Page 15 of The Devils' Darling

With every second that passes, I torment myself with the thought of my father and Mackenzie. I have no doubt in my mind that he would take her against her will. The picture in my head of him holding her down and forcing her makes me want to pull the truck over and vomit onto the side of the road. How would she ever recover from that—physically and mentally? Our little doll would be broken, and now I realize just what stupid games we’ve been playing. We never truly meant to break her, not like that. Even Dom would never have wanted to see her hurt in such a way.

I wonder if the others have noticed I’m missing yet. What will they think? I’m fairly sure they’ll piece things together quickly enough. They will know I’ve gone after our Duchess, and since I’m the one who’s gone, I’m sure they will put two and two together and realize my father is the one behind all of this.

The road grows even narrower, and I bump and jolt inside the tin can of a truck, my knuckles white around the steering wheel. The gun presses against my lower back, where I’ve wedged it into my waistband, and I try to plan what my actions will be when I arrive. A part of me—the biggest part—wants to go in shooting. I want to kill every single motherfucker who has so much as looked at Mackenzie. But I hold myself back. If I start shooting, my father will hear the gunshots and decide to put a bullet in Mackenzie’s head before I reach her.

It feels as though no matter what choice I make, I will lose.

And so will she.

I check my location and realize I’m close. I stop the truck, and, knowing it is for the best, I look around behind me. There are a few crates, and some have food in them—a perfect place for me to hide the gun. I clamber over the seat and stuff it down into a crate of oranges. Then I get back into the driver’s seat and face forward, my hands on the wheel for a long moment as I brace myself for what is coming. My heart beats faster, and I force myself to slow my breathing. I can’t go in there raging, as much as I want to. I need to be like him—cool, controlled, unemotional.

It’s the only language he understands.

I get moving again, and finally, the dirt road opens. A clearing in the trees reveals a large, double story log cabin. I kill the engine, though I’m sure my approach will have been heard already. I sit behind the wheel for a moment, watching for movement, but there is none. That doesn’t mean they aren’t perfectly aware of my presence, however. I remember my father’s threat of cameras and drones to make sure I came alone, but there’s nothing obvious. Maybe he was bluffing.

I draw a shaky breath and open the driver’s door. I climb out and look around the area, but there’s no one around.

With no other choice, I approach the front door and bang on it with my fist.

It opens, and a man I don’t recognize stands in the doorway. He must be one of my father’s new additions.

“Arms out,” he says.

He’s going to search me, and I’m grateful I didn’t try to get away with the gun.

He searches me thoroughly and steps back with a smirk. “Good boy.”

My teeth clench, and for just a moment I wish I’d come in guns blazing.

Movement comes from behind him, and my gaze travels past this man’s shoulder to land on Igor. That son of a bitch.

“It is okay, Rufus,” Igor says. “I can take it from here.”

Rufus and Igor switch places, and Rufus retreats deeper into the cabin and out of sight. I set my attention on Igor. This fucking bastard is the man I loathe more than anyone else, other than my father. I stare at him, hatred pumping through my veins with more ferocity than venom.

“Are you going to let me in,” I spit, “or should I just wait here while you figure out a way to get your tongue even farther up my father’s ass?”

Igor ignores my comment.

“You came,” he says as if surprised. “Thought you’d be too scared, but then again, she is a prize piece of ass, and if your father shoved his frankly freakishly massive cock in her, he’d ruin her for a young man like yourself. He’d stretch her wide open, and you’d never satisfy her again, so I can see why you rushed.”

There’s a rock to the side of the door and it’s out of Igor’s eyeline. His leering grin makes me seethe and, without thinking, without letting my mind run through the consequences and acting purely on an autopilot of sheer hatred, I bend down and pick it up. Igor looks confused as I straighten. I smile at him and then swing my arm and smash the rock into his face.

He staggers back with a yell and clutches his face. Then he falls to the side, rolling to his left and groaning.

“You’ve had that coming for a long time.” I spit on him in disgust. Fucking bastard. “I do wonder, too, how come you’re so well acquainted with Daddy Dearest’s cock. Does he shove it down your throat on the regular?”

The sound of a gun cocking to my side is no surprise. But I don’t care. I wanted to show Igor how much I hated him, and I have. I didn’t break Father’s rules and shoot anyone, and I doubt he’ll murder Mackenzie over me smashing up Igor’s face.

I’m also fully convinced now that my father uses Igor for more than just security. I shudder, not wanting to imagine my father that way with anyone, never mind the man I hate so much.

It hits me then that I could end my father’s life without raising a fist to him. If he really is doing something with Igor, and something about the way Igor looks at him and that last comment has clicked into place for me, then that would be enough for them to be killed in the patriarchal world they are from.

Could I get Tino to do some of his magic and find out if he can spy on my father? If I can make him think Mackenzie and I are going to do his bidding and buy us time, can I work with the other two to bring him down?

Now, though, I must appease that bastard by whatever means are necessary to get me and our Duchess out of here alive.

“Take me to my father,” I say to Rufus.

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