Page 121 of Captive Bride

Tristan

Night is darker without Isobel.

Everything is darker.

Everything will be dark now that her light is gone from the world.

The last spark of starlight died with her last breath.

Her letter falls from my fingers. I lounge in my penthouse. Flickering candles do little to light the massive space.

The room was full when she was here. Now, the cavernous ceiling threatens to swallow me whole.

I take a drink. Wine tastes like nothing. I will taste nothing since I can no longer taste her.

Love, Isobel.

A command.

A promise.

A benediction.

I pull out my gun. Merc takes a sharp breath. He and Benny watch me from the fireplace.

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder.

There is no triumph in senseless death.

Isobel’s death was senseless.

They drove her to it. They took everything from her and made her…

No. They didn’t do it.

Idid.

I wasn’t good enough or fast enough to stop this. I fucked up, got myself arrested, and left her alone and vulnerable.

“I can’t live without her now,” I say, still looking at my gun.

“Killing yourself doesn’t solve anything,” Benny says softly from across the room.

“Killing the fucker who stole her from me does,” I say, standing. I check my gun and look at my friends. “Ask for volunteers—but not ones with family at home. I’m going in. The Governor will answer for her death. Should’ve done this in the first place.”

Merc has his phone out, already calling in the troops.

The Montagues will rise. We will take down the Governor’s mansion, and I will take down the Governor himself.

“Benny, you and Merc stay here. I might need you to bail my ass out again,” I say, trying to smile, but my oldest friend sees through me.

“Not happening, brother. You can’t leave us out of the action. I know what she meant to you. We loved her like a sister. We have your back.” Benny pulls out his own weapon and checks the clip. “Besides, this sounds like fun,” he says with a grimace.

“Fifteen guys will meet us a block from the mansion. We go in the second wave, let the guys take out the first line of defense, then we come in. Gives you a better shot of getting to the master suite,” Merc says, putting his phone back in his jacket pocket before pulling out his own gun.

He nods to me. My heart is ice, but I know I should be grateful to my friends.

They’ll get me in. They’ll give me my shot.

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