Page 36 of Beloved Sacrifice

Once Caden was home from his camp, and Elroy gone on a business trip, Weston left to get the answers, and the help, they so desperately needed. He’d promised to come back, and prayed that because Caden was home, and Caden didn’t know anything about BDSM or what they were doing to Rose, that even when Elroy came back, Rose would be safe.

“I went back to Cal. Then, once I’d made contact, to England to meet with the Hamilton descendant. It took a while, but finally I was put in contact with someone from the Masters’ Admiralty. I told them who I was. Told them I was a Trinity Masters legacy, and that I needed help.”

“I spent a lot of time thinking about that day. The last time I saw you.”

It had been a warm, sunny summer day—not too humid, which was nice. She’d clung to him with desperation when he’d hugged her goodbye. To this day, if he closed his eyes he could feel her sun-warmed hair under his cheek, and see her in his mind’s eye—slender and lovely, wearing jeans and a tank top, her long dark hair loose around her shoulders. Caden had frowned at them, his dark brows drawn together. Weston had whispered to her that he’d be back, he’d keep her safe. That no one would ever hurt her again.

And when he’d finally broken the hug, her face had been wet with tears. He’d told Caden to take care of her, throwing out some vague statement about how she was having a hard time.

Caden had wrapped one arm around her, trying to draw her into the house, but Rose had insisted on staying, watching his car drive away.

He knew because he’d watched her in the rearview mirror.

Weston straightened away from the wall. Two steps and he was beside her. “I failed you, Brown Eyes.”

She held up one hand. “Don’t. Please.”

“Don’t call you Brown Eyes?”

“Don’t…make me feel. I’ve already cried more today than I have in years. It’s taken me a long time to learn how to be numb. Caden’s death…” She was trembling, the same way she had when she was seventeen. “I’m raw right now. I can’t handle being reminded of that summer.”

“Because I left you?” Weston clamped down on his feelings, keeping his tone emotionless.

She whirled on him, her hand raised as if to slap him. He caught her wrist on reflex, jerking her hand down. “Stop it, Rose.”

He deserved the slap, and so much more, but there wasn’t time. This was the eye of the storm, a temporary respite. Caden’s death, and her actions following it, meant that he was racing against a clock. He’d hoped to pick the time and place to take down his parents, but he’d lost that option.

Her gaze flicked to his fingers, and her trembling ceased, replaced by a tense stillness.

“I’m going to Dorset tomorrow. I’ll get proof about the Esperanza. Then we can confront them.”

She didn’t respond.

“My parents, the other purists, the Grand Master—all of them.”

“All of them,” she repeated quietly.

“The Esperanza is the key.” After all these years, he was more than ready play the trump card he held, to strip Elroy and Barton of their power. “Once we have proof of what they’ve been keeping secret, we’ll approach the purists from a position of power. Once we know their secret we’ll hold it over them, like the sword of Damocles. If they try and call my bluff I can prove that the Masters’ Admiralty will listen to me. We’ll be the players, Rose. Not the pieces. It’s checkmate—they’ll have nowhere to go, because if they do anything, we’ll tell the Masters’ Admiralty, who will come for revenge. The purists would lose that battle.”

He grinned at Rose, who was looking at the floor.

“Checkmate. Game over.”

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