The Sacrifice: Chapter 40

I’m sitting in my office talking to Ryat on my cell when my office phone rings. “I’ll call you back,” I tell him, and answer the other call on speakerphone.

“Fight broke out,” Beau rushes out and I sit up straighter, grabbing the remote and turning the cameras on. I’ve had the old surveillance on of the girl the night she was here while talking to Ryat. “Get to the basement. Laikyn is hurt. Colton—”

I hang up and am already running out of my office. I take the stairs all the way to the first floor and storm down to the basement. “What the fuck happened?” I demand as I enter.

“A fight broke out,” Colton answers, laying Lake down on the metal slab we use as a table. “She’s been stabbed.”

I look over the knife that is still in her right side.

“Fuck,” Alex hisses, entering as well.

“Call Gavin,” I order to Colton, then turn to grab a hold of Alex. I slam his back into the wall, getting in his face. “Go back upstairs. Close the club down. Every door locked. Have the employees shuffle those who weren’t involved out the back door one at a time. But every motherfucker that was involved in the fight stays. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” He nods quickly.

“Go.” I shove him toward the door, and he runs out, closing it behind him.

“Gavin is on his way,” Colt states, pocketing his cell.

“Ty-son.” Comes her small voice.

I rush over to the table where Lake lays. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

Her shaky hands go to her side and her watery eyes widen when she sees the knife. She grabs a hold of the handle.

“No!” Colton and I both shout. I wrap my fingers around her wrist and force her to let go. I shove them above her head and Colt takes over, pinning them to my surface.

She arches her back and starts to cry.

“Hey.” I grip her face with my now bloody hands. “Look at me, Lake.”

Her watery eyes find mine. “We can’t remove it. Not yet.” Too risky. She can bleed out and I won’t let that happen. I reach up and rip the thin material of her leotard, down the center, gently removing it around the knife. Then I yank off my own shirt and wrap it around the knife, trying to apply pressure the best I can without pushing it in deeper.

She arches her back, mouth opening wide, and screams. It makes my chest tighten, listening to her. “I know, Lake. I know.”

“Ple-ase.” She begins to sob while Colt continues to pin her arms down to the table above her head. “Pull it out,” she cries, and starts to kick her legs, making me wiggle the knife which just makes her scream again.

“Goddammit,” I hiss. “Lake, you have to—”

“Take it out. Take it out,” she sobs.

“She’s making it worse.” Colton growls the obvious.

Letting go of it for just a second, I jump up onto the table and sit on her thighs, pinning them down underneath me. And my hands grip her upper arms, holding them down. “In the safe.” I nod to it back in the corner.

Colton lets go of her wrists and runs over to it. I tell him the code and he opens it. “Black box. Bottom shelf.”

He yanks it out and pops it open, immediately understanding what I’m saying. Pulling the syringe out, he holds up the vile of clear liquid and fills the syringe.

She catches sight of what he’s doing, and her wide eyes meet mine. “No, Tyson. Please.” Her body thrashes on the table. “You promised me,” she cries. “You promised you wouldn’t drug me.”

“Hurry up,” I shout at Colton. Technically, I never said I wouldn’t. I just said I wasn’t going to.

He tosses the vile to the floor and it breaks as he rushes back over to us. Gripping her face, he pushes it to the side and plunges the needle into her neck. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and her body goes slack instantly.

Letting go of her arms, I place my hands back on the knife, trying to control the bleeding.

I get off the elevator and step out into the club, looking around. The lights are now on. The club shut down. Colton, Finn, Alex, and Jenks stand by the bar. Some of my cocktail servers sit at a table. My bartenders are behind the main bar and my four security men stand next to it.

“How many?” I ask.

“Six total.” Alex is the one who answers.

Six people were injured during the fight in some way. “How many were employees?”

“Two, but only one went for medical treatment,” Colton responds.

I nod. I was told that Bethany has a broken arm and Starla drove her to the hospital. My wife was stabbed, but she did not go to the hospital. The last thing I want is her out in public. I want this to remain as secretive as possible. The less that know, the better. She’s upstairs in our apartment with Gavin right now.

Turning, I make my way toward the basement, and I hear them following behind me. Pushing open the door, I take the stairs to find a guy on his knees, hands cuffed behind his back and head down. When he hears me, he jumps to his feet.

I pause, my eyes going over to the table my wife was laying on just hours ago. It’s still covered in her blood. And her torn leotard lays ripped on the floor. “What happened?” I’ll give him one chance to explain why my wife got stabbed tonight.

“Tyson.” His wide eyes go from mine to the guys behind me when they join us. “I didn’t do this. I promise. I didn’t know…”

I raise my hand and he stops rambling. “Who was here with you tonight?” I ask a different question.

By the time Gavin arrived and we got Lake up to our apartment, most of the guys who started the fight were long gone. Which is fine, I’ll track them down. My wife’s life was in danger, and she comes first.

