Page 90 of Brutal Savior

“You’ve pissed off a lot of people, Jacob. Did you know that? A lot.”

“I’m aware. Do you have a point?” She’s grating on me, and I want to hang up on her but force myself not to. Talking is good. I need to remind myself of that even as my blood rushes in my ears. When she’s talking, she’s not pressing the button to blow up the fucking hospital. Quinn’s sister.

It’ll kill Quinn if Marlowe dies just as she’s starting to recover. She’ll never be the same.

“Your little hideout in the woods wasn’t easy to crack, I’ll give you that. I tried bribing the cleaners and the cooks. None of them wanted to know. You’ve got them well trained. But then I had a real stroke of luck.”

Her accent has slipped further, a distinct London twang creeping in. All of a sudden, a face slaps itself into my memory. A girl, with dirty blond hair that hadn’t seen a brush for days, laughing as she dragged me somewhere I didn’t want to go.

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

I shudder. Whatever it was hadn’t been fun, I know that much, but my memory cuts off there.

“I started looking into your private army, the little militia you keep, and can you guess what I found?”

“I’m sure you’re dying to tell me.”

“Your friend Colonel Brackis.”

My body goes rigid. Brackis. I don’t like the man, but surely he wouldn’t betray the Brotherhood? He’d be signing his own death warrant.

“What about him?”

“Just a text message to a friend. Very vague, not breaking any of your rules. Complaining some jumped-up British cocksucker almost cost him his job. How he was on his last warning and it was all your fault.”

What? Kendrick never told me he’d come down hard on Brackis. But then again, why would he? It’s not my concern how he disciplines his employees.

“I got the sense that ‘last warning’ is pretty final in your world, so I approached him for a chat. Turns out Brackis wanted an out. To disappear as if he never existed. I can make that happen, so we cut a deal.”

No.

I can see where this is going, all the dominos tumbling down, one after another.

No.

He was supposed to be safe in the Compound. The one place I could truly protect him. But Brackis could have lured him out and then…

My control cracks, and I slap my hand onto the glass door. The group inside jump at the sound, heads whipping to face me. “What the fuck have you done?”

She laughs, and it’s a fake sound. Sweet, feminine, and cold. “There we go! There’s the reaction I’ve been hoping for. I wantto see the nasty side of you, Jacob. I know it’s there. Ruth, she’s just a normal, boring bitch. But you’re like me. You just hide it better.”

“You’re right. I’m a fucking cunt. Now what have you done?”

That laugh again, and if she was here right now, I’d rip out her throat. If she wants my bad side, she can have it. As much as she wants.

“Our dear old grandad is safe—for now. Knocked out and wearing a new necklace. The exploding kind, as you put it. I’ve got that detonator, too, right next to me.”

Red stains my vision as I picture it. I’ve seen people blown to bits by explosives. It’s revolting in a way that sears itself into your psyche for eternity. And she wants to do it to Grandad? To my fucking grandad?

“I’ll fucking hunt you down. You hear me? I’ll—”

“You’ll choose which button I press.”

The red heat pulsing through my veins slows, and a trickle of ice creeps in. “What?”

It’s surprising how strong my voice sounds. It feels as though it should be quavering.

“You’ll choose. Our lovely little sister, or our precious grandad. Who will you pick? Any sane person would save Ruth, of course. You’d be saving all those other lives too. The doctors, the nurses, the admin team. And Ruth is only thirty-three. So much life left to live.”

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