Page 71 of Fool Me Twice

A sharp pain in the side of his leg sent Cane stumbling, an officer holding a baton appearing at the side of him. Another flanked his other side and hit the other leg, making him collapse to his knees. He growled and swore as he was physically restrained by his arms.

“You were warned,” the officer in front of him said.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Cane yelled at Ares.

He tried to shake off the hold the men had on him, but they gripped tighter despite their hands slipping in his sweat and blood.

“Mister Redding alerted us to an illegal fight being conducted here,” the first officer said. “As you are very much aware, illegal fighting and gambling is against Slatehollow law.”

“You have no proof!” Cane spat. “My shit is aboveboard.”

“We have testimony from your right-hand man, and you have a history of illegal activity,” the officer said. “More than enough for this warrant and your arrest. We can discuss the rest in a cell. Let’s go.”

Cane struggled as he was hauled to his feet, scanning the chaos for Hart again as he was dragged away.

He spotted Fix’s hulking figure bent down over someone and his heart stopped, only to see him helping up the waifish blond callboy who frequented his place. He must have been trampled in the crowd, his trick probably leaving him for dust.

The blond stared up at Fix with big, sparkling eyes, clutching at Fix’s arms for support, and Cane wanted to trample both of them to the ground.

Where the fuck was Hart? Why wasn’t Fix with him instead?

“Ash!” Cane yelled over the crowd, but the roar of it all drowned his voice out.

The hands on him tightened, dragging him out before he could spot Hart and make sure he was safe.

Chapter 15

Hart

When all of his affirmations and grounding techniques failed, Hart knew he was in deep trouble.

The night couldn’t have gone worse.

What had started as an attempt to free Cane from the curse had actually facilitated the worsening of it. Hart had known there was a risk going in, of course. The plan was dubious at best. But the utterly defeated and pained look in Cane’s eyes had compelled him to offer a solution, his hubris making him think he could keep everything under control.

He knew better.

It was history repeating. Hart falling into the same cycle. As soon as he let Cane pull him under just a little, everything spun out of his grasp. It was why he’d put distance between them in the first place. He couldn’t think around Cane. He made bad choices. Selfish ones.

And now he was here. Sitting in their meeting room with a bloody Ash and a shamefaced Fix, both of whom had only just been let into the room, waiting for the rest of his team to be called in. His leg was bouncing up and down, his fingers twisted in his lap and his breath coming out in short, fast puffs.

The images behind his eyelids wouldn’t settle. It was like half of his brain was looking at the scene in front of him and the other half was just stuck in that warehouse, watching blood drip from Cane’s face and mouth. Watching him slowly come to the realization that the person closest to him had betrayed him and possibly cost him everything.

It made his heart ache.

Hours had passed. Hart wasn’t even sure how many, but dawn had already started to creep over the horizon as Cyrus escorted them back to Cursebreaker HQ after being questioned by the police. They’d been put into separate rooms to wait.

Since the tip hadn’t been about anything curse related, Cyrus hadn’t been among the raiding team. Once the officers on site found out there were cursebreakers present, however, PUMA had immediately been called in.

Cyrus had looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. He’d looked downright livid.

And all Hart could do was worry about Cane.

He didn’t even know where he was or what was being done to him. The last glance he’d got of him was of his arms being cuffed behind his back in a sea of chaos.

He’d tried calling out to him.

The sound had been lost before it reached him.

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