The Dark Elite (The Dark Elite 1)

Maybe. But probably not.

It’s been less than a day since these four men took my life and flipped it upside down, sending everything I loved crashing to the floor.

Deep down, I always wondered if they would come for us. I wanted to ask Dad about it more than once, but that would’ve violated his “pretend the past doesn’t exist” rule, so I never did. I knew he wouldn’t answer me anyway.

I don’t understand. Why did this happen?

I fight back tears. All I want right now is to not be here. I want to go home and take a shower and find Brian in bed, cuddle up next to him and fall asleep.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and remind myself to stay here. I can’t let myself slip away or drift into pointless fantasies. It’s not good for my morale. I have to stay alert and on guard—a moment to escape could present itself at any moment, and I’d be a fool if I let it slip by because I wasn’t paying attention.

Fuck. Why did it have to be them?

I think about the four men I never thought I would see again—men whose younger selves were such a huge part of my past. Growing up, I could always count on Zaid and Lucas to have my back, and even Hale. Ciro’s protection stayed mostly behind the scenes, but whenever he was absent, I felt it in a lonely sort of way.

Why couldn’t it have been the other group who took me? People I could have had more reason to hate, to despise?

No. I’m lucky.

No matter how much I hate that it had to be Hale and his crew, I’m lucky it’s them. Because no matter how much Hale hates me—and the others too, probably—we all have history with each other. We were friends once. That has to count for something.

Doesn’t it?

But they liked my father once too, and that didn’t stop several bullets from ending his life today. I don’t know whether the bullets came from one of these men’s guns or from the other group of attackers, but it doesn’t really matter. I don’t doubt that if Hale had the chance, he would’ve put a bullet between Dad’s eyes.

Dad.

My heart cracks at the memory of his face, of him slicking back his hair at the church. A small part of me feels like I’m already betraying him. He’s dead, and I don’t even know where he is, whether his body has been identified. If funeral arrangements are being made. The police have probably already swarmed and swept the church, knowing that I’m missing and suspecting criminal activity. At this point, I don’t know if one of the groups took his body as ransom or simply a souvenir, or if he’s being held in some cold morgue.

Was my dad up to something?

The thought never crossed my mind until today. I was sure my father had put that life behind him for good. That he was done with it.

Nothing makes sense right now, and I’m not going to try to figure it out. Because what I do know for certain is that my focus needs to be on finding an escape. Where to, I’m not sure, but I can’t think long term right now. I simply need to find a way out of this place, away from these dangerous, fucked up men.

A thought forms in my mind as I glance to the closed door, wondering if Zaid is still sitting guard like the dutiful little watchdog he is.

He’s just one man. I have better odds against him than against all four of them.

Especially if I can get him to let his guard down.

“Zaid…” I call out, my voice hoarse.

I’m met with only silence. The door doesn’t open, and I hear no footsteps in the hall. I’m not quite sure what I’m going to do if I actually get him in here, but I have to try.

“Zaid?”

I think I hear a shuffle outside of the room, and sure enough, the door clicks open a second later. I do my best to shift my mindset, to remind myself of the way I used to think of this man—to see him as that person instead of as a dangerous enemy. I have to, if I’m going to pull off the role I need to play.

My pulse races when his green gaze settles on my prone body. Unconsciously, I strain my wrists against the ties.

I swallow, forcing the words past my throat and trying to sound as pitiful as possible. It doesn’t take much effort. “I… I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Looks like you’ll have to piss on the bed, kitten.”

He turns on his heels to leave, and panic surges inside me. I can’t let him walk through that door. If he leaves the room, my chance to escape goes with him. I have to keep him here. I have to convince him to untie these fucking ropes.

“Zaid.”