Page 273 of Heart of Frost and Scars

“Love what you’ve done with the place.” Leo’s lips curl into an arctic smile, a predator’s grin. “Nice touch with the Mad Tea Party. Or is this The Last Supper? Do you fuck the guests before you eat them? Asking for a friend.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Rhett gestures at the empty chairs. “After all, I saved a seat just for you.”

“Oh, joy. I’m famished.” Leo isn’t just ready for this. He’s fucking craving it.

Bloodlust inhabits every cell of his body, as much a part of him as his scars and his pain.

Nothing will stop us. Not the gun in Rhett’s hand. Not the ghosts that haunt us.

Our demons are meaner, scarier, and they’re fucking angry.

“They stink.” Monty scowls at Denver’s corpse.

“Impossible. I embalmed them.” Rhett stands, his expression cold and detached, as he holds the gun to the top of Frankie’s head. “There are bombs on both of those planes out there. I just activated them. Unless you know how to disarm a booby-trapped ignition bomb, it will detonate if you start either of those engines.” He gestures at his fancy satellite phone. “Password protected.”

Controlling those planes is his safety net, one we know too well. If we kill him, we’re not leaving Hoss.

Or so he thinks.

“What is that?” His glare narrows on Monty’s feet.

We’re naked, vulnerable, and exposed—precisely how he wants us. Except for the slippers Monty donned on his way out of the house.

“I watched you demolish your home when you received the photo I sent.” Rhett chews on his cheek, the gun unwavering on Frankie. “Those slippers came out of the box of mementos you hurled across the room. They mean something.”

“A year ago today, Denver raped my son and my wife.” Monty stands taller, an imposing pillar of confidence despite his nudity. “He raped them while wearing these slippers. The same slippers he stole from me the night he stole Frankie. If I die today, I thought it only fitting that I die wearing them.”

Dramatic.

And effective.

“Sit at the table.” Rhett directs his eyes at the empty seats. “Use the rope and tie yourselves to the chairs.”

I’m already moving, a beast in human form, muscles tensed and focused. The time for bloodshedding is almost here.

I take a seat beside Wolf, and Leo sits on his other side, closest to Rhett. Monty lowers into the chair on my left near Frankie’s feet.

We all stare at Frankie’s motionless figure as we wrap the nylon restraints around our chests. Nothing within view indicates he intends to shackle our hands and feet.

A single rope around our torsos won’t stop us from attacking him.

But the gun will.

Rhett holds all the cards right now, but that will change soon. We’ll make sure he pays for every hair he harmed on Frankie’s head.

We can’t act yet. Not until she’s safe, not until we can take him down without risking her life.

“Why isn’t she moving?” Monty knots the rope around him. “What are you giving her?”

“The drug affects skeletal muscles. She can’t move her mouth, but she’s fully awake. It’s safe. I’m a surgeon, after all.”

“I know what and who you are, Renat Moroz.” Monty cocks his head. “The hush money your family received from my father paid for your medical school and then some. You would’ve had millions left over. Is that how you funded this sick quest?”

We didn’t have time to confirm that detail, but given Rhett’s wide eyes, Monty’s assumption is correct.

“At age twelve, you were assaulted by a pedophile.” Monty directs his eyes at Denver’s corpse. “My father moved you and your family to a location Denver couldn’t find, changed your names, and paid you enough money to keep you quiet. You never forgave your parents for accepting that payoff. So you killed them years later. How am I doing so far?”

That part about his parents’ murders is another assumption.

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