Page 46 of Irrevocably

The Hound glances at Astrid. “Lucien? You know this prick?”

“Yes,” she says hesitantly, looking shocked. “He’s um … um … a … friend.”

But he knows that’s a lie already. “Yeah, I don’t think he is,” the Hound says and starts walking toward me.

There’s only one way this is going to end, and unfortunately, it’s not going to be pretty. I can’t have Astrid’s friend knowing my name, my face, not yet, which means I’ll have to kill him.

“Wolf,” Astrid says, walking quickly after him. “Wait. Don’t⁠—”

I’m a fast draw, but the Hound surprises me with a sudden burst of speed, throwing himself at me before I can get my Glock. I let him take me onto the ground, before rolling with him so I can gain an advantage. It’s unfortunate Astrid took my knife, so I can’t use that, but my fists will do to knock him out, then I’ll strangle him with the nylon garotte I have in my jacket pocket.

Astrid shrieks, but I don’t pay any attention as the Hound fights back. He’s surprisingly strong and better than I expected with his fists. He manages to get in a few punches, but he’s not a professional like me. He doesn’t know how to render someone unconscious quickly and cleanly, and with minimal effort.

Eventually, I get astride him and beat him until he’s out cold on the concrete, then I reach into my jacket to grab my garotte.

“No!” Astrid shouts and rushes over, grabbing at my wrist and holding it tight. “Don’t you dare kill him.” Her silver eyes blaze with fury. “If you kill him, I’ll never tell you what you want to know. Never.”

I try to jerk my hand from her grip, but she just holds on, her blunt nails digging into my skin. “He’s seen my face, and he knows my name,” I say, through gritted teeth, annoyed that I have to spell it out for her. “I can’t let him live.”

“No,” she says again, low and hard and furious. “If you do, I’ll never tell you anything. You can send pieces of me back to Dad, but I won’t say a goddamn word.”

Her face is pale, and fierce in the dim light, her eyes burning. And I have the strangest thought. She loves him. She loves her friend, and she’ll sacrifice herself for him without hesitation.

What would it be like to have a friend like her? To have someone who would give their life for yours? My mother did, but I barely remember her. She gave her life for mine, a life that ended up being cheap. Enzo would get rid of me without a second’s thought if he had doubts about me, while at the same time, expecting me to give my life for his.

The price of my freedom is total obedience.

But Astrid has no such issues. She’s choosing this. She really would die for him.

Taking a life is the easiest thing in the world, but taking this one, in front of Astrid Starling, suddenly feels like the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.

I wanted to make her laugh, not make her cry, so what to do?

There’s only one option. If I can’t kill him, I’ll have to take him somewhere, keep him locked up so he can’t warn his club, at least until all this is over. It’s messy, and I don’t like it, but … I don’t like the alternative, either.

“Okay,” I say. “Okay.” I let go of my garotte and gently peel Astrid’s fingers from my wrist. “He can live. But I can’t let him go free, understand?”

Her lush mouth is a thin line, anger still burning in her eyes. “Why not?”

“You think he won’t ask you questions about how you know me? You think he won’t inform his club? We’re villains, Tinkerbell. We recognise each other.”

“He’s not a villain.” She’s breathing very fast. “He’s my friend.”

“Yes, and that’s why I’m letting him live.” I get to my feet and hold my hand. “Keys.”

Her chest heaves with fury, her expression taut. But she reaches into her backpack and pulls out the keys, dropping them into my palm.

“Get in the car,” I say shortly. “I’ll deal with him.”

She ignores me, crouching down beside her friend instead, and touching his bloody face gently. “Where are you going to put him?”

Again, I ignore the flick of jealousy at the way she’s looking at him, touching him. She’s not mine and I need to keep reminding myself of that.

“The trunk,” I say as I stride to the car and unlock it. “Now, get in. I won’t ask again.”

She hesitates a couple of seconds, then, with a very obvious and furious reluctance, she climbs into the passenger seat.

I drag the unconscious Hound over to the Beetle and toss him in the trunk. Then I get into the car and get the fuck out of there.