Page 42 of Sweet Revenge
I scratched my head. “But you have so many safe houses, and you didn’t even tell them which one he’s at. I guess it doesn’t matter if you don’t want them to do anything, but you do want them to do something, right?” Despite my conviction that it wasn’t my business, I found myself asking, “How is this a trap?”
“It’s pretty simple, baby,” he said, not like I was an idiot but like he had information I didn’t. “Each of my brothers only knows about one of the safe houses we rigged. So whichever one of those safe houses gets some activity, I’ll know which brother it is, even if they send someone else, rather than trying to intervene themselves.”
“Oh, right.” That did make more sense. I nodded and went over it again in my mind, still wondering which of his brothers could do something so low.
“I’m hoping that it’s not actually one of my brothers but that one of their phones is compromised or something of that nature,” Daemon continued.
I smiled at him, but both of us were pretty sure that he’d been ratted out by someone he trusted. It sucked, but that was the life we lived. I’d definitely been screwed over by my own family members before. My nose burned just thinking about it.
“So we rigged all three safe houses so that you’d know for sure who did it, even if they send someone like they did last time when it was Raven that came after us.” I was pretty sure I had it straight now. “God, you’re a fucking genius.” I ran my hand down his leg.
He caught my fingers and gave them a squeeze. Obviously, now was not the time for distractions. “Thanks, babe. That’s right. The location will clue me into who is stabbing me in the back, even if the person who shows up there doesn’t.”
Nodding, I leaned back on the couch, still holding his hand. I tried to imagine how he would feel when he figured out which brother it was, and it made my stomach twist into a knot. “I hope no one shows up,” I whispered. “Being betrayed by your family is the worst.”
Daemon lifted his free hand to brush my hair over my shoulder. The feel of his touch as he grazed my cheek sent a shiver down my spine. He could always turn me on, no matter what we were doing. “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all of that. I can’t imagine any of the three of them betraying me, but sometimes you just don’t know what people are capable of until they act.”
“That’s for damn sure.” Once again, I found myself thinking about my father torturing me. A mix of anger and sadness welled up inside me. But I refused to cry. Every time I thought about how cruel he could be to me, I pictured myself as a little girl who wanted, more than anything, to win her father’s approval and love. She never got it, and neither did I.
Daemon had set up the cameras in the safe houses to relay live video back to monitors he had set up in the bedroom. With the texts sent, and no responses, as instructed, we moved in there. We sat down next to one another at a desk—and waited.
It wasn’t exactly the most entertaining movie night, but we did munch on some popcorn as we watched bugs flutter around one of the porch lights. Nothing moved on the other cameras, especially not the interior ones for hours.
And then something did.
A dark figure appeared on one of the monitors. At first, I could barely process that it was real since I’d been staring at nothing for so long, but then, it became apparent that a person was poking around outside of the fences of one of the safe houses.
All the blinds and curtains were closed tightly so no one could see the houses were empty. We’d left lights on in each of the houses on purpose so that we could better tell who the culprit was and also to fool them into thinking someone was inside.
When the person hopped over the back fence, dressed all in black, he was so stealthy, it was hard to follow him in the shadows. He headed straight for the back door and slid it open, not seeming at all surprised that it was unlocked.
I looked at Daemon for a moment, trying to figure out why that hadn’t been a red flag that something was going on in the backstabber’s mind and to see if he knew who it was, but he was leaning in close to the screen, eyes focused, jaw set.
He was angry, but he was also ready to pounce.
“Daemon?” I whispered. He didn’t turn to look at me. “Do you know who it is?”
Slowly he nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah. I don’t need to see the face beneath that black ski mask to know who it is. I’ve watched those mannerisms, those quick, coordinated movements since we were little kids. Son of a bitch.”
I swallowed hard, giving him a moment to process. I didn’t know what the next step in the plan was, but I imagined this criminal was talented enough to ascertain pretty quickly that the house was empty. I had no idea what Daemon was going to do. Would he let him go and confront him another way? Or did he have more to his trap than I was aware of?
On the cameras, I watched the intruder slink through the kitchen into the living room. Then, I shifted my attention to the camera hanging in there. He spun around a few times, like he wasn’t sure what was happening. At one point, he raised his head and looked right at the camera.
Daemon’s countenance changed again. Gone was the sad individual who hadn’t been able to believe that someone he trusted would sink so low as to send in an assassin to knock the both of us off. Now, the man I cared so much for was simply pissed.
With a deep breath, Daemon pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his security app. He’d already told me that he could control the security in all of his safe houses and other locations he owned from this one app. He swiped a few times to find the right house. Then, he pressed one button that sent the intruder into a tailspin.
A calm female voice in the house said, “Initiating lockdown mode.” The lights in the house all started flashing as an alarm went off. It wasn’t so loud that it would bother the neighbors since the homes were so spread out there, but it was clearly loud enough to send the intruder into panic mode.
Just as quickly as he’d leaped that fence, he ran to the closest window and tried to throw it open. It wouldn’t budge. He grabbed a wooden chair sitting nearby and flung it at the glass, but it wouldn’t budge. Frantic, he threw his hands up in the air and spun around again before running toward the front door.
Of course, that was locked, too. We watched him run from room to room in the small safe house, trying every window, every door, even banging on the walls like they might somehow open up or signal a secret trapdoor that he could slide through.
Nothing he tried worked. He was caged like an animal. A switch seemed to flip, and for a moment, I thought maybe he’d accept his fate and calm down, but rather than simmering down, his fury ramped up even more. He picked up more furniture and flung it at windows, ran to the kitchen looking for tools to pry the door open, and did everything he could to get out of there.
I wondered if maybe it was the sound of the alarm that had done that to him, but when I looked at Daemon’s face, I realized that wasn’t it at all.
His brother was trying to get out of there before Daemon showed up because he knew he was a dead man.