Savage Heart (Wreck & Ruin 2)

I kiss her once before I leave, I don’t give myself more.

And the entire drive over to the compound where Kingston is, makes my stomach twist. It felt wrong though this was my plan.

I knew I wouldn’t see her again. That final look, this morning, that final kiss, that was it for me.

And this time, I wondered if she’d ever be able to forgive me for what I’m about to do. I would give her everything she needed to have that fairytale, and this was the way to do it.

I hadn’t told anyone about this. This was all me.

I park the car and climb out, heading up to the house to find Kingston, Lex, Ryker and Wren waiting for me in the kitchen.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

Kingston nods, rolling his shoulders, “She’s still sleeping?”

I nod.

“Everything is in place,” Alexander confirms.

I nod again, stepping up to Kingston, “Stay still.”

He rolls his eyes but squares himself as I throw the first punch and then the second, splitting his lip. “Fuck,” he growls, spitting blood.

“Need to make it believable.” I shrug, yanking out the cuffs from my pocket. I secure one to his wrist and then we both walk to the car, the others following and splitting up to go to their designated positions. Kingston sits up front.

“She’s going to be pissed,” Kingston says once we’re on the road, “She’ll likely have your dick for keeping her out of this.”

“I couldn’t risk her being there,” I admit, “I don’t think it will go wrong but if it does, they’ll use her against me and the things they’ll do, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I understand that,” Kingston sighs, “but there’s more to it, isn’t there?”

I glance over to him, fingers curling tighter around the wheel, “You don’t need to know.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not expecting to walk out of this alive, are you?”

I sigh but don’t answer.

“She won’t forgive you, Hunter. If you leave her like this. I know Isobel.”

“So do I.”

We pull up to a set of large iron gates, the sun was only just rising, making the house darker, a looming omen. There were lights on within, people moving around.

“Time to put the cuffs on, Kingston.” I say.

He shifts, showing me his back. I pull his arms around, securing his wrists so they rest at the base of his spine. “I’m about to do the show of my life,” he grumbles, “Pretending to be a damn prisoner.”

“It’s going to be satisfying to see them burn.”

Kingston stumbles besides me, the blood from his nose crusted against his top lip. He acts drowsy, feet scuffing.

“Clayton,” I greet him where he sits at the dining room table, a girl barely eighteen stood beside him in nothing but a dirtied night dress. Her face is bruised and bloody, scrapes and cuts along her arms and legs. Her black hair hangs limply around her face, and she keeps her head down, subdued. For a second, she reminds me of Isobel, and I have to stop my legs from taking me forward, from checking it isn’t her. But I know it isn’t because she’s safely tucked away at the hotel. I doubt she was even awake yet and by the time she was, it should be over.

Kingston jerks in my grip.

“I have a present.”

Clayton looks at me, eyes vacant and then glances to Kingston, a smug smile on his face, “My, haven’t you been busy.”

I nod.

“We were starting to worry,” Clayton continues, “I sent you on a mission weeks ago and you’re only just bringing it in.”

“Well, you know how the Heart’s are, Clayton.”

He grunts before turning his attention to Kingston, “You killed my friend.”

“You sick son of a bitch,” Kingston spits, no longer acting. He stares at the girl, “I’m going to kill you.”

Clayton laughs. “I think you’re in no position to do anything.”

He jerks again, slipping slightly out of my grip, I yank him back, “Calm down.”

He seethes at me.

“Take him down,” Clayton orders, “We’ll deal with him later at breakfast in an hour.”

I nod, stifling my smug smile. Such an easy fucker to read. He’d make a public spectacle of Kingston in front of his men.

I place Kingston in one of the cells, loosening one of the cuffs so he had movement in his hand. “This is where they keep them?” He asks gruffly, face pale as he takes in the mold and damp, inhales that sickening scent of decay. “Where they kept Isobel?”

“Yes. You remember the plan?” I whisper.

Kingston nods, rolling his neck, “How long?”

“An hour at most.”

“I’m ready. You sure this will work?”

“I’m sure.”