Page 64 of Depraved
Heat crawls up the back of my neck as visions flashed through my mind. That entire case of ringed fingers … could those have been engagement rings?
Brittany’s face pops up inside my head. Thomas stole her from the pool hall after her boyfriend had claimed her aloud.
I stare at my mother, not really seeing her, as I realize Thomas Stone’s weakness.
He has a penchant for stealing taken women.
I think back to when I ran away with Jonah. Thomas and his crew had been on top of us before Black. He hadn’t stayed to watch his father die.
He’s always wanted to take me.
But not just because I’m an omega. Because I’ve been claimed. Half of my appeal is that he wants the thrill of taking me away from someone else.
Frost coats my insides as that sick, twisted realization rattles me.
“Elena?” Mom puts a hand on my shoulder, and I start in surprise. I hadn’t even realized she’d stood up.
Cold certainty pricks my spine as I realize the bikers are a wild goose chase.
If I’m right, little Stone Jr. is still here…waiting for me.
I lean down and tap on the first ring I see. It’s a three-carat oval diamond with moonstones set around the edges. “This one,” I tell Georgia.
My mother gapes, surprised I chose anything without a fight. Georgia gasps in delight. “Oh, that’s just perfect! What setting—gold, white gold, platinum?”
“What do you think?” I deflect because I don’t really give a shit about diamonds.
Once Black is back, I’m going to ream his ass about this wedding and try to get it delayed. Forever.
But right now, I need to think of a way to lure little Thomas in…and get Black back here in time to finish him off.
Georgia is rattling off delightedly about the pros and cons of each metal. I interrupt her. “That one sounds good,” I say, without really hearing a thing she said.
But then she claps and squeals, like a giddy little girl, though she has to be near fifty. “Oh, this is so exciting! Next, we’ll have to get you the perfect dress.”
I stop and stare at her as a Cheshire smile crawls across my lips. “Yes. A dress would be perfect. Let’s go shopping tomorrow.”
Before she can say anything else or my mother can recover from her stunned silence, I turn and stride from the room.
They think we’re planning a wedding. But we’re not. We’re planning a murder.
18
JONAH
Elena’s speaking so rapidlythat if I didn’t have shifter hearing, I doubt I’d be able to make out any of the words she’s saying. As it is, I only get the gist.
I hold up a hand, urging her to stop—a little concerned by the manic look in her eyes. “Wait. Wait. Wait. You want to dowhat?” There’s no way she said what I just think she said.
The lowest ranking member of our pack wants to square off against a psycho alpha? I mean, Elena likes thrills, but that is not possible. Maybe my ears got fucked up in the explosion.
I dig a finger into one, trying to clean the wax out as she paces in front of me in her attic nest. She can’t go very far because the angle of the roof is too steep, so standing is really only possible in the middle five feet or so. Her sneakers squeak with every spin she makes, and I wonder at the shadows under her eyes. Is she speaking out of exhaustion right now? We’re all stretched a little thin. But her plan is downright exhaustion-loopy. Dangerous.
“Gah!” She whirls, stopping her frantic pacing, and flexes her fingers as if she wants to choke me out. “Aren’t you listening? I already explained: I set a trap to lure Thomas Stone. My mother is such a frickin’ showoff that there’s no way she won’t tell people her daughter is going dress shopping to marry Black.”
I stop listening right there. Marry Black. Marry Black. I’m drowning. But not in water. In hot sticky tar. I’m drowning and burning alive at the same time.
“You’re going to marry him?” I breathe. I’m surprised I’m able to speak.
