Page 21 of Revenge of a Queen

“Shot, sliced, gutted. You name it and they got it,” he muses, and I take note of the new information. Five men were murdered that night. One by Elle with a knife right across the throat and four by Lincoln in what seems to be very versatile methods. How interesting.

“This can’t be a coincidence,” Greg interrupts. “First the Octopus disappears without a trace, and now this? Someone is after us.” I force my eyes not to roll at how obvious his statement is. Fucking cunt.

“In our line of work, someone is always after us,” my father replies. Oh, father you have no idea how true that is.

“And what about King’s girl?” Atkins asks. I can hear my heart beating in my head as I try to control my emotions and refrain from gutting every fucker at this table.

Greg laughs, “What? Do you think some broken bit of pussy is capable of getting one over on us?” He asks with a snort and the guy shrugs. My blood boils at the callous referral to my best friend. It takes a lot of self-control to not react and enforce the varying levels of violence I am imagining towards him.

“Who else?” He says tentatively, not wanting to piss off the wild card Donovan. I have to cover my smile; if only they knew that the only Donovan they should be scared of, is me.

“Literally anyone,” Greg replies, with another laugh but is silenced when my father raises his hand to shut him up.

“Regardless, we leave no stone unturned. I will look into the girl myself,” he says sternly, and I stiffen slightly.

“How will you do that? The boy?” Fitzgerald asks nodding his head at me and I feel slightly hopeful that maybe he will leave it to me but of course life isn’t ever that easy.

“Of course not, I will find her myself,” he grunts back.

“Where?” Greg asks with that sick little gleam in his eye, and I have to stop myself from putting a bullet in his skull right then and there.

My father smiles. It’s cunning and full of malice, “Oh, don’t worry about that.” He put a fucking price on her head for fuck sake, was that not enough? Will it ever be enough?

I barely hear the rest of the discussion as my sole focus is on how he knows how to get to Elle. I do everything I can to protect her without alerting it to my family and when I can’t, that is where Zack takes over. Except now it isn’t just Zack, it’s also the fucking South Side Rebels, well two of them at least. Did they lead my father to her?

Does he know where she is? Or is he just bluffing? Has he already had contact with her, and she just hasn’t told me? I mean it’s not like people don’t know she is back in town. Marcus fucking named her as his fucking Queen loud and proud and the way the Rebels flock around her, there is no way she is flying under the radar.

No, impossible. I might fucking despise them, but it seems Elle has them wrapped around her finger like she does me. I know they won’t hurt her, I don’t know how, but I just do. I grind my jaw just thinking about them. Marcus was bad enough, always trying to keep her for himself, he never understood how all I ever wanted from her was friendship. I am not infatuated with her like he is.

Now it isn’t just Marcus though, it’s the other two as well. That fucking pathetic playboy Conrad and their pet hacker Blackwell. I don’t know who I despise more. That’s a lie, I do. Marcus is blinded by love and his current tantrum will pass. I know him well enough to know that. He will eventually learn the truth and then I will have someone else who will want Donovan blood just as much as me. We won’t be allies in any way, but we will have the same goal. Avenge Elle and that is good enough to keep him in my good graces.

Conrad has his own demons to chase. Elle told me what my brother did to his sister and the only reason he hasn’t killed him yet is the same reason I haven’t. Patience. Patience and planning. Killing with reckless abandonment would only end in my own demise. So instead, I wait, plan and plot. I do this so when I finally strike there will be no loose ends left to deal with. Hallows will be painted in the blood of monsters and my girls will finally sleep peacefully and protected.

Blackwell is the only one I haven't figured out yet. No demons that I can dig up. No family either. He is just void of emotion and his skills with a computer mean he has left nothing behind for me to dig up about him. The only information I have about him are the tidbits I have picked up from listening and tracking him and Elle on missions. Which summed up is that he is loyal, capable, smart, and gay. I loathe that I know nothing about him. That and the fact that Elle just blindly placed her trust in him, just like Zack. It pisses me the fuck off. All three Rebels annoy me in different ways, but Lincoln Blackwell gets under my skin more than the others.

When the official meeting concludes, one of my father’s whores’ wheels in a drinks cart and that is my cue to leave. I have no desire to watch a girl be beaten and raped repeatedly. The horrors of what happened to Elle are imprinted on my mind for all eternity. I have never looked at a girl the same way since that night.

I head to my room to get changed. I am still wearing my Hallows Prep uniform and need to lose it before joining Elle and her merry band of Rebels at the warehouse on Riverside for a ‘chill’ night of fun. Whatever the fuck that means. I shower and change into dark jeans and a fitted Henley, I throw a holster on and place a gun on either side because regardless of how ‘chill’ the night is, I don’t go anywhere unless I am armed. I learned the repercussions of that lesson the hard way when I had nothing to protect Elle with and I won’t make that mistake again.

I throw a jacket on over my ensemble and leave my room, closing and locking my door behind me and start down the hallway and spot Greg hiding in the shadows as I round the corner.

“And where are you going?” he steps out of the shadows and I feign a jump and pretend I didn’t know he was there. Just another game of shadows and mirrors.

“Out,” I say, holding his gaze firmly but making sure the hate I feel for him is hidden behind the impassive mask I wear around my family.

“Business or pleasure, little brother?” he asks.

I smile a light smile, “Oh now, Gregory, you know I leave all the business to you. You’re dad's heir after all. So why not indulge in the pleasure only?” I say sweetly with a laugh like we are in on some inside joke together.

He laughs and moves to clap me on the shoulder, and it takes everything in me to not rip his arm clean off his body.

“You not pounded enough of those Hallows Prep holes yet? They are easy prey; don’t you want more of a challenge?” he asks.

“Oh, I like the challenge of working my way through every one of them,” I say with what I hope is a smug enough grin, like I am showing off my conquests.

Clearly it works because Greg laughs, “You should have told me, I would have taken a bet to see who could complete it the fastest.”

I fake a laugh in response in favor of telling him that raping girls against their will wouldn’t count and then slicing his throat. No, laughing is better for now.

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