“My father was a great man!” Cyril snarled through clenched teeth. “He was a loving father and a good husband and he—”
“Died begging for his life!” Killian interjected with a snarl. “He was a coward. He was a murderer, a rapist, and a coward. You might have turned him into a martyr to justify the things you have done, but you could have been better. I had hoped you would be better.” Dark eyes snapped over and found Juliette’s. They exchanged silent glances for a full minute before he faced Cyril once more. “I would like nothing better than to kill you. The world is a horrible enough place without you in it. Fortunately for you, Juliette has appointed herself the savior of my soul and she has asked me to let you live. So, I will. For now. But you will not leave this ship in one piece—” He ignored Juliette squeak of protest. “—not even Juliette will save you there. It will be the sort of pain you cannot even imagine. I can promise that. I will make sure you regret ever touching her and when I am done, I will dedicate my life to watching your every move very closely. If I get so much as a whisper of something I don’t like, I will personally put a bullet through your head. Do you understand?”
The frothing fury swirling around Cyril crackled like livewires, but it was splintered with fear. Sparks flashed across his eyes and the look on his face was sheer rage in its purest form.
“Tamed,” he hissed around a disgusted curl of his lips. “The great Killian McClary, the Scarlet Wolf, the monster everyone speaks of in hushed whispers, tamed by his bitch. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. You are weak and so long as you are, your kingdom will crumble down around you while you lay dying amongst the rubble. I might not be the one to end you, but I will relish the day you die.”
Juliette didn’t know what possessed her. Maybe it was being tortured for the last several weeks. Maybe it was being called a bitch, or maybe it was just to shut him up, but she was marching forward before she knew it. Her arm snapped back and she drove five balled fingers of hatred straight into the delicate line of his slender jaw. The impact sang up her arm in a flurry of pain, but the snap of his teeth, the crack of his neck as his head flew back was a sound she would bask in for a very long time. He crashed to the floor with a weak cry. Fresh blood welled over his puffy lip and dribbled down his chin and she hoped she’d broken a few of his teeth.
“That’s for Molly,” she decided. “And this…” She pulled back her leg and let it swing forward with all her strength behind it right between his legs. The sound he made was one of air being let out of a balloon. His entire face went a frightening shade of purple and red as he curled onto his side, clutching his gut. In that state, he was neither beautiful nor regal. He was pathetic. “That’s for Maraveet.”
Satisfied, she turned and hurried back to the patio doors, so ready to get the hell off that stupid boat. Arlo, Frank, and Killian watched her as she joined them. Arlo’s gun wielding arm dropped down to his side now that there was no one to point it at. His expression was something between amused and impressed. Frank had no expression at all, but his eyes did twinkle, which made her feel good. Killian simply met her gaze, the dark fire in his eyes shot through with a liquid heat she recognized as arousal. She said nothing to any of them as she hurried out onto the deck.
The cold predawn air clawed at her, licking at the sweat dampening her skin and making her shiver. It had begun to snow, adding a fresh layer across the city. She breathed it in, letting the cruel fingers of winter burn into all her exposed skin and become a reminder that she’d made it. That Cyril had been wrong. That she wasn’t weak. The world of shadows and darkness hadn’t claimed her. She had fought and won. It was the greatest victory a person could ever accomplish and she had done it. Granted, not alone, but she had survived. More importantly, she hadn’t given up.
There was an almost skip to her steps as she hurried down the frozen plank onto the docks. Her boots thumped as she ran down the path in the direction of the lights ahead. It was far, but she didn’t stop. She pumped her legs and let the cold cut into her lungs like serrated shards of glass. The wood ended on icy dirt running alongside the frozen river. She ducked beneath a series of broken beams that had once been a bridge and kept running until she was at the incline leading up to a parking lot filled with cars and lights and voices.
“Miss Romero!” John jogged over to her, his coat flapping in the night like wings.
Juliette laughed and hurried to meet him halfway. She hugged him. She didn’t care that he tensed all over as though she’d suddenly grown a second head and tried to eat him. He was a sight for sore eyes.
He patted her awkwardly on the back before carefully detaching and taking a step away.
“It’s good to see you,” he said.
Juliette smiled. “Thank you for finding us.”
He looked away. “Didn’t do overly much, ma’am. But we’re glad you’re safe.”
“We?”
He stepped aside to reveal the other five figures silhouette against the headlights of a parked SUV. The sight of her little group brought tears to her eyes. It tightened the muscles of her throat until she couldn’t breathe. John took her elbow gently and guided her forward.
“You guys came.” The words came out in a strangled croak.
“Just doing our duty, ma’am,” Tyson murmured.
She embraced each of them in turn before stepping back and smiling sheepishly at their uncomfortable shifting.
“Thank you.”
There were nods, but no one spoke.
Jake finally stepped forward. “We have been given orders to take you to the hospital.”
Juliette didn’t protest. Going to the hospital was all part of the plan. It was where she needed to be if she was to save Killian and put Cyril behind bars. She let herself be guided to the SUV and helped inside the cozy interior. Jake climbed in behind the wheel while Melton claimed the passenger’s seat. John and Tyson squeezed in on either side of Juliette, flagging her. She wasn’t sure where Javier and Laurence went off to, but she suspected to get a second SUV to follow them.
Juliette relaxed against the warm leather. “Where’s Maraveet?”
“Miss Árnason insisted she be taken to the hospital,” Tyson answered.
Good! Juliette thought. Step one was complete.
“Where’s my sister? Has anyone checked on her? Is she all right?”
“Miss Romero will meet us at the hospital,” Jake assured her. “She’s been informed of your safe recovery and is on her way with Phil.”
Juliette exhaled. She lay her head back and closed her eyes.
It was over. It was finally over.
Chapter 29
Killian didn’t care what anyone said, hospitals were portals into limbo. It was the place tormented souls went to wait and wither to nothing. It was the place run by Satan and his white clad minions with their needles and sour faces. The whole lot of them made him want to strangle somebody, quite possibly the pissy little nurse who kept telling him to please wait. If he heard those two words one more time, he might forget his promise to Juliette not to commit anymore murders.
Square slabs of moonlight punched into the speckled linoleum between his feet. The brightness made his eyes water, but he continued to sit hunched over, elbows braced on his knees to study the glow. Around him, people went about their business, rushing in the way only people in the hospital did, with hurried strides and set faces. No one gave him a second glance. Overhead, some woman kept buzzing doctors to this room or that in a dry monotone drawl that grated on his nerves. Then there was the god awful stench of floor cleaner, antiseptic and misery. The latter was oddly the worst. It seemed to be pouring from the ceiling and oozing down the walls. Yet, he remained. He sat waiting for the elusive and possibly invisible doctor to finish twiddling his thumbs long enough to tell Killian Maraveet’s status. It had been hours and not a single person had gone in or out of those doors. Were they all taking a coffee break together?