“My phone.” He swallows. “I’ve got texts of everyone who was meeting us out tonight. A couple of the guys I didn’t know—”

Colton grabs the back of his neck and slams the side of his face down onto the bloody, metal slab while Finn digs into his pockets, looking for the phone. “Nothing.” Finn looks at me, shaking his head.

“Did you guys find any phones?” I turn, asking Jenks and Alex. They both shake their heads. I face the guy once more, shoving my hands into the pocket of my slacks. “This is a problem.”

Colton lets go of him and the guy stumbles back. “I promise I didn’t know she was your wife.”

It’s not uncommon for fights to break out at Blackout. It’s usually a nightly ordeal. But I want to know if my wife was a target or not.

Removing my hand, I pull out the piece of knife that was removed from my wife’s side. She’s lucky. The blade had been broken so it wasn’t as deep as it could have been. But someone still has to pay for it. I walk over to him, and he starts shaking his head.

“Please … no … I didn’t—”

I stab him in the side, right where my wife was and let go of it. He falls to his knees, gasping for breath. My phone rings and I pull it free of my pocket. “Hello?” I say, seeing its Gavin.

“She’s waking up,” he says in greeting.

“Be right there,” I say, hanging up. Turning, I walk over to the guys and nod for them to follow me up the stairs. Exiting the staircase, we step out into the hallway. I turn to face them. “Throw him outside.”

Alex frowns and Finn smiles.

“Keep an eye on him. I want to know where he goes. Who he sees and who he talks to. If he survives, he’ll take us right where we need to go.”

“Yes, sir,” they all say in unison.

Turning my back to them, I make my way up to the apartment to be with my wife. Everyone involved in what happened tonight will pay for what they did to her.

Shoving the door open, I rush into our bedroom to see Gavin standing next to the bed my wife lies in. She’s got the sheet pulled up to cover her chest because she’s shirtless and her arm lays across it with an IV.

Her head falls to the side, heavy eyes blinking, trying to focus.

“She’s on heavy pain killers,” Gavin tells me, wiping off his bloody hands. “She’s going to be in and out for a while.”

Reaching out, she tries to sit up. I rush over to the bed. “Stay down,” I tell her softly.

“But—”

“You need to rest, Lake.” I reach out and push some dark strands of hair from her face.

Her eyes fall shut.

“It’s okay, little darling.” I cup her bloody cheek. “Just close your eyes. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Her lashes flutter open, and she looks up at me, her pretty blue eyes look glossed over from the drugs. “Promise?” Her voice is soft, fading.

I lean down and kiss her forehead. “I promise.” This time when they close, they don’t reopen. I sit back, running a hand through my hair before looking up at Gavin.

“She was lucky,” he states. “Another inch to the right and I would have needed an OR and even that might not have been enough.”

We kept her down in the basement until he got here. After he removed the knife and stitched her up, we moved her up here to rest. “Thank you.” I stand and reach out my hand. He shakes it, not bothering to care that it’s still bloody.

He nods. “Of course. I’d say the knife was already broken before she was stabbed with it.”

The question is, was she stabbed on purpose or by accident? I’m going to find out.

“She’ll be okay. I’ll come back and check on her in the morning, just make sure she takes is easy. I’d say she’ll have a full recovery in no time.” I thank him again and see him out of the apartment.

I go to the kitchen, grab a big bowl and fill it with warm water and soap then make my way back to the bedroom. I grab a washcloth from the bathroom and pull the comforter down to expose her chest. I place the washcloth into the bowl and then wring it out before I start to clean the blood off her chest, neck, and face along with the little makeup that remains.

“I’m sorry, little darling,” I tell her, hating what happened to her. It’s my fault. Even if she wasn’t targeted, I put her in this club. I made her work on the floor. I should have confined her to the apartment. Kept her as secluded as possible from the world that I know wants to harm her. I should have learned my lesson after Whitney.

Senior year at Barrington University

“Still nothing?” Ryat asks me while I stare at my cell.

“Nothing,” I answer. I’ve been calling and texting Whitney for two days now. But she does this a lot. Goes MIA. It’s because she’s pretending to be pregnant while partying and doesn’t want me to know.

“Just track her phone,” he tells me.

“It’s off,” I growl. Does he think I haven’t thought of that? “Been off since yesterday morning.”

“Well—”

Just as he starts to speak, my cell rings and I see it’s her. “What the fuck, Whit? Where have you been?” I demand.

“Tyson.” She cries on the other end.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “What?” This is what she does, ignores me for days and then pretends to have some catastrophic reason to reach out to me. She knows how to play the damsel in distress way too well.

“Pl-ease…” she chokes out. “I need you.”

I sit up straighter, the sound of her voice sounding more convincing than usual. “Where are you?”

