Page 119 of The Eleventh Hour

River’s chin trembles. “And Phil.”

“And Phil,” I agree. And Titan and this whole fucking mess.

“What are we going to do?” River sobs.

Rafael pats his back and looks at me.

“We’re going to make sure Mason gets the best possible chance he can, and we’re going to get her back. Then we’re going to find Louis.”

“He’s dead. Titan killed himself,” River says on a sob.

“Titan isn’t Louis or a copycat,” Rafe says calmly. “Most likely, Titan was being blackmailed.”

I agree silently, but I don’t say anything out loud.

“It's hopeless,” River whispers.

I shake my head and reach for Rivers’ phone. “It's not hopeless. Not at all. We just need to be smarter, work harder right now. We will get her back.”

River nods and presses the phone to his ear.

“Dad!” River starts to sob. “Mason, he saved Jax. He’s shot, in hospital, and the psych took her. I don’t know, Phil was there with a gun, and they were yelling, Mason moved, and the lights went off-”

I snap my head around to look at Rafe. His wide eyes catch and hold mine. Gideon was here.

My hope rises.

She’s going to need us when we get her out. There are people around her who care, who will protect her. We will keep her safe.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see rainbow halos on the street.

“All right, Rafe, this is what we need to do.” I lean in to whisper my plan on how to get our girl back.

Louis

Ilean back on the office chair and smile. The egg-shaped chair opposite me is empty at the moment, the sneaky cameras are disabled and the office is lit by the light of the waiting room, but that matters not. I spin on the chair and let out a sigh that can only be satisfaction. This is only a brief interval before the climax. All the pieces are in their places. The chessboard is set.

I stand up and flick through the pages of scratchy notes, smiling at the tiny bits of truth hidden in so many lies.

My baby is so good at lying.

She’s perfect. And she’s mine. Still mine.

Mine to kill, mine to claim, mine to fuck. She will always be mine.

I had to punish her. She had to know I wasn’t going to allow her to run around freely without some form of recompense. A life for, a well, a fuck.

I turn to the bookshelf and smirk at all the useless waste of time books. I’m too smart for these professionals, too clever. But they do look good on the shelf, I must admit. They will never figure it out. Never see me coming.

I evolved when my baby took my life. I am more.

I walk in the skin of another. I am a god.

And she is my queen.

Her punishment will pull her into line, and then we can resume this game of courting. I look out the window, and then I turn and walk to the black door, pulling it open.

“I think it’s time we give our little bird her life back, but only as far as the leash will stretch.”

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