Page 238 of On a Fault Line

“Yes.”

“He had his minion,” I add and then correct myself, “hisbrotherintercept the transport van before I could get there, kill the driver, and put some guy in the back who was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“His other brother followed me from the charity event so they all knew I was heading to Seattle.”

“Exactly,” I confirm.

“He had one at the waterfront for the photoshoot. I had that nightmare, and I remember seeing the Rose City Cafe shirt on Mark. It’s because his twin brothers were living above the cafe and working there.”

“Fuck. I knew I hated that place but couldn’t ever find anything out of the norm when I would have my men check it out.

“And Mark’s nephew…” A sob breaks out. “Rex... He led me to Limit-X. It was all part of his plan to pull us apart. And it worked.”

“Shh…” I try to soothe Penny, but she is an emotional ball of energy right now.

She grabs her head, giving it a shake. “You’re sure everyone is dead.”

“Yes.” I want to resurrect them all just to kill them again, I am that mad. “Your brothers confirmed they got the twins. And Rex is definitely dead. I took care of him before I got to you.”

“He planted pictures in Luke’s room at our apartment. I found them and I thought my brothers hired him to spy on me. I thought Luke was the one who caused us to break up.” She can’t stop crying. “I yelled at him.”

“None of this is your fault, Princess. None of it. It’s over now. Mark, his demonic brothers, Rex...they are all rotting in hell. No one will ever hurt you again.”

Several more police officers enter the scene. I shake my head at a group of them, annoyed that it has taken this long to even make it to this wing of the facility.

“This is a bloodbath,” one says, glancing around. He looks barely out of high school. “It’s a real horror movie.”

He’s so in awe of the scene, I’m shocked he doesn’t pose with Tanner’s body for his social media page.

“I’m getting her out of here,” I say to him.

“Oh, we need to record your names.”

I tip my chin to Penny. “She needs to be seen by a medical professional.”

“We have questions to ask,” a different officer says. He looks like he is dressed for a routine call for domestic abuse or something.

Did the state send their rookies here to add to their resumés?

Unbelievable.

“Well, you can ask them at another time or trust that I took care of the job you all were called in hours ago to serve.”

I continue walking, not even sticking around to be granted permission.

I shift Penny in my arms, trying to calm down her shakes. She’s in shock. Her chin looks to be bruising around the dried blood that is clumped together in patches.

“Where are my brothers?” she asks, stuttering out the syllables.

Every time she talks, more of the cut on her lip opens.

“They are probably outside.”

And as if on cue, as soon as we get into the misty night air, both Hoffmans come charging toward us in a full-on run. They look like they didn’t have it easy either. Cuts and scrapes blemish their arms. The fabric of their outfits are frayed. And the worry lines on their foreheads more pronounced.

“Oh my, Penny,” Graham says, when he’s just a few feet away. “I’m so sorry.”

I set her down on her feet, allowing her brothers to hug her.

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