Savage Heart (Wreck & Ruin 2)

The men gather in the upstairs spaces, several of them, including most of the guards from the cells beneath. They’d leave a couple down there for security purposes but that was it. It was the one time a month where the rules slackened.

All these men, they were disgusting. Filthy, vile creatures that deserved everything that was coming to them. I’d spent the last hour rigging the building, and now I’m bringing Kingston up for his punishment.

The cuff is still undone on one wrist, keeping him free though to everyone else he looked like he was still restrained. Clayton and Derek sit at the head of the table, men spread around them. No girls were upstairs yet but I knew they wouldn’t be. Not yet. With everyone distracted, Lex, Wren and Ryker would be organizing the extraction of them from beneath the house, using an old service door at the very end of the halls that opens up into the gardens behind the house. It was a dangerous entry, blocked off years ago because of the crumbling foundation but it was the only way out for them.

The commotion we’re about to cause up here will keep everyone busy for long enough.

Kingston keeps calm at my side, eyes taking in the men and the guns around us, but I had more up my sleeve than he had awareness of. He wouldn’t be getting out if I hadn’t made this plan, there was no way he would be able to fight off this many, even with me here.

“The notorious Kingston Heart,” Clayton calls to the room, “the man who proclaims himself the king of London.”

We remain quiet.

“The Ghost has done well, don’t you think?” Clayton asks.

There are grunts in response.

“You all heard what this man did to Tobias.” He says, “I didn’t quite care if Hunter brought him back breathing but now, I’m quite glad he did. It’s a good reminder of what will happen to any of you if you choose to betray the Syndicate.”

All the dramatics, I think sourly.

“Kneel,” Derek orders from beside Clayton.

I force Kingston to his knees, the cuffs rattling.

“I just want you to know, Kingston,” Clayton stands, “That when we’re done with you, that pretty little girlfriend is next.” I stiffen. “Mm,” Clayton continues, “I remember everything about her, those pretty brown eyes, that killer body, I think I’ll keep her for myself.”

Kingston shakes in anger by me, his eyes burning. Shit, shit, shit.

I squeeze his shoulder, reminding him that it wouldn’t come to that. He thankfully keeps his mouth shut.

“Part of me wants to keep you alive long enough to watch but I promised a show.” Clayton stops in front of us.

“And you, Hunter,” He turns to me. “You should be kneeling too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing since you’ve been off running around London? The girl, who is she?”

Fuck.

“No one.”

He didn’t remember but then that was hardly surprising, she didn’t look the same for one, not as broken and he didn’t pay enough attention to those around him.

“You’ve skirted your duties once again for pussy.”

“A man has needs.”

“There are plenty of girls here for you to choose from.”

Sickness churns my gut, “Unfortunately, unwilling girls don’t get me off.”

He chuckles, “Shame, we’ve gotten our hands on some pretty ones recently. They remind me of that girl you used to fuck. I don’t remember her name now.”

I don’t answer.

“You know the one I’m talking about, don’t you, Hunter? The one that was beaten to death.”

Kingston remains silent.

“By one of your men.”

“Yes,” he clicks his fingers, “Such a shame.”

A few long seconds of silence passes between us.

“Kneel, Hunter. I may not kill you, but you don’t ignore orders from us.”

I don’t get a chance to kneel willingly, I’m smacked on the back of the knees with a baton, forcing my legs to bend. I let myself go, hitting the floor on my kneecaps with a loud crunch.

Okay, so this wasn’t part of the plan but it’s fine, I think. Pretending to readjust myself as Clayton walks with Derek at his side, I nudge Kingston. He looks at me, anger boiling.

“Now.” I mouth.

He releases his arms, revealing the lack of restraints and pulls the gun from the back of my trousers, aiming it at Derek. He fires once, hitting him in the back of the skull.

The room erupts into chaos. Kingston shoots several of them dead while several of the men I’d hired storm the building, taking out any of the ones now running from the carnage. Kingston fights his way through, just like we planned but me, I was going after Clayton. I don’t see what happens to Kingston once I leave the room, following the fleeing shape of the man who had made Isobel’s life an absolute misery.

He disappears around the corner, so I slow, pulling out the second weapon I have on my body and preparing for the fight. I hear the shouts and hollers from the men behind me, the fighting continuing. I hoped Kingston was out now, my men would follow leaving anyone still alive to pick up the pieces. They’ll come to Clayton’s defense sooner or later. I had to find him first and then destroy this place.

I turn the corner finding the hall empty. I stick to the wall, back pressed against it as I travel down it, watching, always watching, both forward and behind. I pull the handle on the first door, pushing it open only to find it empty. I continue, the further I get into the house, the quieter it becomes behind me.

Isobel needed Kingston, he had to get out.

But I couldn’t let that distract me.

I open the second door and then the third, but I don’t find Clayton. I stop at the final door. There was nowhere else for him to go. I shove the door open abruptly and promptly get smacked by a bat, it slams into my stomach, winding me. I double over and the bat comes down onto my spine.

Fuck. Fuck!

I hit the floor.

Clayton laughs.

“You think I don’t know!?” He bellows, “you think I don’t know how you’ve worked against me these past few weeks!?”

The bat comes down hard again, cracking a rib, “I’ve seen it all, Hunter, I know what you’re doing.” His chuckle is damning, “You’ve never been with the Syndicate. I will give you this though, I didn’t anticipate this. You have more control than I realize but that stops here. You will tell me everything.”

His foot replaces the bat, slamming into the broken side and cracking the bone harder. I can’t stop my cry of pain, at the end of the day, pain is what makes us human.

It shows us we are still alive.

Suffering. Always suffering.

He kicks me again, and again, winding me until breathing becomes too difficult and then I hear more footsteps, the guards who survived the hit I organized storming to protect their boss. I don’t stand a chance against them, they pull me off the ground and all I can do is sag, falling forward as two men hold me between them.

“Take him to the cells,” Clayton demands, “Chain him, remove all weapons.”

I laugh, “That’s right, Clayton, remove all weapons. Chain me. I don’t think you realize I’ve killed with less.”

I see his fear, taste it.

“If he gets out, I will hold you accountable,” Clayton threatens.

And there lies the problem. Currently, they were more afraid of him than they were of me but that would soon change. And by the time they realize that, it will be too late.

Before they can fully restrain me, I subtly reach across to my wrist, tapping the button on the screen, initiating the countdown.

I didn’t care if I died, I had always accepted it. It was the one thing certain in this whole thing, my last gift to Isobel.

This would free her entirely.

From this.

From me.