Elijah had been watching me, his eyes shadowed.
I clenched my jaw. Fine. I jerked my head in a tight nod. “Let’s go.”
That was all Elijah needed. He was halfway out the door before he called over his shoulder, “I have weapons. You don’t need to grab any. I have enough.”
“Weapons,” Bri murmured to herself. Her head was bent, and she pressed her hands against her side. “Okay. Weapons. We can do this.” She started forward, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“You don’t have to do this.” Please, don’t do this. “He has treated you like shit for years. You really don’t have to go.”
Her hand paused in the air and closed over mine. She gave me a reassuring nod. “I want to go. You’re going. Elijah’s going. And, yes, even my dick cousin—I care about all of you.” Her eyes were tracing my face as she softened her tone. “And I love you.” Her voice was a caress. She cupped the side of my face. “I love you.”
I leaned into her touch. It was tender, warm, and what I wanted to enjoy—not what we were about to do. “Bri…” Visions of locking her in a room, tying her to a chair, and finding something that resembled handcuffs all flashed in my mind. Anything to keep her from going with us. I had a bad feeling.
“What?”
I shook my head. She started to pull her hand away, but I caught it and held it there for another moment. We were going into a storm. Her touch would be the only shelter that would keep me going.
“Luke,” she whispered, moving close. “I know things are weird. I have no idea what the plan is for us, but I love you. I do. I’ve never stopped.”
My lips cracked a grin. “You’re telling me now?” I couldn’t do anything about it. All those same images of locking her in a room, tying her to a chair, and handcuffing her came tumbling back, but in an entirely different manner. “You’re making this so hard. I want you to stay here.”
“I can’t.” Her hand pressed against my face again. “You’re going. I’m going. That’s how it is.”
That was how it was. She meant those words, and they coursed through me. I felt every single one of them and drew in a new wave of strength. She was my woman. She said it right there. Fighting it was useless, because I’d keep coming back to her.
Her eyes were searching mine.
I pulled her close. A gleam of relief appeared in her eyes as her other hand grasped my shoulder. “I love you,” she whispered, her forehead resting against mine.
“I love you, too,” I whispered back. Framing her face with my hands on either side, I drank in the sight of her. Her eyes were sparkling, and her cheeks were pink. Her lips opened, and I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to pull her in and get lost in her.
“Hey,” Elijah called back, knocking on the wall. “Pepe and Penelope, get your stanky asses up here.” He pulled back and headed to his car, but we heard him say over his shoulder, “We have an idiot to rescue.”
This was nuts.
As Elijah drove to Brute’s house, I glanced over at Luke. I could feel the tension radiating off him. I knew he didn’t want me there, but he had to understand. I couldn’t stay back. I was there for him. I was there to make sure he walked out alive. What I said back at The Shack was how I felt. Where he went, I went. That resonated through me, more than anything now. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but if we all survived, I was going with him. I was going to be at his side, and I didn’t care about the logistics.
Elijah drove the car around the last turn and slowed to park. We were two blocks away from Brute’s house.
I was going to be at Luke’s side from now on, but we had to get through this first, I reminded myself.
We should’ve formulated a better plan. We should’ve thought of some way that didn’t include walking into Brute’s house, but as we got out and Elijah handed us each a weapon from his trunk, none of those things happened.
The street was quiet, and the air felt cold. I didn’t know what time it was. I didn’t know this street or if it was usually this quiet, but I felt it was odd. Brute didn’t live in a great neighborhood. The houses were old and most looked like they needed to be torn down, but a few had toys in the yard. There were abandoned tricycles and bikes on the sidewalk. A dog leash was left in one of the driveways. People lived here. Children played here. Pets were walked here. There should’ve been sounds of life around us, but unlike the last time we walked to Brute’s house, it was eerily silent.
As I glanced up at one house, I watched as a curtain fell back into place. A second house—the same thing. After the fourth house, I stopped looking. They were all watching. It was like they had known we were coming.
A chill went down my spine, and I gripped the knife in my pocket tighter. I walked shoulder to shoulder with Elijah and Luke as we made the two blocks to Brute’s house. Before getting there, Elijah cut down a back alley. Emerson was wearing a wire, so there were going to be cops around. Once we started down the alley, he ran ahead. We needed to get to the house before the cops could stop us. There were three houses between Brute’s and us. As we sped past the first house, a car turned down the alley from the other side.
“Come on.” Elijah picked up his pace.
The car kept coming.
We were at Brute’s fence, and Elijah launched himself over it. He opened the door just as the car approached us. I braced myself, not knowing what was next—if a bullet would hit us first or if we’d be thrown into the back of it and whisked away. Nothing happened. They slowed down, and a woman wearing a baseball cap pulled low looked at me. It was the cop who had taken me to the police station a year ago. She met my gaze. A warning was in hers, and her lips were turned down.
I was grabbed and pulled into the back lawn.