Page 10 of Seduce & Destroy

“But what if…”

“No one knows we are here. Anonymity is the safest place of them all. Trust me, the conflict will be fought far away from you and then, you can return to your merry London life.”

I withheld a huff as I let our conversation descend into a reflective silence. We both looked ahead at the expansive forest that lined the property. The treeline was high to conceal our whereabouts and the scale of our operations here. On the rooftops, snipers were poised to anticipate the worst, and so were the multiple heavily armed bodyguards Father had recruited to follow his every move. Breakfast was their fifteen-minute break, I guess.

The Union may have perished in the fissure, crippling our operations with the absence of lucrative revenue from Karstein drugs and arms, but the Ravencroft Estate remained powerful. Our money was stamped and disturbed amongst the seediest of London pubs, clubs and casinos. To protect our assets and hide our identity during our relocation to this Hertfordshire village, the Great Tenor levy had been imposed, the tax promised protection from any threats our presence may incur.

God forbid the violence found us here.

My eyes trained on Kenna. Her chest heaved as she came up to the front steps of the estate, an entrance she was not supposed to use, and evaded my sightline. The next thing we could hear was a banging on the door. Sir Waite was stationed at the front of the house, a bold move for the new girl—until I listened to her pleading.

“A body…blood everywhere…” She managed to say between huffs, “God, there was so much blood. Oh my god…” It’s difficult to piece together her exact words, but I sat up to hear better anyway.

My father was already out of his chair, leaning too far over the balcony.

Kenna kept rattling off details to the stern man. In between the loud thumps of my escalated heartbeat, I caught snippets of her words, “...laid between leaves…first, fruit juice…then…hole…” She stabbed her finger to her chest, demonstrating. “And her hair…”

“Her?” Forrester interrupted.

“...it was red.”

My heart stalled and skipped a beat.

?

“Laney!”

It was like the last week hadn’t happened and I was stuck in a loop. Once again Neenan chased after me as I ran from him in tears. But this time I ran toward the barrack’s med bay instead of hiding myself.

“I want to see her!” I screamed, throat hoarse. By the fourth corridor that led to rooms I didn’t recognise, I grew frustrated as Neenan strayed uselessly behind me. “Take me to her, please, please.”

Stopping abruptly, I swung round clawing at his chest. “Let me see her. I want to see her.”

He opened his mouth, but it wasn’t his voice that spoke the next words.

“That’s not a good idea.” Grant’s ashen face rounded a corner.

I must be close.

Tears welled. “She was my family first!”

Neenan stood before me avoiding my eyes, while Grant shifted his weight from foot to foot as he watched me with caution. “Please,” I whispered.

With a tight smile, Grant stepped forward. “I can’t let you see her.” He said as he lifted a hand to halt my impending words. “Her injuries are…just… remember Tilly as the bright girl that she was, and not…”

At his proximity, I could see the goosebumps rise on his brown skin. Whatever he saw it was chilling. I grimaced. Sometimes saying less created the darker image in my mind. Remember my friend, he was saying, and …not her buckled body.

I wanted to run to her, if only to get mental picture out of my head. Grant’s sudden appearance meant that she was near. I could find her, I knew it, but both men packed enough muscle between them to restrain me with ease.

I exhaled heavily. “Who did this?”

“The culprit is unknown, but I assure you we will find him.”

“Like you found my grandfather’s killer?” I replied. My hope had been dwindling by the day. It was a known fact that crimes not solved within the first forty-eight hours were most likely to go cold.

That wouldn’t be our legacy. It couldn’t be.

I shook my head and nodded and then, glanced up at Neenan, his saddened expression mirroring a more muted version of mine. “Why,” I stumbled. “Why her?” Tears began to burn their path down my cheeks. “Not her. Never her.”

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