“I—” Cough. “I don’t know.”

“I can track you.” I pull the cell from my ear and turn on her tracking. It shows she’s ten minutes away. “I’m on my way.”

LAIKYN

I’ve been off work for ten days. Tyson said three weeks, but Gavin said that I was doing surprisingly well. It didn’t do any damage to any important organs. It was more superficial than anything, if you ask me. I can go back to work, but I have to be careful not to lift too much too soon and tear my stitches open. Other than that, I’m good.

I haven’t spoken to Tyson much. I’m pissed at him. He promised me that he wouldn’t drug me, and he did. Just another reason I can’t trust him. Things got hard and he just knocked me out.

Not sure why I’m so surprised.

We also haven’t had sex since I was stabbed. If I’m being honest with myself, that’s another reason why I’m so on edge and pissy. I never realized how much sex can affect your everyday life until now. I hate that I ever experienced it to begin with because he can cut me off at any time.

I’m not sure why he hasn’t touched me. Tyson never gives you hints as to why he does what he does. He just expects you to live with it. Or I guess it could have to do with the fact that we were already kinda arguing about what went down in his office with Collin. Well, I was pissed at him, and he didn’t seem to care.

“Good to see you back, Lake.” Beau smiles at me from behind the bar.

I nod. “It’s good to be back.” Setting my tray down on the server station, I ask, “What section do I have tonight?”

He picks up a piece of paper and places it in front of me. “Sorry.”

“He gave me one table,” I bark out. “Seriously?” My eyes snap up to Beau’s.

He raises his hands in surrender. “I just do as I’m told, Lake.”

I let out an audible growl. That’s why he is the way he is. Because everyone just does as they’re told. I spin around to storm off up to his office when Beau stops me. “He’s not up there.”

“Where the hell is he?” I bark, turning back to face him. Since he’s not fucking me, he no longer requires my attendance in his office before my shifts. I haven’t seen him since this morning when I woke up, and even when he left the apartment, he didn’t tell me where he was going.

“Lake.” His face falls. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Looking for your husband?” Bethany asks, coming up beside me. They thought her arm was broken but turns out it wasn’t as bad as that either. He let her come back after a week.

“Yeah. Know where he is?” I ask tightly, hating the fact that I know she does.

Beau shakes his head softly, telling her no, and I narrow my eyes on him. What the fuck?

“Basement,” she answers, trying to hide her smile. We’re not best friends but she’s still nicer than she was when I started working here.

“Basement? Is that like another club or something?” I wonder.

She laughs softly. “The basement. Under Blackout. He’s been down there for days.” Then she grabs her tray and walks off.

“How the hell do I get there?” I demand of Beau.

“Lake, don’t—”

“Bethany?” I call out, interrupting him. She stops and spins around to face me, that pretty smile on her face that I just want to rip off. She got hit pretty hard during the fight and still has a black eye that she’s got covered in layers and layers of makeup. I just want to make the other match right now. “How do I get there?”

She gives me a sympathetic look, and answers, “I’ll show you.”

I leave my tray and follow her down the hallway to where the locker room is. We pass that and turn a corner. Coming to a door, we stop, and she leans up against it. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”

“Warn me of what?” I growl at her.

“That once you go down there, you can’t unsee whatever it is you’ll see. You may think you know him, but I assure you, you don’t.” And with that, she pushes off and sashays away down the hall.

Taking in a deep breath, I twist the knob and open the door to a set of stairs. I enter, shutting it softly behind me. Standing at the top of the stairs, I hear someone softly crying.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Tyson speaks, sending a chill up my spine. His voice sounds so cold. Detached. Every Lord has the ability to do it. They’re taught that. To destroy. To not feel.

“I’m not…” A man’s voice trails off, and a scream follows.

I take a few steps down, not wanting them to know I’m here, and come to a stop once the room comes into view.

My brows furrow. I’ve been down here. I remember it from that night the fight broke out. There’s a metal table that I remember being on. Tyson was on top of me, and Colton was holding me down. Right before I passed out. When I woke up, I was in our bed upstairs.

I see Colton and Finn first, leaning back against a metal counter. Colt has his arms crossed over his chest while Finn has his in his front jeans pockets. Taking another step lower, Tyson comes into view. He’s standing in the middle of the room in front of a man on his knees with his arms tied behind his back.

Tyson yanks the knife from the guy’s thigh and wipes the bloody blade across his jeans. “I’m not going to repeat myself,” he states calmly, as if he has all day to torture the man.

The man looks up at my husband with gritted teeth. “Why do you fucking care anyway, huh? So what if another Minson bitch dies? It’s not like it’s a secret why you married Laikyn.”

Tyson kneels down in front of the guy and smiles at him, it makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. He lifts the knife, twirls it around in his hand before slamming it down, sinking the blade into the man’s other thigh. “Why don’t you tell me why I married her.”

