Page 36 of Cold Hard Truth

Until there’s nothing left but the click of the trigger, and Nick’s body slamming to his knees as he crumples to the floor.

I don’t know if Nick is working alone or with another club, and right now I don’t care. All I need is the rush I feel when his life leaves his eyes. When his heart ceases to beat.

I wish a soul was a tangible thing so I could grab onto his and decide what happens to it. So I could make sure he suffers for what he’s done.

I’m sure I should feel guilty for the first blood I’ve spilled. The first life I’ve taken. I’m sure I should question the fact that I don’t. But there’s no time with the scream ripping my chest apart, and I know it’s her.

I hurry over to her, and she’s rocking again. Crying again—not that she ever really stopped.

Up close I get a better look at her matted black hair, the cuts, and the bruises. There’s so much blood it’s impossible to tell if it’s hers or her sister’s. All I know is she’s my heart beating outside my chest and she’s in pieces.

“Lyla, look at me.” I plant my hand on her shoulder, and she freezes.

She’s shaking so hard; I wonder how I’m not hearing her bones chatter.

Lifting her face to meet my gaze, her cheeks are soaked with tears and her lip is cut open. But all I see are those violet eyes that are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.

“Sage?”

My name has never hurt so much to hear. Maybe she didn’t even say it and I’m imagining things. She’s so quiet, and the gunshots upstairs have my mind spinning. That and the suicide mission I’m just now putting together.

His daughters. Kane’s fucking daughters. How could he keep the truth behind this mission from me? He might not know what happened between me and Lyla, but he knows we’re close.

He knows I haven’t been the same since she left the compound a few weeks ago.

Holding her tear-streaked face in my hands, I now want to turn my gun on myself. I let this happen to her. I didn’t chase her that night she walked away. I assumed she needed space, and I wanted to give her time to think.

I figured we’d work through it eventually. After all, she’s always spouting on about destiny and fate. It was bound to come full circle, it just hadn’t yet.

But she never came back. She disappeared into Los Angeles, and I traveled to the bottom of every bottle of whiskey I could get my hands on.

“I need to get you out of here.” I brush her arms, and they’re thinner than they were a few weeks ago. I don’t know how long she’s been in this basement, but I can’t let myself process that right now, or I won’t be able to see straight.

Lyla’s lashes brim with tears and her eyes dart to her sister. “She’s… Sage, Ellie is…”

Dead.

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but we both know what’s happened.

Once more, Lyla buries her face in her thighs and starts crying.

She’s rocking, and that familiar sound of metal scraping concrete fills the silence.

Nick chained them like animals.

My vision darkens as I stand up and walk over to the table. There aren’t keys, but at least there’s a pair of bolt cutters that should do the trick.

“It’s going to be okay.” I cross the room, knowing I’m lying as I step over Ellie’s body to once more kneel down in front of Lyla.

I cut the chain and free her ankle, thankful that’s all that’s keeping her tied in place as I toss the bolt cutters to the side.

“Lyla, stay with me.” I brush my hand over the back of her head. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

Her hair is sweaty and damp. Her body shakes and her teeth chatter.

I want to ask her what she needs—how long she’s been here. But she probably doesn’t know either.

All I can do is get her out of this hellhole.

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