Bound to Darkness (Doubeck Crime Family)

Instead of forcing my focus, I head out into the living room to find her. But she’s not there. The kitchen is empty. As is the bedroom, the bathroom, all of it.

I listen, straining my ears for a single sound. But all I hear is the scuffle of the guards outside the door. When I fling the door wide, they all stare at me. The man nearest the door recovers first. “Is there a threat, sir?”

“Did you see my friend? Is she out here?”

They all glance around. “No, it’s just us, sir. Your friend went out a little while ago. A guard is with her too.”

I nod my thanks, grab some sneakers, and rush toward the elevator. I stab the button a few times, needing it to move, until finally, the doors open.

The ride feels like forever, and I scan the street for her. She doesn’t know anyone here, so she can’t have gone far. Not without extra money or connections.

But I’ve learned not to underestimate her. Not when she sets her mind on something.

I jog down the street, scanning faces in the crowds, trying to pick her out of it. It wouldn’t be hard for me if she were actually with the people. But no, she wouldn’t be. The ball alone the other night was hard enough for her. She’d find somewhere to lay low, to relax, to kill the pain I’ve caused her.

I glance up at the sign of the hotel and spot the bar through the window. In seconds, I’ve shoved my way inside, scanning for her blonde hair, the slight slump of her shoulders, anything.

But she’s not here.

A bellhop comes over. “Can I help you, sir?”

I shake my head and leave to find another hotel with another bar. It’s where I’d go if I were in her shoes.

I check three more nearby hotels, but she’s in none of them. Not even a glance. I’d asked the staff, the bartenders, anyone who would speak to me, but no one has seen her, as far as they can tell by my description.

How the fuck can the council call this protection? How can my sister?

My fucking sister.

I dig my phone out of my pocket and dial her number. Of course, it goes straight to voicemail. “Selena. You seem to have a problem keeping your promise. Right now, Rose is missing, and I haven’t seen nary a guard or security person from your end. What the fuck kind of protection do you call this?” I hang up, wishing I could throw my phone and watch it shatter to relieve some of the burn in my chest. But it won’t help.

On the street again, it’s getting dark, and my fear is shifting back and forth between anger and worry. I can’t leave her out here all alone, fending for herself, yet that’s the exact scenario I’ve tried to get her to accept. She’d be alone, and I won’t have a single say in what she does, who she sees, none of it.

And it will be all my fault.

22

ROSE

The plan forms in my mind the second I walk into the bar and spot all those couples with their heads pressed together. If he doesn’t want me to be a virgin, I guess I can take care of that pretty easily.

I get a stool close to the bartender and wait since I don’t have any cash. It doesn’t take long for a man to wander over and throw himself into the stall next to me. The second he gets within a foot of me, I want to cringe away. The scent of him isn’t right. Just the feeling of him near me is enough to send my senses into overdrive.

But I have to think of a plan. So I shift on the stool and meet his gray eyes and try to smile. “Hi.”

He gives me a wide grin, toothy, like a wolf. It should’ve sent me running if I were in my right mind. “Hey there. Can I buy you a drink?”

I duck my chin, going for demure as opposed to repulsed. “That would be great. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

He signals for the bartender, who brings our round pretty quickly. I practically dive for my drink, needing the alcohol to dull my senses and lead me through this.

Once we are settled in with our drinks, the man leans toward me and extends his hand. “The name’s Dan. You are?”

I shake his hand and nod. “My name is Val.” It’s the first name that pops into my head, and I regret it the second the syllables leave my mouth.

“Val,” he says, leaning in again, despite the fact that the bar is pretty quiet.

I hate the fact that he’s not Kai. Even more so, I hate the fact that I’m not drunk yet.