Grievous (Scarlet Scars #2)(51)

Kassian raises up when I say that, towering over me. I glare at him in the darkness, refusing to back down, refusing to look away.

“Hate me all you want,” he says. “I do not mind. But until you love me again, suka, until you finally learn your place, you will stay right where you are. So it is in your best interest, I think, to just give in... especially since being with your kitten requires getting out of here.”

He walks away, snatching up his phone as he goes. I hear his shoes on the creaky wooden stairs leading out of the basement, into his office, light basting through as the door opens, music assaulting my ears.

I squeeze my eyes shut, to block it out, before everything around me grows dark again.

There are at least a dozen locks on the basement door, all of which only he has the keys to open. The odds are slim of getting out of here without his blessing, which brings me to a crippling realization.

“And she never saw her daughter again,” I whisper to myself. “The end.”





Chapter Twelve





Remember back at the beginning of this all when I told you to listen to your intuition? Your thoughts can’t be trusted and your heart will fucking betray you, but your gut is one tough son of a bitch. It always senses when something is happening.

You just have to pay attention.

“The gate’s open.”

Seven puts my car in park and cuts the engine, pulling the keys from the ignition before turning to me, his brow furrowed. “What did you say, boss?”

I motion out the passenger side window, toward the unlatched gate on the picket fence, before repeating myself. “The gate’s open.”

“I see that,” he says, his voice hesitant. “Does that mean something?”

“It means someone came or went in a hurry.”

Getting out of the car, I head toward the house, walking right through the open gate on my way to the small porch. All seems quiet and still. The front door is unlocked, but fuck, isn’t it always?

I certainly never lock it.

Seven follows me, latching the gate as he comes, right on my heels as I step into the house. I glance around, that bad feeling stirring inside of me, rising up like my gut is pulling a fucking mutiny. There, on the floor in the hallway, is a pair of familiar red high heels, toppled over, like someone kicked them off while running.

Deja vu.

“Scarlet?” I call out, my voice so loud it echoes through the house. “You here?”

No answer.

I know she gave those shoes to my brother’s girlfriend, but last time I saw them hastily discarded, Scarlet was in trouble. Yeah, whatever, the trouble back then was me, but that little fact does nothing to pacify my bad feeling.

“Check upstairs,” I tell Seven as I reach beneath my shirt, grabbing my gun. “See if anyone’s here.”

He hits the stairs, no question, no argument, heading off to search the house.

I walk down the hall, stepping over the shoes along the way. The living room and my library are both empty, nothing out of place. Reaching the kitchen, I pause, seeing the back door standing wide open.

Someone ran out of here in a hurry.

I hear Seven approach after a moment, stalling beside me, his eyes fixed on the open back door as he says, “The house is clear, nobody home.”

Shit.

Is it too much to ask for her to have just been asleep?

Shoving my gun away, I search through my pockets for my phone.

“Here,” Seven says, retrieving it, handing it over, knowing exactly what I’m looking for.

I hit a few buttons, calling my brother’s number, listening as it rings and rings and rings. No answer. I call his work next, being greeted warmly by the hostess.

“Can you tell me if Leo Accardi is there?”

“Uh, yes, sir,” she says. “He’s actually just leaving. Would you like to speak to him?”

“No, but can you pass a message to him for me?”

“Sure.”

“Tell him his brother said to hurry home.”

I hang up, glancing at Seven, who looks anxious. Not good. I scan through my phone for Melody’s number. I’ve never called it... never cared to call it... but I saved it for a rainy day.

Guess it’s raining on me, huh?

I hit the button, dialing it, instantly hearing the faintest ringtone of some old rap song coming from upstairs.

I hang up. The music stops.

“You sure she’s not up there?” I ask, knowing the answer before Seven even confirms it.

“Positive.”

My gaze scans the backyard briefly before I close the door, not sure what to do about this. Some bullshit equations are spinning around my head, putting two and two together again.

I don’t like what it’s adding up to.

Errrnnnttt, wrong fucking answer.

I go to walk out when my phone rings. Leo.

“Yeah?” I answer. “You on your way home?”

“Jesus, yes, what the hell is going on?” he asks. “I’ve got like forty missed calls from one of the neighbors, saying Mel showed up there freaking out about some man being at the house? Do you know anything about this? Lady tried to call the cops, but Mel made her call me.”

I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Which neighbor?”

“The blue house, like three doors down,” he says. “Mrs. McKinnon. You know, the elderly lady whose groceries I sometimes get?”