Page 20 of Fearless

With that, he turns, and I hear his footsteps retreating up the stairs.

He knows I’ll do it. I always do.

Right from wrong? Good or bad? They matter little to me. That’s the way it’s always been. That’s how I sleep at night, and fuck, I need some sleep.

With the girl still secure in my arms, I take her over to the bed and lay her down. He’s already attached thick leather straps to the bars of the headboard, twisted bastard. I remove the blanket so I can tuck her in once she’s strapped down, and brush all the stray strands of hair away from her face.

Then I realize I can’t just leave her here like this. There’s a lot of shit in her system and if she’s sick, no one would hear her. Frankly I can’t think of a worse way to die than choking on your own vomit.

I’ll strap her down before she wakes up.

I place the comforter over her body and lie down on the carpeted floor beside her bed. If she moves, I’ll either hear her, or she’ll step on me. Either way, I’ll wake up.

I could kill Cole.

It’s always him. He’s never satisfied with what we have, or what we plan to have. Always wants more. More money, more danger, more excitement, more power. It’s not the first time in my life I’ve contemplated how the hell I’ve got myself into such a mess, and right now, I don’t see any clean way out of it.

Maybe there was never a clean way out of it.

Ford, she knew what she was doing. She knew there would be consequences. She has the entire underbelly of this country on a fucking ceasefire while she becomes public-enemy-number-one. And I mean every person who’s ever sold so much as a twenty quid bag of weed. Every one of us wants to see her destroyed.

For as much as we call her a stupid bitch, that’s just because we hate her. She’s not stupid. She’s calculating and sly and more cunning than Cole.

She knew this would be messy.

But did she know it would be her own daughter paying the price?

CHAPTER SIX

MEISIE

Agunshot wakes me up. I don’t realize what I heard straight away, but when another quickly follows it, I’m wrenched from la-la land to real life in an instant with my heart in my throat.

I’m in a red room, which is all the sensory input I get before another gunshot sounds out.

I let out a soft laugh. Not a gunshot. At least, not in real life. Somewhere within earshot, someone’s watching a movie on full blast.

Well, now that that’s sorted out…where the fuck am I?

Silky sheets caress my skin as I move into a sit. The lighting is so dim in here that it’s difficult to make out more than a few indistinct shapes.

I’m on a bed. From the feel of the sheets, this isn’t some polyester blend.

But something’s wrong. Over and above me not recognizing my surroundings. I run a hand through my hair as I try to piece together the last thing I remember.

And that’s the strange thing.

I can’t.

Red room. Red room—Purple room?

Asylum. The club.ThatI remember. Dancing. Awful crowd. A tall man at the bar, dark hair. Exactly the kind of guy I was looking for.

I pull in my legs, hugging them hard to my chest. Shit. Shit, shit, shit!

There’s a muted explosion from the hidden TV set. I scan the room again, and now that my eyes have adjusted, more of it is visible.

No windows—but they could be hidden behind the thick drapes lining almost every inch of the walls. A bit of bare brick peeks through here and there. A wooden door. There’s a hum coming from somewhere. Air-conditioning?

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