Page 82 of Burned

He doesn’t exist.

The question tugs at the back of my mind. What did Carlos tell her to get her to turn on me, to leave me for dead? How does my ruin give him what he wants this time? And when is this all finally going to end?

I’m ready to move on to the future. I hope she wants to be there with me when all this is over.

Right now, all my thoughts turn to the line of communication we’re waiting for, along with the brownies Cass promised me she’d deliver soon. I move to the dining room, where my little brother is actively developing tech neck, his head bowed over his laptop.

Gregory feels me enter without looking up. “Any time now,” he says, knowing what I want.

What we all want.

I pace the room.

The sounds of Ryan’s laughter float into the dining room. They’re building their cardboard castle in the living room. A fortress to keep his plastic dinosaurs safe.

The kid’s got a little Bachman in him.

Isobel finally gave us some concrete information. Carlos sent her here. He knows where we are. And if she’s telling the truth, he may not know she’s flipped on him.

Something sick in my stomach twists.

She’s working with me to betray Carlos. As she once worked with Carlos to betray me.

May the best man live.

Either way, this ends.

My men and I are waiting for the message from Carlos that Isobel said he’d send—his demands, along with the threats he’ll make if those demands aren’t met.

Then, we’re getting out of here.

Red Shutters may be a fortress, complete with its own army. But I’m not taking any chances.

Which is why Princess Erin is currently locked upstairs in the Beast’s tower for the foreseeable future. Two men outside her door. Plenty of others are stationed below the window.

“It’s here!” Gregory calls out. “Lucian. It’s here!”

The audio begins before I cross the room to the laptop. At first, there is only static.

Then a man laughs. A laugh I have not heard since England.

Is that…it can’t be him. He’s dead.

A small, broken sound comes from behind me. Cass is in the doorway, a plate of fresh brownies resting on her lap. All the color has gone from her face.

I turn the screen away from her. “Cass. You can’t be here right now.” Should have locked her up, too.

Mack shows up, “Cass, let’s go.”

“That was him. I heard his voice.” Her head turns over her shoulder, terrified as Mack takes her away. “Was that him? Lucian.”

“Mack get her and Ryan to the room for now.”

My full attention goes back to the screen. The recording crackles, old and distorted, but the voice is unmistakable. Lazy. Cruel. Full of that smugness men who were born into this tend to carry.

It’s him. It’s Caleb.

“Sweet little Erin,” Caleb says through the phone. “Always so quiet when it matters.”