Page 40 of Corrupted Tyrant

My heart pounds like a jackhammer and my stomach coils in a tight wad of terror.

Courage snarls, a sound of pure, unadulterated rage. Fury unleashes what seems like a bottomless pit of obscenities.

But beneath the rage, a steely resolve takes root. This is it. Our chance to end this, once and for all.

“We’re going to need gear,” Courage says, his mind racing. “Cameras, mics, trackers. Fury, can you handle that?”

A lopsided predatory grin emerges on Fury’s face. “Between Stealth and me, I’ve got it covered. You think this duffel is filled with clothes?” His brow wings up and now that we’re face to face, I realize Courage wasn’t kidding when he called Fury a silver fox. That male could be on the cover of magazines—provided he wore a hat and kept his lips sealed over those lethal fangs.

I square my shoulders, tipping my chin in defiance. “What’s my role in all this?”

Courage takes my face in his hands, his gaze fierce and unwavering. “You, my brave, stubborn female, are going to march into that park and show those bastards they messed with the wrong fucking woman—that is, if you’re up to it. It’s asking a lot.”

My lips quirk, a flicker of my usual fire sparking to life. “Damn right, I am. With you two keeping me safe.”

“We’re not going to hang you out to dry.” His tone is serious, deadly. “Fury and I will be right there with you every step of the way. They just won’t know it until it’s too late.”

A shaky breath escapes me, the knot in my chest loosening just a fraction. “Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s do this.”

“You’re so brave, Candy. It’s time to face the monsters head-on and send them screaming back to the hell they crawled out of. Never doubt, we’ll have your back.”

It all sounds great when Courage says it, but I can’t help but think that things could go horribly wrong. That’s too terrifying to imagine.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Candy

Maury’s face fills the laptop screen, his brow furrowed with concern as we catch him up on the latest developments. “Candy, bubelah. You’re scaring the shit out of me here.”

I manage a weak smile, my throat tight with emotion. “I’m scaring the shit out of me too, Maur.”

Beside me on the couch in our hotel room, Courage squeezes my hand, a silent show of support. Fury paces the hotel room like a caged lion—or wolf—his claws flexing with barely leashed aggression.

“Run it by me one more time.” Maury rubs his hand over his weathered face. “You’re actually considering meeting with these schmucks? Alone?”

“Not alone,” Courage corrects, his voice a low rumble. “Never alone. Fury and I will be with her every step of the way.”

We lay out the plan: the hidden cameras, the mics, the trackers. The contingencies we’ve put in place, the evidence we hope to gather. The role I’ll play—the bait to lure the serpents from their hole.

By the time we’re done, Maury’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “I don’t like it.” His tone is blunt. “Not one fucking bit. But…”

He sighs, long and heavy. “But I trust you, Candy. I trust your judgment, your strength. If you say this is something you need to do, then I’m in your corner. It would be great if you could put all of this in your rearview mirror.”

Tears prick at the back of my eyes, gratitude and love welling in my chest. “Thanks, Maury. That means… everything.”

“Just promise me one thing?” His voice is gruff, thick with emotion. “You come back to me. In one piece. Because if anything happens to you, honey, it’ll kill me. You understand?”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak around the lump in my throat.

The call ends with a round of tense goodbyes and fervent promises to check in after the deed is done. As the screen goes dark, I slump against the couch, sudden exhaustion weighing on my bones.

“You should try to get some rest,” Courage murmurs, brushing a lock of hair from my forehead. “Big night ahead.”

“I don’t feel very brave,” I confess, my voice small. “I feel… terrified. Sick to my stomach. Like I’m five seconds away from shattering into a million pieces.”

Fury crouches in front of me, his frigid silver eyes boring into mine. “That’s what bravery is, kitten. It’s not the absence of fear. It’s the choice to keep going, to keep fighting, even when you’re piss-your-pants scared.”

Courage nods, his arm slipping around my shoulders. “And that’s exactly what you’re doing. What you’ve been doing this whole damn time. Fighting. Surviving. Refusing to let the bastards win.”

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