“Fucking … bastard,” he spits out, trying to control his breathing.

“Hmm?” He twists it just a tad, and the guy throws his head back, screaming. It’s so loud, I place my hands over my ears.

“Revenge,” he growls. “On her father.”

Tyson yanks it out and the guy sags his shoulders, his body falling forward a little more as drool falls from his lips. “And then Whitney…”

“What about her?” Tyson asks, not sounding like he cares one bit.

“She was nothing more than a pawn. Just like her sister now.”

Tyson walks up to him and places the tip of the blade under his neck, forcing him to arch it back to look up at him. “Maybe I love my wife,” he offers.

The guy barks out a laugh. “A Lord doesn’t love anything other than their brand.”

“Coming from someone who isn’t a Lord.” Tyson rolls his eyes, stepping back.

The guy bares his teeth. “It’s not hard to win when you cheat,” he spits out.

Tyson looks behind the guy to where Alex stands up against the far wall. “Uncuff him,” he orders.

Alex steps forward and unlocks the cuffs that holds the guy’s wrists behind his back. He brings them forward, rubbing them. He gets to his shaky legs and Tyson holds out the knife to Colton who takes it.

“I just want you to understand that if you kill me, you still won’t walk out of here alive,” Tyson warns him, rolling up the sleeves to his button-up. Translation, the other four men who work for my husband will make sure the guy dies.

The man snorts. “I’d gladly die a hero.”

Tyson smirks and the guy rushes him, letting out a scream. Tyson ducks as the guy goes to hit him, making him miss. Tyson wraps his arms around the guy’s legs, picking him up off the floor and starts running with him. Slamming his back into the far wall. Alex has to move out of the way so he doesn’t get hit.

Tyson lets go of him, and the guy falls to his knees. Tyson grips his head and pushes it down while his knee comes up, smashing his face. Blood and spit cover Tyson and the floor as the man falls to it.

“Last chance,” Tyson speaks. “Why did you stab my wife?”

My eyes widen. Wait? This is about me?

The guy is on all fours, looking up at my husband. He smiles. “Why would I tell you?” He falls onto his ass and wipes his bloody face. “I’m dead anyway.”

“Clear your conscience,” Tyson offers.

He laughs once more. “I will tell you this, though. Someone wants your wife more than you do.” Tyson stiffens and my breath catches. “You’re not the only monster out there, Tyson. They know every move you’re going to make. And you can’t save her. Just like you weren’t able to save Whitney.” He laughs, showing his blood-covered teeth. “Your wife will die in your arms just like her sister.”

I swallow nervously. How does this guy know all of this?

“History repeats itself,” he adds.

Tyson reaches out his right hand and Colton places the knife in it. He throws it, making contact with the guy’s shoulder, knocking him to the concrete floor, screaming out once again. “Fuuccckkk,” he gasps.

Tyson goes over to him and places his boot on the man’s chest, holding him down on his back. “Who wants her?” he demands.

The guy shakes his head. “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Tyson leans over and yanks the knife from his shoulder, making the man grunt. Grabbing the man’s hair, Tyson drags him to the center of the room and positions him on his knees. Stepping behind him, he yanks his head back and places the knife to the guy’s throat.

I stiffen when the guy’s eyes meet mine. “Good luck.” He smiles before Tyson runs the knife across his neck, splitting the skin like butter.

I slap a hand over my mouth to keep my gasp from being heard. No one realizes I’m here expect for the dead man that has blood gushing from his neck wound. A gargling sound fills the room as his body convulses.

Tyson lets go of him and the guy drops to the floor, a pool of blood growing larger by the second as he bleeds out. “I’m going to go shower. Meet me in my office after you’ve cleaned this mess up,” he orders.

I run up the stairs on shaky legs and exit the basement. I walk on autopilot to the wait station. The club has opened since I’ve been down there, and the blinding lights make it feel like I’m walking uneven. Or maybe I am. I stop, placing my hands on the bar. Bowing my head, I close my eyes and try to gather my thoughts.

All of these years, I really thought Tyson killed my sister. Even my brother tried to tell me that he hadn’t. But I didn’t want to believe Miller.

But what if Tyson hadn’t? What if he was innocent and someone went after her because of him? I’ve never thought of it that way. Like me. Who have I pissed off? No one. But why would someone want me dead? It doesn’t add up. Because the guy was right, no one thinks Tyson loves me so why would my death matter? Just to make him relive Whitney’s death maybe?

“Couldn’t handle it, huh?” Bethany laughs, seeing the look on my face.

I lift my eyes to Beau, and he gives me a sympathetic smile. “I tried to help you,” he says before giving me his back to go grab an order.

Bethany comes back to place an order and I look over at her. “You can have my table,” I say, and turn, giving her my back. I make my way to the elevator and go up to the apartment.