Page 75 of Always A Villain
She’s at the island, her face pale, hands clenched tight.
“Rory.”
Her gaze snaps to mine.
“You’re safe.” As I pull her close, she clings to me.
“I was so scared, Axe,” she whispers. “I thought…I thought they were going to kill me.”
I lift her chin, meeting her tear-streaked face, anger sharpening my every word. “I’ll kill anyone who so much as looks at you wrong.”
I press my mouth to hers, tasting the salt of her fear.
“Weapons packed; let’s move.” Griffen’s voice breaks through, clipped and on edge. He strides in, tossing me the keys.
Time to get the hell out here.
I grab Rory’s hand, pulling her through the wreckage. Glass crunches under our feet, the scent of blood and gunpowder thick in the air. At the Range Rover, I yank the door open, helping her inside before slamming it shut. Then I climb in, punch the gas, and tear out of there, gravel flying as we disappear into the woods.
By the time we pull into the garage, my hands are still tight on the wheel, rage burning under my skin like a slow, barely controlled fire. Kane lets out a low whine in the backseat, his ears pinned, eyes darting. The guest house looms ahead—a six-bedroom fortress, built to withstand a fucking siege. Griff’s already moving, securing every point, setting the alarms.
I guide Rory inside and to the bedroom. She looks hollow, drained—the nightmare still tormenting at her. She needs rest.
I inhale deeply, forcing my voice into something close to calm. “Baby.” I brush a damp strand of hair from her face. “Take a shower. Try to get some sleep.”
She nods, whispering, “Okay.” Then she disappears into the bathroom.
The second I hear the water running, I’m out the door.
Griff’s at the kitchen island, two glasses and a bottle of vodka already waiting. He glances up, eyes piercing. “Place is locked down. No one’s getting in without tripping ten different alarms.”
I grab the bottle, pouring myself a stiff one. The burn does nothing. “They won’t get a second chance to try.”
“How bad?” He watches me closely as I throw back another shot.
“Fucking bad.” I slam the glass down. “They had inside intel, Griff. They kneweverything—layout, security, alarm placement. Down to the last goddamn wire. Except for the fucking fence, if they hadn’t set that off…” I trail off as I fire off a text to Kane’s vet, telling them to send someone ASAP.
“That’s a problem.”
“No, it’s a fucking disaster. Someone sold us out. And when I find them, I’m going to make them wish they were never fucking born.”
He nods, his expression unreadable. “And Rory?”
I roll my shoulders, forcing the tension down. “She doesn’t leave my sight until I know exactly who the traitor is and where they’re hiding.”
“We could take her to the Iron,” he suggests. “No one can touch her there.”
Jaw locked, I shake my head. “Not after the bullshit herfather pulled. She’s not setting foot in that place unless I’m with her.”
Conrad’s going to lose his fucking mind when he realizes Alicia’s gone. And I’ll be damned if Rory gets caught in his warpath.
The empty glass hits the counter with acrack.
“We’re staying here until I sort this shit out.”
I’ve got twelve dead bodies to deal with and a traitor lurking in the shadows.
“You could disappear,” he says, watching me carefully. “Lay low until this blows over.”
