Page 67 of Tempted to Rebel

“Pull over. Let Ruin drive.”

“We don’t even know where to go!” She isn’t wrong—we’ve been driving aimlessly through the streets, having jumped before we checked where to land. At least Celia is coherent enough to pull over and switch seats for to Ruin take the wheel. As she buckles up and Ruin adjusts the mirrors for his height, I think back to what I know about my father.

Aside from being an emotionless sack of shit, he’s smart. It’s how he avoided capture after he set the fire that killed our mother and thepakhantried to panel him for it. Thanatos has been tracking him outside the city for years, traveling the country to stay on his trail.

I pad my pockets, but I don’t have my phone on me. “Call Than.” When Celia continues tapping her fingers on the dash, I realize she hasn’t heard me. “Celia, call Thanatos!”

“I don’t have his number!”

“Bullshit.” The man is almost as anal as Rage. He’ll have saved his number in her cell. I take the phone from Celia and flick through her contacts, surprised to see that he’s saved himself under the nameThanatos (Riot). Since when did he take on an R-name like the rest of us?

Dialing his number, I read the street names as we pass by. “Where are we going?”

“To the store,” Ruin replies, turning onto a street without using his blinker. “There will be camera footage.”

Celia sits up straighter. “It’s her shift right now. She should be there.”

Thanatos picks up on the third ring, sounding as confused as I feel about how he answers. “Princess?”

“What did you just call me?”

His tone shifts in annoyance. “Rebel? What are you doing with Celia’s phone?”

“What areyoudoing, calling her Princess?”

“Rebel!” Celia snaps, turning around to glare at me. “Not now! Send him the fucking voicemail!”

With a sigh of frustration, I follow orders and send everyone a group message with not only our father’s creepy-as-fuck voicemail, but the subsequent text and picture. The image is potato-quality, so it’s hard to see the woman’s face, but she’s definitely tied up and there’s definitely a fire blazing behind her back.

Thanatos curses in heavy Russian. “Don’t move. Stay at the house. We’re coming.”

I snort. “Fuck that, we’re already on the road.”

Rage’s voice booms in the background like canon fire. “You’rewhat?” Their phone changes hands, and Rage is suddenly yelling into my ear. “Get her back to the fucking apartment.Lock her in the goddamn cage and don’t let her out of your sight.”

My pulse pounds in my ears as I put my brother on speaker. “No fucking way, we’re not going home. We’re going to find the bastard and kill him.” My brothers have taken ages to catch him andstillhaven’t found him, so it’s obvious that they need more men on the job.

“We’re saving Sara!” Celia shouts, grabbing the phone from my hand. “We can kill him after she’s safe”

Fuck, she’s hot when she’s pissed. I’d nearly forgotten how drop-dead-gorgeous that fire inside her heart is.

“I won’t let him get near you,” Rage hisses. A car door slams, and I hear their car engine turn over across the line. “Go home, Celia. You’ll be safe there until we figure out where he’s keeping Sara.”

“Listen to the voicemail! She’s screaming, Rage! He’s torturing her!” Celia’s voice pitches with her anger. “Don’t you dare tell me to go home when it’s my fault she’s been dragged into this.”

Thanatos speaks next, the only calm one aside from Ruin. “Take a deep breath, Celia. Where would Sara be right now?” He walks her through a few questions to try and pinpoint Sara’s location, and it helps calm Celia’s emotions. She’s razor-sharp by the third question, recalling details about Sara’s life that I never realized she would know. Thanatos doesn’t seem surprised by this—or by the information itself—as he walks us all through multiple possible scenarios.

The voicemail could be a recording of someone else screaming.

Our dad could have pickpocketed Sara’s phone.

Sara could be on a date with her boyfriend, none the wiser to any of this.

The list goes on, each possibility seeming more far-fetched than the last. Finally, we pull up to Celia’s boutique and jumpout of the car. The lights are on inside, but we can’t see anyone unless you count the mannequins in the windows.

Ruin grabs Celia from around the waist before she can run inside the building and pulls out a Glock from a holster strapped to his hip, then pushes her back toward the car. I trade places with him as he steps into the building, carefully wrapping my arms around Celia’s torso to keep her from doing something reckless.

Like walking into an ambush.

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