Page 51 of A Twisted Gift

“All right,” I whisper.

“If anyone but me comes for you, use that.” He nods to the knife in my hand.

“I will.”

When he turns to go, I grab onto his arm.

“Be careful, Erik.”

He kisses me reassuringly. “I’ll make it back to you, little rose. Don’t you worry.”

With that, he steps out of the woods and up to the wall surrounding the mansion. He climbs it with ease. I know this is how he got in to see me all those nights, but it still surprises me. I didn’t think it was possible to climb it.

Erik disappears over the top, and my heart squeezes. This is the farthest we’ve been from each other since he took me last night. I wanted to go with him, but he insisted on taking out the guards by himself. Since they have guns, he’s worried about me getting shot.

As if he’s invincible.

I wring my hands together as I strain to hear any indication that something has gone wrong. There’s a muffled shout—one that thankfully doesn’t sound like it came from Erik—and then the sound of snow crunching.

Please, please, please.

Over the years, I’ve heard Father brag about how well-trained his men are. Erik has the element of surprise, and I told him everything I know about the guards, but what if that’s not enough?

Waiting is agony, my only company the creaking trees and the brisk wind. I find myself pacing as darkness fully settles over the forest. Only when a second pair of footsteps crunching against the hardening dirt matches mine do I stop.

There, at the entrance to the woods, is Erik. Moonlight glints off his knives, but they’re mostly dark.Covered in blood,I realize as he gets closer.

“You killed them?” I whisper when he gets closer.

“The two at the front gate and the two who walk the perimeter.” With a grin, he holds up a set of keys. “Found these, too. Bet one of them opens up the front door.”

Thank goodness.There’s no way I’d be able to climb the wall the way he did.

Erik cleans his knives in the snow before wiping them off with a black bandana. Once they’re dry, he places them back in the sheathes at his hips.

“Where did you get all this from?” I ask.

“A group of men who work for me from time to time.”

“What do they do for you?”

He arches a brow. “What do you think?”

Biting my lip, I stare at the knife in my hand. It’s heavy, solid—not something like one of the props Marissa brought home from the plays she used to perform in. This is meant to harm. To kill.

“They’re murderers?”

Erik nods. “The better term would be hitmen. Killers for hire.”

Killers for hire.I had no idea a position like that even existed.

“You pay men to kill people for you?”

“The ones who make a habit of threatening the people I love, yes.”

I nod slowly. Can I fault him for that when I’m about to do the same?

“We need to go, Raina.” He clasps my hand, his grip firm. “I don’t know how long it’ll be before anyone in the house notices that the guards aren’t responsive.”

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