Page 84 of Stroke of Shadows
Phantom pain seared through his arm, but he ignored it as he watched Cruz try to scramble away. Instead, he pulled him into a stall, holding his head above the toilet.
“I’ll only give you this warning once, so listen up.” Sythe kneeled, keeping his grip right on Cruz, who was breathing heavily. “If you go near Harper again, I’ll kill you.” To emphasise his point, Sythe shoved Cruz’s head into the water, holding him under for ten seconds before bringing him back out.
Cruz spluttered, his eyes scrunched closed and face smeared with blood.
“If you ever so much as look at her. Think about her, I’ll make sure they can hear your screams for miles. Do you understand?”
Cruz tried to nod, his mouth gasping like a fish.
“Good.” Sythe shoved Cruz’s head once more, knocking it hard enough against the side of the porcelain toilet that it cracked. Cruz went limp, and Sythe had to peel his fingers away. He wanted to kill him, to watch the light drain from his eyes. The only reason he didn’t was because Sythe had a job to do, and killing Cruz would only complicate things for Harper.
Because he’d decided.
Harper was his.
It didn’t matter that they’d started on a lie. That they lived different lives, or that she was the niece of the man he planned to destroy. He knew everything had changed the instant he didn’t give her over to Wyatt himself, gaining favour for finding the rat. He didn’t care who he hurt or killed as long as he succeeded in his mission.
But the idea of turning Harper over sent pure, undiluted rage through him.
He didn’t care about his mission. Didn’t care about Angel or Wyatt. Not even Gideon or fucking Bishop.
Nothing mattered but her.
Which meant he was beyond fucked, because he was about to give everything up for a woman who didn’t even know his real name.
Chapter 29
Harper
Everything was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do.
The tears had dried, her cheek aching from where she’d been hit. She’d fooled herself into believing her uncle had ever cared about her. That his show of love was different to others, even if she knew deep down that it was all just a fantasy. She’d lost herself, doing everything he asked without objection for fear of being punished. She’d always known he was cruel, but she didn’t want to believe he allowed her to be abused. Raped.
Wyatt had never hidden his disdain, and Angel knew his son had shared her like a piece of meat. His own niece.
It seemed she’d forgotten that Angel only saw her as an object. Something to manipulate. Years, she’d hidden that secret, terrified if he found out he’d kill her. Instead, he’d not only known, but encouraged it.
Harper wondered if her mother fought harder, or like her, she’d simply accepted her fate. She barely knew her parents, her mum dying when she was two, and her dad at around five. She remembered blurred memories and hushed whispers. Soft kisses and gentle laughter. She just about remembered the before, when the house was alight with warmth and comfort, and then after. It was the after that had shaped her. That had made her into who she was, a coward. Weak. Alone.
Harper’s fingers curled into her palms. She was in limbo. Waiting until Angel felt she was no longer useful.
Detective Shawl wanted more evidence, and that was exactly what Harper was going to do. She’d accept everything Angel threw at her, whether that was finding him more collectables or marrying Cruz. She’d do it without argument, and maybe, one day, she’ll be able to watch him be sentenced to life for his crimes. And then she would be free.
Maybe.
You’re nothing but a whore.
Wyatt’s threatening texts filled her screen.
Do you honestly think running away to the Crows will keep you from me?
Find me the chalice, or I’ll take you to the warehouse as a gift to the boys. We both know how you liked it last time.
Harper clicked off his text, a tightness to her chest when she opened up the rest of her messages. She scrolled until she found the conversation with Thea.
BurnBabyBurn69
I’ve got it. Just give me a drop off time and date and it’s yours.