Chapter 4 - The Shadow of BrendanTwo hours after Jared left with Miles and a convoy of six black SUVs, the storm outside turned into a full-scale hurricane.
Rain lashed against the penthouse glass with deafening force. Lightning cracked across the dark sky, illuminating the empty living room in eerie flashes of blue light.
I sat on the rug beside Titan, who was resting quietly after the charcoal treatment. His pulse was steady, his eyes clear. The poison had been stopped in time. But my own chest was tight with an agonizing sense of dread.
It was a trap.
My gut had been screaming it since Jared walked out the door. Lucian Vance was too smart to simply leave a poisoned bottle behind without expecting us to find it. He wanted Jared away from the penthouse. He wanted the security detail split.
Suddenly, the lights inside the penthouse flickered once... twice... and plunged into pitch darkness.
Titan instantly let out a deep, chest-vibrating growl. He pushed himself to his feet, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me in the dark.
The heavy emergency backup lights didn't turn on.
"Marcus?" I called out toward the corridor.
No answer.
Only the sound of rain, and then—the distinct, sharp sound of shattering glass from the private elevator foyer.
CRACK!
Titan charged toward the hallway, his silver coat bristling, his deep barks echoing like cannon fire off the walls.
"Titan, stay!" I screamed, pulling a heavy brass floor lamp off its base to use as a weapon.
Footsteps rushed down the corridor. Heavy tactical boots mixed with light, hurried strides.
"Clear the rooms!" a voice barked in the dark. "Vance wants the girl alive! Kill the dog!"
Three men in dark clothing flooded into the living room, their flashlight beams cutting through the gloom.
Titan lunged without hesitation.
Even weakened, a hundred and eighty pounds of protective Mastiff is a terrifying force of nature. Titan slammed into the lead mercenary, his massive jaws locking onto the man's tactical vest, dragging him to the floor with a terrifying roar.
"Shoot it! Shoot the dog!" the second man yelled, raising a suppressed pistol.
"No!" I screamed.
I swung the brass lamp base with all the strength in my body, striking the second mercenary across the side of his head. He staggered back, cursing as blood welled from his ear.
Before I could swing again, a third pair of hands grabbed me from behind.
A thick, leather-gloved arm locked around my neck, dragging me backward against a hard chest. The smell of cheap cologne, wet tobacco, and stale sweat hit my nose—a smell that had haunted my nightmares for two years.
"Gotcha, little bird," a cruel, familiar voice whispered into my ear.
My heart stopped. "Brendan..."
"Did you really think you could run from me, Willa?" Brendan laughed, his grip tightening around my throat until air became a luxury. "Cleaning floors in Brooklyn, sleeping in a mobster's penthouse? You always were a ungrateful bitch. I spent six months looking for you!"
"Get... off... me!" I choked out, stomping my heel down onto his foot with everything I had.
Brendan grunted in pain, but he didn't let go. He slapped me across the face with his open hand, the force sending sparks flying across my vision. I hit the floor hard, my cheek burning.
Titan let out an enraged roar, dropping the mercenary he was pinning and turning toward Brendan.
"Shoot it!" Brendan screamed, scrambling back toward the broken glass doors.
The bleeding mercenary leveled his weapon straight at Titan's chest.
BANG!
A gunshot exploded through the room—but it didn't come from the mercenary's gun.
The mercenary's head snapped back, and he collapsed onto the marble floor like a sack of stones.
From the shattered private elevator bay stepped a figure drenched in rain, holding a long-barreled tactical pistol wrapped in smoke.
Jared.
His suit jacket was gone. His white shirt was covered in road grime and rain. His gray eyes were glowing with a feral, terrifying madness. Behind him came Miles and four heavy enforcers, sweeping into the room like a tidal wave of death.
"Jared!" I cried out from the floor.
Brendan froze, his face draining of all color as he looked at the king of the New York underworld standing ten feet away from him.
"You..." Brendan stuttered, grabbing my arm and pulling me up in front of him as a human shield, pressing a pocket knife against my throat. "Stay back! Stay back or I'll cut her! She's my girlfriend! She belongs to me!"
Jared didn't stop walking.
He didn't slow down. He didn't offer a compromise. He walked straight toward Brendan, his heavy boots stepping right over the dead mercenary's body.
"Jared, he has a knife!" I warned, my voice hoarse.
"Let me tell you something, Brendan," Jared said, his voice terrifyingly calm, devoid of any human warmth. "You made three mistakes tonight."
Jared took another step forward. Brendan's hand was shaking so violently the knife clicked against my skin.
"First," Jared continued, "you came into my home."
Step.
"Second, you put your hands on my dog."
Step.
"And third..." Jared stopped two feet away. His eyes locked onto Brendan's trembling face. "...you thought you could own something that belongs to the sky."
Before Brendan could react, Jared moved faster than humanly possible.
He didn't shoot. He grabbed Brendan's wrist with his left hand, twisting it upward until the bone snapped with a sickening CRACK!
Brendan screamed in agony, dropping the knife.
Jared grabbed Brendan by the throat, lifting the grown man off his feet with a single, muscular arm, slamming him violently against the floor-to-ceiling glass wall overlooking Manhattan. The reinforced glass cracked under the impact.
"Jared, no!" I yelled, pulling on his arm. "Don't kill him like this!"
Jared held Brendan suspended over the three-hundred-foot drop, his fingers crushing Brendan's windpipe. Brendan's eyes were bulging, his hands frantically slapping at Jared's iron grip.
Jared looked back at me, his gray eyes wild and dark. "He hurt you, Willa."
"If you throw him off this balcony, you become the monster he tried to make me believe everyone is!" I pleaded, tears spilling down my cheeks as I placed my hand over Jared's cheek. "Please. Look at me, Jared. Look at me."
Jared's chest heaved. He stared into my eyes, the wild fire in his gaze slowly settling into a deep, smoldering ember.
Slowly, Jared pulled Brendan back from the glass, tossing him onto the floor at Miles's feet like a piece of trash.
"Take him to the basement," Jared ordered Miles softly. "Turn him over to the federal authorities along with the evidence connecting him to Lucian Vance. Let him spend the rest of his life in a maximum-security cage."
"Yes, boss," Miles said, dragging the weeping, broken Brendan out of the room.
The remaining guards swept the floor, clearing the bodies and securing the perimeter.
The penthouse fell quiet once more, save for the hum of the rain.
Jared stood in the center of the dark living room, his breathing heavy, his hands covered in dirt and blood.
I walked over to him softly. Without saying a word, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my forehead against his wet chest.
Jared froze for a fraction of a second, shocked by the gesture. Then, his heavy arms wrapped securely around me, pulling me flush against his body, burying his face in the crook of my neck.
Titan walked over, resting his massive silver head against both of our knees.
May you like
"I thought I lost you," Jared whispered into my hair, his voice trembling for the first time since I had met him. "When Vance's men staged that fake meeting at the warehouse... I realized it was a distraction. I drove back like a madman."
"I'm here," I murmured, holding him tighter. "We're both here."
