Page 8 of Torched

IMOGEN

PRESENT DAY

“BecauseIgotyourprecious Babushka.”

I gasp when the smug declaration slides into my ears, the jerk of my body an automatic response to escape this bitch’s grasp. I hate the fact that I didn’t put up much of a fight when she strolled into my room like I invited her to come braid my hair. I was too shell-shocked to do anything until I was looking into the cylinder of that damn gun.

“Na-ah. Don’t,Genny.” The barrel pushes my head to the side even more.

My neck feels strained as the muscles stretch, adding to my discomfort, but it’s nothing compared to the dread I’m feeling when I look at the despair on Callie’s face before I see the transformation happening that she's known for. She can stay calm and level-headed, not letting anything faze her. But if you really piss her off, she switches to survival mode, ready to go to war. My mam used to tell me I have the same ability, but so far, I haven’t seen it yet, leaving me to believe that was only reserved for Callie’s gene pool on our Irish side. It’s like watching a marvel movie and Bruce Banner is about to become Hulk at any second. Her rosy cheeks are now flushed like a tomato, her eyes hardening with each breath she takes. But it’s the fury in her eyes that is most captivating, frightening me if I didn’t trust they will always have my back.

“I swear to God”—Callie takes a few ominous steps toward Cristina, not going any farther when Kane doesn’t allow her to pass him—“if you hurt my grandmother, Kane and Liam will be the least of your worries.”

“Ugh, you’re always so dramatic, Callie girl.” She smirks. “Tell you what... how about I take little Genny over here in exchange for yourBabushka?” The silence that follows is sharper than a machete, and I just try to let my eyes tell Callie she doesn’t have to answer that.

“Huh?” she says when Callie doesn’t reply, but holds her stare like the warrior that my cousin is. “What do you say? Babushka for Genny. Or I can just shoot Genny now, and then you’ll realize you’ll have no chance but to listen to me until I give the old nag back to you.”

“You wouldn’t do that.” My eyes lock with Liam. His jaw is set, his deep blue eyes almost as dark as the night. A soft ocean breeze makes his blonde strands dance, exposing the deep frown on his forehead. Tears fill up my eyes when I can see the worry etched in his gaze. I hate seeing him tormented like this, but what I hate more is that the same woman who plagued him before is now doing it again. It increases the anger I feel for her.

A flat-out rage that is tempted to kill.

“And why wouldn’t I, mysweetLiam?”

“Because you want to live.”

I can hear her snicker only because her mouth is so close to my ears.

“You want to live, and you know that if you kill Imogen, I will kill you. Right here. Right now,” Liam adds. “I will do everything that’s necessary to get Babushka back. But I will not hesitate to do that without you if you hurt Genny, and you know it. Hurt her,” he pauses, a slight challenge in his stance while he takes a tentative step forward, “and you will sign your death certificate.”

The silence in the air is pregnant, the wind seizing every movement that’s made. From the corner of my eye, Jeremy grabs my attention, slowly shuffling his feet behind Kane, Liam, and Callie with the rest of their team. Their guns are aimed and loaded, a stern look on each of their faces, but I give him a pleading look to stand back. I’m not willing to find out if Cristina is bluffing.

“Let them lower their guns,” Cristina demands, her gaze volleying between the three in charge. “Now!”

It’s eerie how quickly this girl can switch her moods, her amusement just as believable as her anger, even though it’s only seconds apart. It shows how truly twisted she has always been.

“Lower your guns.” Callie’s voice booms over the deck, her eyes never leaving Cristina’s. “How do I know you have my grandmother?”

Cristina sighs with annoyance, pulling her phone from her pocket while she keeps the gun connected with my scalp. The move releases some pressure from my neck, allowing me to breathe freely, and I suck in a lungful of air. “I knew you were going to say that.” With a few taps, she waits until Liam’s phone pings in his pocket. Reluctantly, he takes it out and taps the screen, and the moment he sees the evidence, it’s clear on his face. He offers Callie an expression of pity as he shows the screen to her and Kane.

“Fine. What do you want?” Callie takes the lead again, fury coming from her eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask!” Cristina beams, bringing back her happy self again. She lets go of me, directing me to the lounge set to our left, with the steel still cold against my hair, before she gestures for me to take a seat. With a straightened spine, I throw her a glare until I look straight into the barrel, then I twist my neck, trying to find comfort in Liam’s gaze on me.

“I want the Florentine diamond.” The way she blurts it out suggests she’s ordering agelatoor something, and I have no clue what she’s talking about. My confusion is shared when I notice the same expression on Callie’s face.

“Good for you,” Kane opts at the same time Liam says, “So does half of the world.”

“What is the Florentine diamond?” I question, as Callie and I turn our focus on the two brothers.

“Go on, tell them,” Cristina urges.

Kane glares at her, probably hoping she will melt through the deck within the next few seconds, but obviously he has no luck. We probably have more luck that she gets picked up by a giant eagle that’s in need of a snack.

“It’s a diamond that was once in the possession of the imperial family of Austria. It has been lost since 1918. Rumor is, it was stolen right after the first world war, but never located ever since. It’s light yellow with a double rose cut, worth around $750,000 at the time,” Kane informs.

“How much would that be now?” I ask.

Kane locks eyes with Cristina, his mouth pinched, before his gaze drops to me.

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