers. “If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even kill you before I stuff you in their graves.”
My words didn’t waver. I lifted my chin, a hope for the final blow.
“I hate you.”
Darius sneer, his arm raised to strike.
The slap never landed.
The crack of Darius’s skull shattered the night with a sickening crunch.
His eyes met mine in a moment of utter confusion, pain, and dismay. The leash released from his hand just as his worthless body crumbled at my feet.
Soundless.
Harmless.
And still I lurched away. Still I let even the spreading shadow of an unconscious man force me to hide my body, my face, my fear.
I told myself I would never again fear Darius Bennett.
Standing over his vulnerable body made me more terrified than ever.
One last thing to do. One last crime to commit. One last injustice to be sated.
The lights flipped on, flooding the helipad with artificial brightness. Nicholas stepped forward, the butt of his gun stained with his father’s blood. He touched my cheek.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
The tears came now, weepy only from the surge of adrenaline that threatened to topple me.
“Why did you wait so long?” I pushed him away. “I thought you’d get him in the house.”
“We didn’t have a clear shot.”
“I used my safe word.”
Nicholas nodded. “And I was there, like I said I would be.”
God, this was a horrible plan.
And, of course, it had been my idea.
“Darius thinks he’s broken me,” I said.
My step-brothers did too. They sat in silence within the penthouse. Reed sullen. Nicholas still. And Max, half-drunk with bruises and the fat lip it took for his brothers to drag him back to me.
“He expects that I’ll kill Max.” I didn’t look at him. Speaking his name was difficult enough. “That I want him to answer for my brothers. But this isn’t about an eye-for-an-eye anymore. This is about chopping the head off the snake. Now’s our chance.”
Nicholas agreed. “Max, you have an opportunity to get close to Dad. If you go to him—”
Max sneered. “He’ll kill me.”
“Not if you offer him what he wants.”
“And what’s that?”
I spoke for him. For them. For Bumper.
For the only way we’d ever secure our future.
“He wants me.”
Reed burst from the shadows, tucking a gun into the waistband of his jeans before approaching. He didn’t smile, but the burden eased from his shoulders. He bent down to grab his unconscious father. Max hopped from the helicopter to help. Together they stuffed Darius into the cabin and slammed the doors.
Just as I planned. Just as we wanted.
But I didn’t feel any better.
The fear didn’t fade. The pain. The grief.
It was all still there, tucked in deep and pounding at my heart.
“He hurt you.” Nicholas touched the bruise on my cheek. I held his hand.
“Wasn’t him.”
Max didn’t apologize. “She’ll heal.”
I was tired of healing. I didn’t want to hurt anymore.
Reed brushed beside me, offering me the gun. I took it. Just the feel of the metal left me sick and trembling.
Nicholas’s voice hollowed. “I won’t take this from you. If you want, Max will lead you somewhere…quiet. You can pull the trigger yourself.”
The thought excited and sickened me. “How many bullets in this gun?”
Max tightened his jaw. “Enough to take out me and Dad, if that’s what you’re asking.”
It was. I swallowed.
Eight months of torment and rage, captivity and pain.
How many more of my brothers needed to die before this feud ended? Before our revenge was sated?
Dad would’ve demanded it. Forced it. My brothers died because of Max Bennett. But killing Max wouldn’t bring Josiah and Mike back. Killing him wouldn’t give my baby the uncle she needed.
And killing Darius?
I trembled, rocked with guilt and rage and the hopeless fear that we’d forever torture ourselves, trapped in a mire of regret and remorse and revenge.
It would never end, not until the last drop of Bennett and Atwood blood stained the earth.
I lowered the gun.
“You do it. I don’t want to know. Do it and we’ll never speak of him again.”
Max nodded. “Baby—”
I turned without listening for any words he might have said or apologies he might have given or insults he might have thrown.
Peace only meant blood wouldn’t spill. It dictated nothing about forgiveness.
Nicholas and Reed followed as the helicopter’s lights seared the rooftop. Max slipped in the cockpit as the monster roared to life. I didn’t bother watching.
I saw everything I needed to see.
Darius lay across the floor of the helicopter. Not dead, yet. Max would finish that and ensure his body was never recovered.
Then Max promised after it was done, he would never come near me again.
I hadn’t asked him for that concession.
I wept in exhaustion by the time I reached the stairs, but the tears only aided my escape. I burst from the front doors as the tremors and aches, wheezing and coughs, grief and despair rolled through me.
Nicholas held me, but I wasn’t prepared for his touch. For his closeness.
To even think it had worked. A hasty plan, drawn in the night. Without subtlety, without remorse.
One chance to end it all, and we were free.
Was that it? Was this freedom?
It hurt more than ever, especially knowing Max risked his life to approach Darius, to set the plan in motion, to betray his father from inside the estate.
This plan was nothing but danger, but Max didn’t hesitate. He agreed to help. No questions asked. He only wanted another chance to ask for my forgiveness.