Page 12 of The Piece You Stole

But it isn’t over.

He lowers his head and his teeth bury deep. But not in the same place. A new place that makes me sob because I can’t do this. I can’t be strong. Not anymore.

This time, no amount of biting my lip or my tongue can silence my scream.

I let it out. All my anger, my terror, and my agony.

I roar my pain out into the world and hope it’s loud enough for the hounds to hear it…

And save me.

CHAPTER 4

ADEN

What was that noise?

I angle my head toward the kitchen doorway, straining to hear the muffled thump that ripped my attention from my task.

Rhythmic pounding intensifies, and then stops. Starts up again. And then stops.

You’re going to have some headache when you shift back, Dariel.

Shaking my head, I return my focus to the map of the city I spread out on the kitchen counter. It was Kade’s idea to come up to Greg, our bar manager’s apartment on the top floor of the Cerberus. I’d assumed it was because he wanted to grab some sweats out of the closet and clean his dripping wound.

He did. But it’s not the only reason.

I drag my finger along the map. Stopping east of the city, I stab the spot harder than I need to. Not for my benefit, but for Kade’s. “They have to behere.” Kade’s doubtful stare is so visceral, I feel it heat one side of my face. “I’m sure, so there’s no need to stare at me like I’m talking out of my ass.”

An amused snort has me raising my head.

Kade, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants that sit low on his hips, regards me over the rim of what must be one of the few unbroken glasses in the building.

“You said you followed their cars for twenty minutes. On foot. You realize how many directions lead off from there?” He lifts his glass of whiskey to his lips, his gaze restless as it travels from the map, my face, and then settles on the window.

Greg, our bar manager, who is likely out of a job at the present, keeps a bottle of Macallansingle malt in his cupboard for when an occasion calls for it. Usually, the occasion is Kade provoking Dariel into a fight.

I stab my finger west of the map. “Do you see a Ferrari heading toward the warehouse district? Or north toward the college? Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

He reaches for the bottle on the counter beside him. “Fair enough. And no.”

I watch him refill the glass almost to the brim.

“She’ll be okay.” My voice is full of a confidence I don’t feel.

If Kade had seen me sprinting down the road, he’d know it for the lie it is. I was anything but confident as I chased a black Lexus down the street, hoping all it would take was a red light, two seconds to force a lock, and I could free Saige from the trunk.

What exactly was I thinking? That I was Bruce fucking Willis?

Kade’s gray eyes glint with a feral light. That’s when I know I’m staring at the wolf and not the man. “You saw what they did to her. All the scars they left her with. Now she’s back there with them.” He pauses. “She will smell like me. Like you. Are you honestly telling me they won’t be dishing out some kind of punishment?”

A guy shoved her into his trunk with no thought about her hitting her head. No care about anyone seeing him snatch a woman off the street in broad daylight. He treated her like she was nothing more than a pet that had wandered off.

In the silence, Kade lifts his glass and tosses the contents back. “So whatever plan it is you have your mind set on, I need it now. Not tomorrow, not an hour from now. Right fucking now.”

“Kade, we need—”

“East then.” He sets the glass aside, peels the bandage from his side to reveal an ugly, raw wound. It’s stopped bleeding, even if it hasn’t fully healed yet. After tossing the bandage in the trash, he turns toward the door.

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