Chapter 62: Dead of Wynter: Chapter 61

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Storm hisses the moment we’re left alone, tied to the chairs from the dining room and positioned in the middle of the lounge room.

“I was thinking Rayne would fucking die without Emerson, and Snow is my baby sister. Of course I fucking locked them in the panic room and played dumb to these idiots,” I growl, my eyes falling on the bleeding wound at his temple. The protective instinct calls to me to clean and dress the cut, but there’s no way out of the coarse ropes around my wrists.

I shouldn’t be surprised they brought the most abrasive rope they could find, and every time I try to wiggle my wrists through the knots, fresh cuts appear in my skin. But that hasn’t stopped me. This is not how I go down. I’m going to kill Everett if it’s the last thing I do. I’m going to look him point blank in the eye and shoot him so he knows exactly who ended his life. Anger has replaced some of the sadness, and at least I can use it to get me through the night. Because we will make it. We will get out of here. There’s no other option.

“Everett’s going to kill me when he finds out you’re not in that fucking panic room. The whole reason he built it was to keep you safe in an emergency,” he mutters.

“Don’t say his name,” I snap. It’s easier to channel my rage when I don’t associate him with the man I loved, the one who stole my heart and never gave it back.

Storm sighs. “He’s playing them, Wyn. He’s been playing them for years. He gets involved when we get wind of a trafficking shipment, we save the girls, and then he fucks off again until the next time.”

My eyes snap up to meet his, looking for any sign of a lie. “What do you mean?”

Storm looks around to make sure the men haven’t returned. So far, it’s only the two guys who grabbed me, but I’m sure there are others around here looking for something they can use against us. “It started a few years ago. Angelo got it in his head that dear old nephew was going to come back to the family, and so he invited Everett to the club to discuss potentially reconnecting. They needed him for something computer related, if I recall, and we started making plans. Those photos you saw in your office, they are of him, but whatever Angelo told you was probably fabricated. The man wouldn’t know the truth if it hit him in the fucking face.”

I stare at my brother for long moments. No one has ever pulled the wool over his eyes, never been able to fool him. The man has been three steps ahead in every challenge we’ve ever faced up until now. But what if he can’t see what’s right in front of him? What if this was Everett’s plan all along and now it’s coming to fruition Storm can’t see it for what it is?

“I know when I’m being played, Wynter, and Everett has never played me or anyone in this family. Everything he’s ever done has been to keep you safe. Those first few months after he left, I honestly thought he was going to die. He got into fights, drank himself stupid, and took so many drugs I’m surprised he still has any brain cells. I know you’re hurt. I know he hurt you and now you’re jumping to any conclusion that makes him the bad guy. But he’s not the villain here.”

I open my mouth to reply but quickly snap it shut when I hear voices in the hallway. It’s the two men from earlier but there’s another two voices that are almost too familiar. One belongs to the most ruthless man of the Russo family, and the other is someone much closer.

Charles?

Storm and I look at each other at the same time, his eyes filled with the same shock I’m feeling. Our head of security is in on this? He’s the rat?

The two bodies fill the room and I can’t help but allow my mouth to drop open at the sight of them together. Out of all the people I suspected to be the rat, Charles was never one of them, I don’t think I so much as considered him. He came to work for us shortly after I returned from college and he’s never been anything other than sweet. His kind green eyes are dark now, danger lurking behind them as he looks at me with disgust, but I can’t think of a single thing I could have done to make him so angry.

“The surprise when someone they trusted betrays them is always my favorite,” Elijah muses.

“Charles, you don’t have to do this,” Storm says calmly. There’s a reason he’s the one running the company. He has Dad’s calm demeanor while Rayne, Snow, and I have our mother’s fire.

“Oh, but I do.” Charles tears his glare from me and repositions it on my brother. “You did kill my brother after all, so I think it’s only fair I kill someone you love. Poetic justice and all that.”

Elijah sighs and flops down onto the lounge dramatically. I’ve met him a few times over the years and each time I have no idea what to think of him. “Everett isn’t going to be happy.”

“I don’t really give a fuck about him. We had a deal, Russo,” Charles growls, the bite in his voice causes me to flinch.

“We did,” he agrees.

“If we could find one of the other bitches I would reconsider.” His eyes turn back to me as if I’m the one with all the answers, but I keep my mouth shut. I’d rather die a thousand deaths than give up my sisters.

“Not Snow,” Elijah snaps, his forest green eyes darkening.

The three of us all turn our attention on him, but it’s short-lived. Charles returns his attention to me, the coldness in his eyes a direct contrast to the warmth I’ve come to expect. “I suppose it is poetic justice that it be you who dies, seeing as you are the reason my brother was murdered.”

My brow furrows in confusion and I jerk my head to the side to look at Storm who seems equally confused until understanding dawns on us at the same time. “Craig,” I whisper.

“Ding, ding, ding,” Charles chimes. “You couldn’t keep your fucking legs together and so my brother died because of you.”

“That’s not what happened,” I tell him.

“Oh, I know exactly what happened, you little harlot. You were going to that sinful club, sneaking away in the dark of night to hide your shame. My brother only wanted to cleanse you. He was giving you a chance at redemption.”

The blood rushes from my face, sweat gathering at my temples as I struggle not to fall into the memories of the night I wished for death. It’s only now as I stare at Charles, that I see the resemblance to his brother. Perhaps I didn’t see it before because he was always so nice, his face always kind, his movements non-threatening, but as he looks down on me with revulsion in his eyes, the similarities are all I see.

A strangled sob tears from my throat and I can’t do anything to stop it. His words are so close to the ones Craig uttered to me as he beat me until I was bloody and broken that I almost can’t differentiate this moment from that one. “You don’t understand. I didn’t go there for sex. I swear I didn’t.”

“Wynter,” Storm warns calmly, and he doesn’t need to say anything for me to understand the unspoken words. Falling apart allows him to win. And explaining myself to a madman is pointless. He’s made his mind up about how this is going to go, and nothing is going to make him deviate from that path.

“It doesn’t really matter what you went there for anyway.” Charles drops his hands to his belt, and I squeeze my eyes shut. No. Not again. I’ll beg for death before I allow him to hurt me the same way his brother did. “Stepping foot in a place like that is a sin in the Lord’s eyes, and now you’ll pay for your family’s transgressions with your blood.”