Page 69 of Shattered King

He tugged me closer and kissed the top of my head. “Shit, woman. So fucking strong.”

Thirty minutes later we were parked on the side of the road, a short distance from where Pierce had last been spotted. We’d dropped Josh at Ruby’s apartment, with Zeke there as well to watch over both of them.

Hunter twisted in his seat. “Any of this look familiar?”

I shook my head.

Frustration gnawed at me as I stared out into the dark street. Neco was in the back seat, Van and Jude in a car behind us. As much as I’d dreaded coming here, I wanted to do this. I wanted to help.

“Can we try down there?” I pointed through the window. “That feels right.” Or more: really, really wrong. A definite indication that’s where we should head next. Some of the street signs were missing. Not that I’d really paid much attention to them when I’d come here with Pierce. I’d been a scared fifteen-year-old kid. Afraid of what I’d seen, afraid my stepfather would kill me like he’d killed our maid if I talked.

Hunter turned onto the street, and the uneasy feeling got stronger. “It’s down here. I’m sure of it.” I turned in my seat. “There. There it is.”

The old apartment building was completely dark. There was tape across the door and a “Condemned” sign out front. This did not surprise me. The place had already been a dump all those years ago.

Hunter parked outside and looked over at me. “I want you to stay in the car, okay?”

I nodded.

He handed me a gun. I’d handled one before. “You see anything, you hit the horn.”

“I can do that.” I was okay with staying right here. The idea of walking around an abandoned apartment building and accidently running into Pierce in the dark sent dread spiralling through me.

The guys all climbed out of the cars and I locked the doors. Hunter and Neco went through the front, Jude and Van going around the back. As soon as they were out of sight, the car seemed to be engulfed in silence, the ticking of the engine as it cooled the only sound, along with my rapid breaths. Was Pierce in there now? Would they find him? Would this finally be over?

The longer I sat there not knowing what was going on inside, the more nervous I got. Fifteen minutes ticked by with no sign of any of the guys. I pulled my phone from my pocket to distract myself, typing out a text to Ruby, checking on Josh.

I hit send and lifted my head. . . .

I jerked back in my seat, a scream jamming in my throat.

Pierce stood at the front of the car, staring at me, or at least where he thought I was. Hunter’s windows were tinted, but he must have seen the light from my phone. I froze as he rounded the car and came right up to the passenger side, his face coming up close to the glass.

Without realizing what I was doing, I’d grabbed the gun and lifted it, aiming it between his eyes. My breathing got choppy, faster. I wanted to pull the trigger. I wanted to watch the son of a bitch die in front of me.

“I know you’re in there,” he said.

I stayed silent, unable to look away . . .

Ruby’s reply to my text buzzed in my lap, lighting up where I’d dropped my phone. I knew he saw me through the glass then because he smiled.

“You won’t shoot me, Lucinda. You know we belong together. Remember this place? I’ve been reliving some happy memories. We had fun here together, you and I.” The smile slipped, his eyes boring into me, like he could see me clear as day. “Tell me where the painting is and we can start over. Just you and me.”

I still didn’t answer.

His face came closer and I knew he was trying to see me. Then he snarled and reared back, punching the window, his heavy gold ring connecting with the glass so hard I thought it might actually smash.

“Get the fuck out of the car!” he screamed.

I unfroze, jolted from my frozen terror and all but dove over to the driver side, slamming my hand down on the horn, holding it there.

Pierce turned instantly and took off.

He was going to get away.

I don’t know that came over me; I just knew I wanted this to be over. I wanted Pierce to pay for what he’d done to me. I’d unlocked the door and opened it before I knew my intention. Lifting the gun, hand shaking like hell, I aimed it at his retreating back and fired—then I kept on firing until there were no bullets left.

The ear-splitting bang, bang, bang was now a far less satisfying click, click, click. But I couldn’t stop. I continued squeezing the trigger over and over again . . .