The Hollow (Preacher Brothers 4)

He lifted his free hand, and I watched as he curled it into a fist. I waited for the hit, the pain, the inevitable. But there was nothing. Just Maximillian leaning down so his face was so close to mine I smelled the blood on his lips.

“I’m going to let you watch me end his life, Nadja. Then, when you’re so broken you’re hanging on by a thread, I’m going to snap you in half until I’m the only thing you can hold onto in order to stay together.”

And as I stared into his dead, soulless eyes, I knew he meant that down to his very marrow.

29

Frankie

Getting the paperwork that would ensure Nadja and myself could safely get the fuck out of here, go far away until either things died down or I could come up with a plan to fix the situation, had taken too damn long.

I looked over at the passenger seat briefly and glanced at the manila envelope that held everything we’d need to get out of the country. That was one of the good things about being on the other side of the law. It was easy to acquire this kind of underground shit.

False passports, birth certificates, and any other legal documentation that would totally change our identities.

I tried texting Wilder when I was done and heading back. He hadn’t answered. I called him… still no answer. My nerves were nuclear at that point as I thought about an array of wrong shit that could have gone down and that’s why my twin wasn’t answering. I was probably overreacting.

Wilder would protect Nadja with his life, because he knew I loved her. And although him not answering his phone wasn’t unusual, he wouldn’t ghost me during this time. He knew how fucking insane I was for her and wouldn’t leave me hanging when it would only make me more frantic.

I squeezed my hands on the steering wheel, the leather creaking momentarily before I loosened my hold and breathed out slowly. I turned onto the street that would lead to the house, feeling even more anxious to see Nadja the closer I got to her.

I checked in with Wilder once while I’d been in the city, my protectiveness toward Nadja controlling me. I supposed having the love of your life taken from you and being without her for five years tended to make a normally rational man one possessive bastard.

If I could’ve tethered her to my side for the rest of my fucking life, that’s exactly what I would’ve done. It wasn’t rational or even sane, but hell, that was pretty damn realistic for me.

I’d been speeding the whole way home, trying to be mindful, because the last thing I needed was to get pulled over by the fucking cops.

Once at the gate, I quickly punched in the code. My anxiety was climbing by the second, this horrible feeling in the pit of my gut starting to make me sweat. The gate started to open, and thank fuck Wilder had fixed the damn thing.

I hauled ass up the driveway, the fear in the pit of my stomach becoming more prominent the closer I got to the house. Something was wrong. I knew it, felt it. And when I saw the front door partially open, I barely had the SUV thrown into park before I was getting out of the driver side and running toward the front door.

I had my gun out and ready and slowed as I neared the entrance. I stopped for a moment, willing my heart to become steady, and opened up all my other senses. I didn’t hear anything, not even the sound of the clock in the foyer ticking.

With my back pressed to the house, I pushed the door open with my foot, the gun raised and at the ready. Still nothing. No sound. No movement.

I entered the house, most of the lights off except for the one that came from the study down the hall. That wasn’t how it was when I felt, and my hackles rose even more. The golden glow seemed obscenely bright in the otherwise darkened house.

I checked first the kitchen then the living room before making my way toward the study, keeping my back to the wall. Once at the partially opened door, I stopped, just breathing in slowly and exhaling evenly. And then I turned and entered the room, immediately seeing Nadja sitting behind the desk, her wrists bound to the arms of the chair with duct tape, a thick piece of the silver tape covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed, wetness on her cheeks because she was crying.

“Oh, baby,” I said low, my emotions clouding all rational thought.

My heart started beating double-time as I then saw Wilder on the floor, his position prone, his body motionless. The only saving grace was I could see he was breathing. He was still alive despite the blood that was pooled beside his head.