Luck of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #2)(10)

“What the hell did you do to her?” I demand.

“I told her some of the truth.” He laughs, but clearly he’s the only person who thinks there’s a damn thing funny about this situation. “Isn’t that right, my dear? Why don’t you tell Forge how upset you were when you found out he lied about your sister’s rescue to get you to marry him?”

“Why should I believe either of you?”

When India finally looks directly at me, I realize something’s very wrong. Her blue eyes are nearly solid black from her completely blown pupils.

“What the fuck did you give her?” I jab the gun into de Vere’s chest where his shirt hangs open.

“Whoa . . .” India stands with her arms out to the side for balance, and sways back and forth like she’s on the deck of a ship sailing through a gale. She blinks a few times before rubbing her hands down her face. “I’m fucked up.”

“Goliath. Cover de Vere.” I hear a grunt from out in the living room, and I hope it means Mickey has been restrained.

Goliath trains his gun on de Vere, and I reach out for India.

“Come here. I got you.” I hold out my left hand, but she zeroes in on the pistol in my right.

“I don’t like guns.” Her words come out slurred.

De Vere snorts a laugh and then grunts, telling me Goliath probably shut him up.

As soon as the gun is out of sight, Indy takes another step and I catch her in my arms. I do a quick rundown before pulling her into my side to support her unsteady legs.

Flushed. Body temp higher than normal. Pupils blown. She’s rolling.

I look to de Vere. “Molly? Ecstasy? Some other party drug you cooked up?”

“Nothing she hasn’t had before, I’m sure,” de Vere says, his tone mocking.

India’s arm slides around my back, and her face presses against my jacket. “This is soft. Really soft.” She rubs her cheek along the Italian linen like a kitten with a silky blanket.

“She’ll be fine in a few hours,” de Vere says, and my gaze snaps to his. “At least, until she starts asking you who her father is and why you’d marry her without a prenup. When you tell her that she’s the daughter of—”

“I don’t have a father,” Indy says as she buries her face in my jacket. “I never have. Never will. And I don’t want to hear another goddamned thing about it. Fuck him. Fuck you. Fuck everyone.”

Goliath presses the barrel of his gun to de Vere’s temple.

“You heard her. She doesn’t want to hear a fucking thing you have to say.”

De Vere’s leer fades to a grimace. “She’ll find out the truth eventually. Even if you have your henchman end me right now. Which you won’t. Because you can’t even give the order to pull the fucking trigger.”

Blood pounds in my temple, and my jaw clenches. More than anything, I want to pull the gun from where I shoved it and squeeze the trigger until every round is buried in de Vere’s body. But he’s right about one thing—I won’t give Goliath the order to do it. De Vere’s death belongs to me. For Isaac. For his vengeance. For my own fucking peace.

“I don’t like guns.” India tugs away from my body, and de Vere’s smug laughter echoes off the walls of the room.

Against every single instinct I have, I nod to Goliath to lower his gun. It’s not like he can’t keep de Vere in line just as easily without one.

I pull Indy tighter against me, but she continues to struggle. “It’s gone. No more guns.” Only when I say the words does she stop fighting me.

De Vere’s frozen stare rakes over where I hold her in my arms. “You might have her now, but you’ll never be able to keep her.” He pauses to straighten his shirt. “But then again, that was never the plan, was it, Forge? You’re going to get what you need from Indy’s rich daddy and pay her off well enough that you never have to see her again. I bet you have it all planned out.”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

“Or what? You’re going to shoot me? You’re not man enough. Just like you’re not man enough to tell her the truth. But don’t worry. She’ll find out soon enough.”

De Vere’s lips stretch into a mocking smile.

“Indy wouldn’t listen today, but when she learns for herself, she’s going to walk away and fuck up every one of your plans. I can’t wait to watch her leave you and take your money with her. Should’ve had her sign a prenup . . . but we both know why you didn’t.”





9





India





Prenup. Prenup. Prenup.

The word beats in my head, and I know I should ask why I didn’t sign one, but I’m too entertained by rubbing my face against Forge’s suit.

Lights and colors swirl in my brain as I let my eyes close again. “It’s bright.”

As soon as I speak, Forge stiffens. “Keep your eyes closed. We’re leaving right now. I’m picking you up.”

I do as he says, enjoying the light show in my mind much more than the harsh glare of sunlight coming from the other room, but my head spins as he lifts me off the floor.

“Whoa. Whoa.” I wrap my arms around his neck for stability.