I glared. “Get out.”
He casually leaned up against the door, which was my only escape, and crossed his arms. “Kilter’s Rest ends tomorrow.” He spoke in his usual manner—calm, steady, and with as much emotion as a bloody lamppost. But what pissed me off was that every time he was near, my stomach whooshed and my knees weakened. “So, I’ll ask again, how is Rayne?”
No matter what he did or said, that feeling was always there. “She’s better. Gained weight. More confident. But, Tac, she doesn’t want anything to do with the Scars.”
“She may not have a choice. Word is a Grit from the compound is roaming the streets watching Rayne. He has yet to kill any humans, but we need to deal with him before he makes a move on her. I suspect it’s the same man you encountered at the Talde house months ago.”
“If I had to guess, yeah, it would be him.”
Waleron protected the Scars as if we were his lifeline. Actually, we were his lifeline. Screw with him and he’d retaliate, but he’d also sacrifice everything to save your ass. “She’s under our protection now. That means a Grit does not get near her.”
“I don’t think he wants to harm her,” I said, but it didn’t make sense. For years, the Grit had watched Rayne being used by her husband. Why hadn’t he done anything to stop it?
“Still, he must be dealt with. I’m uncertain whether he’s the one who is causing the unrest in the city, but I sense something and we need to find out what it is,” Waleron said.
And that could be why Liam had asked me to stay away from his penthouse for the past three nights. “Shit,” I muttered. The unrest was Liam. I wanted to tell Waleron about Abby, but he’d be obligated to tell the Wraiths and Trinity. That witch-bitch would raise hell.
“I called in Tye. Damien isn’t answering his phone or emails.” Oh shit. “We need to learn more about this Grit and the compound.”
“So you want to question Rayne?”
Waleron nodded. “We also have the issue of Kilter,” Waleron said. “He’ll be angry when he wakes from Rest.” Angry was an understatement. He’d be a volatile fireball who was going to cause serious damage. The question was to who. “And he’ll contact Rayne.”
I toyed with the sequins on the curved neckline of the dress. “She hasn’t mentioned him, but I don’t know. There was something between them.” I noticed Waleron’s eyes on my fingers as I fiddled with the dress and I quickly stopped.
His eyes met mine. “Rayne has become his way of redeeming his past. But he will fail.”
I wanted to retort ‘at least he is trying to redeem his past’—I didn’t. Instead, I turned and reached for my clothes piled on the bench. “We can question Rayne in a couple days, after the gala. Let her have one night of fun before we blow up her world again.” I held my clothes to my chest. “Now, can you get out?”
“Maitagarri,” he said in that low, husky voice.
I was about to fling my jeans at his head when Rayne said, “Delara. How’s the dress?”
“Shit,” I whispered, scowling at Waleron who didn’t seem the least bit concerned that he was in a woman’s change stall with me. “She’s coming, damn it. Go. Trace out of here.”
There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I think it’s time she met me.”
“What?” My eyes widened and I made a grab for his arm as he slid the latch and opened the door.
I sat on the old plaid lounge chair in the living room, legs parted, elbows resting on my thighs, hands holding my head as her haunting screams echoed over and over again. The chains… Jesus. I had no choice. But seeing her strain against them, her delicate wrists raw and bleeding—fuck. It ruined me.
Her pleading.
Her ravaged shouts.
Then the worst hit. Her desperate sobs that sent me to my knees beside the bed, begging her to stop.
But she didn’t.
The child was gone. The baby lost. To her. To me. To us.
My fingers gripped the roots of my hair, nails digging into my scalp. My insides hacksawed and strewn in every direction.
I was a fuckin’ Scar, and yet this I couldn’t handle.
I ran my hand down my ragged face. “Fuck this. Fuck it.” I kicked the leg of the small coffee table. It collapsed under the jarring pressure and magazines slipped to the floor.
“Damn it!” I kicked the offensive table again.
I’d been on the phone with Anstice half the night. Then resorted to threats if she didn’t come and help me. That was when Keir got on the phone and threatened me. He refused to allow Anstice anywhere near Abby. Shit, it wasn’t safe for anyone near Abby.
The blood.
The image would haunt me for a lifetime, and since I was immortal, that was a fuck of a long time. I was good with blood. I killed. I slit men’s throats and watched them bleed out.
But it was Abbs and it was our baby.
When she miscarried I’d run into the bathroom and threw up. Then I took out my cell and tapped in Anstice’s number, shouting.