Page 9 of Mates & Mercenaries

“Creed,” Skylar whispers, sounding like a broken woman, but she doesn’t go anywhere. She doesn’t run towards him like I thought she might do. She remains close, tucked into my shadow, like I’m the one who can protect her from Creed. I’m sad she feels that way about him, but I can’t help feeling a little pleased that she wants me.

But I’m actually not too surprised that she doesn’t want to move, because the grim sight of the bloody corpse pressed into her carpet stands in between us and Creed.

When you see this sort of sight on a battlefield, it’s expected. It’s always horrifying, but you become a little too desensitized to it. But here, it’s terrible. Even I’m shocked that Creed went so far. Seeing this, with the happy music playing and the sounds of the party zipping through the house, is weird. It’s a juxtaposition that I think has all of us uncomfortable.

“We need to…to clean this up,” Clay stammers awkwardly. “We need to figure this out before the mob bosses find out what’s going on. I don’t know if this will go over well.”

Good idea, but we don’t exactly have cleaning supplies on us, and certainly not something that will clean up blood. But this is the home of a gangster. If any home has the sort of supplies that we need, it’ll be this one. These men must clean up blood all the time.

“I will go find something,” Sam gushes, clearly thinking along the same lines as me. “I’m sure we can get everything we need. You guys just keep everyone else out.”

Just because Evan asked us to keep his daughter safe, there’s no way he’s going to be happy aboutthis. Fuck, first he will have to figure out how this attack happened and who the hell is behind it, but then he will have to see if he can get rid of all the evidence. Blood and brains deep in the carpet will be much harder to dispose of than just a body.

No one says a word, and it’s like the room has become a pressure cooker that’s about to explode. Standing around in silence is killer. I can almost hear every second slipping away, and it’s bringing up an anxiety I don’t think any of us knows what to do with.

The door swings open, and it isn’t Sam on the other side of it.

It’s our worst nightmare.

Evan, and he does not look happy as he surveys the gruesome scene splayed out in front of him. “What thehellis going on here?”

5

SKYLAR

Everyone is acting as if this is all business as usual. As if I wasn’t just attacked and almost kidnapped. Like I didn’t just have to freaking kill a man to keep myself safe—something I’m pretty sure is going to haunt me forever. And as if there isn’t a God damn wolfpack cleaning up the mess of a mutilated dead body in my room. I thought this party was going to be a horrible one, but this isn’t something I could have ever predicted.

“Come with me,” Dad says as he pulls me further away from my bedroom and the wolves I would much prefer to stay with. Even Creed, even after all of that. “We need to go and say goodbye to our guests. Can you please put on something not covered in blood?”

I stare at him, horror struck. “What do you mean? Say goodbye to the people who sent those caterers to kill me? I can’t do that.”

I don’t think I will ever be able to close my eyes again. Even if I try to think about it now, I shudder with terror. Images of that whole horrible scene overcome me and make me feel ill. Dad pulls his hand off my back as I shudder. It seems like he doesn’t want to acknowledge or feel my fear.

“We don’t know who sent those men,” Dad reminds me. “And if we don’t show the others that you are alive, that the plan failed, and act naturally at the same time, I will never be able to figure out who is trying to kidnap you.”

I don’t want to know, and I don’t care to find out. I just want to be left alone and not have to fight anymore.

But my father isn’t one to be argued with, so I comply. I go into the walk-in closet and put on the first dress I put my hands on. I don’t look at what it is, and I don’t think it matters. I just want to get out of what I’m wearing at the moment because I can’t stand the blood on it. The blood of the man who tried to hurt me. I think I’m going to burn everything that has blood on it so I never have to look at it again.

I pull everything off and drag on the dress. As I try to get a little glimpse of myself in the mirror, I realize my heart is pounding so hard it’s made my vision blurry. I can hardly see straight, much less focus on what I look like. Who the hell cares anyway?

Well, my father apparently. He shoots me a disapproving frown as I step out. Thank God he’s too distracted by what has just happened to make me change. I’m exhausted.

“There’s the main man!” someone yells as soon as my father and I make it into the main hall. “That was one hell of a party, Evan, but we really must get going.”

Dad nods sharply, just the one time. “Yeah, no problem. I just wanted to introduce you to my daughter. I’m sure it was a long time ago that you last saw her. Mason Thorne, this is Skylar.”

I put on a fake smile and shake the man’s hand. Hatred burns through my system as I am forced to touch him. Is this the man who wants to harm me? I don’t know what to make of the look in his eyes. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. He’s unhinged in a way that makes me desperately uncomfortable. But then my father probably looks that way to others too.

“And this is Griffin Hanwell.” My dad leads me towards another big, muscular guy with a glint of evil in his eyes. Maybe it was him.”

I can barely stand to look at this man. But maybe the leaders of the rival gangs aren’t where I should be looking. They are going to be far more expert at hiding what they’ve done. Plus, I highly doubt they ever get their hands dirty. I need to check out everyone else instead.

I try not to make it obvious, I try to act like I’m still engaged in conversation, but I’m taking a look at other people. Is there any guilt on show? Anyone who looks suspicious and is staring at me like they are stunned to see me still alive?

It’s incredibly frustrating because I don’t know any of these people well enough to see what’s going on underneath the surface. I know Dad explained to me that he’s waiting until he knows who is doing this before he acts out, but it’s still really freaking annoying that we’re acting all friendly with these people and about to let them go.

But it happens. Little by little, everyone vanishes. The room empties, but the noise doesn’t seem to go anywhere. I think it might be burning inside my freaking brain.

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