Page 52 of Secret Betrayals
Sarafina and Sebastian—when they get heated? They’re a fucking storm. A two-headed hurricane. The only reason the world’s still intact is because they’ve never hit level tenat the same time. Thank fuck for that.
“Fine,” Fi mutters through clenched teeth. “I won’t beat her assright now. But if she or any of her entitled-ass friends say some slick shit like that again, I’ll burn everything they love to the fucking ground.”
If I ever said she waslikeSebastian, I lied. She’s worse.
I rub my temples, exhausted. This was supposed to be simple. Introduce the kids, locate the leak, retrieve our shit, and go home.
“Sarafina, do not test me today.” My voice is low, deadly. “Let thatcagnarun her mouth. I’m sure it’s hard for her. Finding out she’s got siblings who are smarter, stronger, and better than she’ll ever be. I’m sure the inferiority is hitting her hard.”
I don’t smile. I say it deadpan. Armand chokes on a laugh. Seb’s shoulders shake. Malikai snorts. Finally, Sebastian lets go and laughs full out.
“Fucking hell,” Brick mutters under his breath.
“What did you just say about my daughter, you dumb Black whore?!” Heather screeches.
Ohhh. Wrong fucking move.
“Sebastian, NO!”
Too late.
One shot.
She hits the floor, screaming, hand pressed to her shoulder where blood is already pooling. Her screams are like nails on a chalkboard. Axel grabs the gun Brick had earlier and aims it at my son.
Bad fucking idea.
Malikai, Sarafina, and Armand already have their weapons trained on him, unblinking. Daring him to breathe wrong. And me? I’m just standing here, so over all this bullshit. I sigh again.We really could’ve just stayed the fuck home. GoddamnSammy.The door flies open, and in walks the doctor, nose buried in his tablet, oblivious to the war zone he’s just entered.
“Stop,” I say simultaneously as he starts to speak.
“Dr. Callahan,” I warn, and his head jerks up, eyes darting between me and the blood-covered woman on the ground.
He freezes, one foot backpedaling toward the door, face caught betweenI want to helpandI should’ve called in sick. I lift one finger. Just one. He gets the message.Stay your ass right there.He fidgets but doesn’t move.
“Someone get Backwoods Barbie outta here and get her some damn help,” I snap. “Put the guns down, all of you. Sit your asses down and shut the fuck up so we can find out what’s happening with Talon.”
My voice slices through the noise, calm, cold, and commanding. My children obey immediately. Axel? He hesitates. Then moves.
Sebastian’s still fuming, but I give him a hard stare. He’s proud, and I’m proud of him—she asked for that bullet. Still, we have bigger issues. Heather’s finally sedated, her sobs quieted by something heavy and medical. Good. That noise was about to drive me to murder.
Dr. Callahan finally clears his throat and tells us what we’ve been dying to know.
Talon survived. Two gunshots. One hell of a crash. Banged up, bruised, but alive. He’ll need physical therapy, but he’ll recover. They’re worried about his head injury—his helmet cracked on impact, and they had to cut it off. If not for that helmet, it would’ve been worse. A lot worse.
He finishes reviewing the recovery plan, meds, and expected hospital time. I listen. I nod.
But I’ve made my decision.
Is this environment? With these people? It’s too damn toxic. My kids don’t need to breathe this poison. If I need info, I’ll get it from the devices we planted in Talon’s ICU room or hack into the hospital’s system. Yep. I said it. I came prepared. Armand got the layout, and we made sure we had ears everywhere that mattered. I don’t trust anyone. Not for a second. I give the room one long, cold look. Pure disappointment in every inch of me. Then I turn and walk out.
No goodbyes.
Just one word running through my head as I leave the chaos behind.
Idioti.
Fifteen
