Chapter 4

Daryl didn't answer. He simply ripped a heavy tactical Kevlar vest off the hook by the door and shoved it hard against my chest.

"I owe her parents a blood debt," he said, his voice completely flat. But his knuckles were bone-white where he gripped the ripstop nylon edge. "Years ago, during a turf war, her old man took a bullet meant for me. Her mother caught the crossfire trying to pull him out. So I brought her back to the gang. Raised her like my own little sister."

"With a suicide note sitting right here, I can't just look the other way."

A bond forged in blood. The only surviving bloodline of the man who died to save his ass.

Fuck. When he pulled the blood-debt card, it completely shut me up. Faced with an excuse that ripped the scab right off a bloody past, I couldn't even force a curse word out to argue.

He pushed the vest closer to me.

"But I'm not going alone. Wherever I ride tonight, you ride with me. Once we find her, you can settle this score with me."

I snatched the vest with a cold glare, zipped it up in one sharp motion, and shoved past him out the door.

"Lead the way. I'm not in the mood to waste my entire night here watching your precious little sister turn our wedding night into her own tragic melodrama."

Outside, the freezing rain was pouring.

The roar of the reviving motorcycle engine tore a gash through the howling wind. After a fifteen-minute death ride, we hit the treacherous cliffside stretch of the interstate.

That beat-up pickup was parked right at the edge of the cliff. The keys and a note were neatly weighed down under a rock near the drop-off.

Daryl snatched the note. He didn't make a sound. But I caught a glimpse of a single line: 'Daryl, I won't be your burden anymore. I'm going to join my parents.'

His jaw clenched tight. He barked out the search orders. Dozens of thugs instantly scattered into the pitch-black, rain-drenched woods.

I didn't even look at him, turning on my heel and heading straight for the unlit downward slope.

I barely took two steps before Daryl grabbed my forearm, his grip terrifyingly strong. I tried to yank it away, but he crowded my space, pinning me hard against the damp trunk of a thick pine.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, looming over me. "Stay close. These woods are a death trap in the dark."

I didn't bother with the whole pushing-and-shoving routine. Backhanding a grip on the soaked front of his Kevlar vest, I aggressively yanked the man down an inch to my level.

"Cut the crap." I stared coldly into his eyes, the embers of my fury still burning wild. "You've got dozens of guys combing the main road. I'm going to check the spillway. It's faster."

His jaw muscle feathered. His fingers remained locked around my arm, refusing to surrender.

"Let go, Daryl," I warned, my gaze like a knife as I threw off his iron grip. "Aren't you in a rush to save your precious little sister? We split up."

He froze in the churning wind and rain for two seconds. Those pitch-black eyes locked onto my face with an overwhelming pressure, like he was desperately suppressing some surging emotion.

Finally, with a tight jaw, he slowly released his grip.

I didn't spare him a second glance. I just adjusted my collar, turned around, and disappeared into the darkness.

I knew this abandoned sector better than anyone. Someone who took the time to neatly weigh down a suicide note with a rock wasn't actually looking to die. She just needed an audience.

I ditched the main group and slipped alone toward the abandoned spillway arches.

Just as I thought. Chloe was curled up under a concrete arch. Bone dry. Not a single scratch on her.

Hearing my footsteps, she whipped her head around. When she realized it was me, the anticipation on her face instantly crumbled. It morphed into pure, unadulterated malice.

"What are you doing here?" She stepped out of the shadows, her eyes frantically scanning the darkness. "Where's Daryl?"

"Losing his mind up top," I said, crossing my arms and leaning against a rusted guardrail piling. "His crew almost drove right off the cliff trying to find you a minute ago. And here you are, sitting pretty without a scratch."

She ground her teeth, a crack forming in her flawless victim mask. "You have no idea how much he means to me. An outsider like you—"

"I get it," I cut her off effortlessly. "You figured if you squeezed out a few tears and staged some cheap life-and-death drama, he'd be so overwhelmed with guilt he'd run right back to your arms, right?"

She was completely enraged, her voice pitchy and shrill.

"If you hadn't used the Eastside territory to buy your way into his bed, I'd be the one wearing his ring by now!" she spat, biting her lip and glaring daggers at me.

I found it pathetic. I wasn't about to waste my breath on a little girl's petty jealousy. I took a step forward, looking down my nose at her.

"Listen to me, little girl." My voice sliced through the rain. "He belongs to me on paper now. If he so much as glances your way, I'll grab a tire iron out of the garage and shatter his kneecaps myself. Then you can wheel him down the aisle all you want."

Chloe's face went ashen. Her tragic romance act had been utterly pulverized.

Confirming she was nothing but a waste of time, I turned around, ready to leave.

"Chloe!" Daryl's frantic, furious roar suddenly echoed from the ridge above the bridge. He was close.

In a split second, pure malice crawled into Chloe's eyes. She lunged, her fingernails frantically digging into the hard fabric of my tactical jacket.

"Take a guess," she hissed right against my ear. "If we both go over the edge, who does Daryl pull out of the water first?"

I hadn't even found my footing on the slick moss. She threw her entire body weight against me. The muddy edge beneath my feet gave way.

Without a second of hesitation, she let herself fall backward out into the open air, dead-weighting and dragging me down into the abyss with her!

The violent, muddy water swallowed me whole in an instant.

Broken branches and industrial debris lashed viciously against my Kevlar vest. The invisible undercurrents dragged at me relentlessly.

At the exact same moment, Chloe's head broke the surface a few yards away.

She started thrashing wildly in the filthy water, her shrill scream ripping through the storm:

"Help! Daryl! I'm over here! Save me!"