Page 202 of Auctioned

“Temporary cameras. I put them up when you fell asleep. When I went downstairs to leave the front door unlocked.”

“Okay. Go.” My hands are all over him. His lean biceps, his taut chest beneath his black shirt. His neck. Hair. “Come back to me.”

“Sonnet.” His eyes pierce mine. “Always.”

He means it. He really does.

It doesn’t comfort me. I’ve already lost the two people I loved the most. They left me one day and never returned.

Death stole my parents away.

I’ll be damned if I let it put its filthy hands on the love of my life.

40

JAMES

Afew seconds are all I have before Topher and Camden reach the stairwell.

They’ve been wandering through the main floor for long minutes. I get why. During the years that Topher lived here, I hadn’t slept in my room much. There’d always been work to do. Heaps of it.

Oliver had twice as many paralegals and associates working on his cases. Preferred spending his waking hours mingling and bringing in clients. He’d join me when I went to threaten people. But office work never appealed to him.

I preferred the more hands-on approach. And since I never wanted to wake Topher up, I spent my nights on the main floor, out of earshot.

Now, there isn’t a night I don’t spend next to Ophelia in bed.

The woman I’ll burn down cities for.

“He’s not here,” Topher whispers.

His voice comes to my left. They’re in the media room, where he used to watch television while I worked over the weekends.

The memory stings. Not as much as the thought of Ophelia raped and lying in a pool of her own blood.

“Probably in bed, fucking his whore.” Camden snorts, sounding drunk.

My fingers press into the handle of my gun. Fire scorches my skin. My veins.

His whore.

Talking about her like he has the right.

Focus.

I step away from the stairwell, walking deeper into the main floor.

“Let’s go.” My son, on the other hand, sounds sober.

He should’ve noticed that I hadn’t locked the doors or gate. He should’ve been suspicious.

He isn’t.

What a disappointment.

“You’re not going anywhere.” I hold up the gun when they come out of the room. Both of them are in black hoodies and jeans like common thieves. Pathetic.

Topher doesn’t hesitate, pointing his gun at me. “You’re the one who isn’t going anywhere.”

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