Page 113 of A Bloom in Winter

“Stop,” he ordered in a voice that cracked. “I don’t want you to see this—”

She fucked him right off and looked over his shoulder at the screen . . . at the picture of Apex tied to a chair, his face so bloody, the only way he could be ID’d was from his clothes.

“Oh, God,” she moaned as she wrenched away.

Mayhem slapped the laptop closed. “I’m going to fucking kill Remis. I’m going to fucking kill him at nightfall.”

“I’m coming with you—”

“The fuck you are—”

“I know the secret way in.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you’re going to want the element of surprise. There were four males in the background, and the last thing you need is for them to kill him because they know you’re in the house.”

Tragically, she was right.

And between one blink and the next, all Mayhem could see were those animal heads, staring down at his old friend.

With their vacant glass eyes.

CHAPTER FORTY–TWO

At some point, pain wore out its receptors.

If you had enough of it, either your brain or your body itself just hit the dimmer switch and things receded. The reprieve was never permanent, but when it happened, you were so damned glad, you didn’t care.

Apex had learned this over the last thirty years. When he’d been mourning Callum.

Unfortunately, his current respite was over: He could tell because it was dawning on him that his neck hurt. Kind of silly, really. His face and his upper torso had taken the brunt of the beatings. Then again, his head had been lolling on his shoulder for how long now?

When he went to open his eyes, he was careful not to move much because he didn’t know whether he was alone. No doubt Remis had tucked himself in downstairs so he could get his beauty sleep for the day—

Whrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

What the hell was that sound—oh. The shutters. It must be nightfall.

Back to the eyeball-opening thing. Fantastic, one was so swollen shut, he couldn’t budge it.

“—tonight. No, tomorrow is better. I’m making sure everything is prepared—yes, I know you want to meet as soon as possible, but we need to clean up loose ends—”

Remis’s voice. Like he was on the phone.

“—and do this the right way. I need one more night. I’m sorry. You don’t want complications? Well, I’m making sure we don’t have any of them. They both did work on the security system so it’s best we cut those risks.” Footsteps. Coming closer. “You always told me, patience wins the battle and the war. So let me do what we agreed needed to be done.” The male stopped right in front of him. “Yes. Of course. No, there won’t be anything left. The sun is the best cleanup we have. Yes. Right. Yes, I will. Goodbye.”

Apex was careful to keep breathing slowly, in and out.

“I know you’re awake.”

A moment later, Apex’s head was repositioned and Remis was right there, eye to eye. “I have to say, you’re impressive. Fortunately, your friend Mayhem called your phone—I’m pretty sure you don’t remember giving me your code. It was the only piece of information you did give up. Anyway. I’m just keeping you alive until he arrives—”

“Leave him . . .” Holy fuck, was that his voice? “. . . alone.”

“Sorry, he picked on me first. Isn’t that the way the young say it? And I’m going to finish it.”

“Leave—”

The slap came from the left and there was good follow-through with it, a spool of blood releasing from Apex’s mouth. And hey, now his head was lying on his other shoulder, so all those tense muscles were stretching out. Bonus.

Meanwhile, he just let himself float off on the pain cloud. In the background, he was vaguely aware of Remis posturing and the four brass-knucklers he’d brought with him standing around, like a rugby team getting coached.

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