Rectify (Return to Us Trilogy #2) (23 page)

Oh my god. Please, god, no.

I sprint to him and fall to my knees. "Jacade. Please, no."

His bloodshot eyes open.

"Ivy? What are you..." He mumbles as he untangles his neck and comes to a sitting position. His gaze shifts to the blood staining the crevices of my fingers. He flips my hand up and glares at the gash.

"Did he hurt you?"

"Thank god, you're okay." I glance down at my hand. "Oh, no, I'm fine."

He grabs his balled-up suit jacket from the floor next to him. With his teeth, he rips the seam from the arm and yanks the fabric free. He wraps the material tightly over my palm twice, then circles my thumb and ties a knot.

"I thought you were dead."

"I might as well have been after the way you gutted me. What are you doing here? You're not safe."

"There's no time to explain." I pick the lock on his ankle. "And you might want to be more worried about yourself considering I'm the one rescuing you."

"You're in danger," he says with distress in his somnolent eyes. "And hurt."

"Then let's get the hell out of here." I pull the clips and pins from my hair and dislodge the gun. His huge palm dwarfs the tiny Beretta as I press it in his dirty hand.

"What the fuck?" His face contorts as he stares at the weapon. "Is this my gun?"

I smile. "Yep, and Delia's waiting outside."

A haughty grin grows on his face, his dimple a welcome beacon of solace in this nightmare. "So, you stole my gun and my car?"

I hover my lips over his. "Yeah. I had to come get what's mine." A kiss would hurt his swollen and cracked lips, so I settle for resting my forehead on his. His sultry breath, his virile body, and his raw fearlessness, emanate from him and give me strength.

We can do this together.

I may be in Satan's den, but he's my guardian angel.

***

Jacade

"We need to move." I say as I check the firing chamber to make sure it's loaded. Fucking Ivy brought me a gun.

"Can you walk?" she asks me.

"Yeah."

No fight or flight debate. Time to fight. I'm getting her out of here in one piece. It may be over my corpse, but she will live.

She hauls my right arm over her shoulders. I stumble on my feet as we trudge to the door.

I stare down at her and say, "Listen to me. I can't explain now, but you're in a lot of danger. If it comes down to it, leave me. Run and don't stop running until you're safe."

"I'm not leaving you. Ever." She raises her soft hand to my cheek and peers up at me. "Your final breath will be my final breath."

"No, baby, please." She has to go if something goes awry.

"If you stop breathing, so do I."

"Ivy, promise me you'll run."

"You heard me. You're mine. I'm not leaving you." Damn, woman. I can't argue with you right now. "Let's go. Is there another way out besides the stairs?"

"Not that I know of." She glances to our left at the wooden stairs.

Fuck. Well, we're going up the stairs then.

My left foot screams with my first step. I bolster myself and take another step. She supports me at my hips. "I've got you." I hang my head. How the hell am I going to get her out of here alive if I can't even walk?

She whispers, "Fight through it, babe. We have to keep going."

Keeping my toes in the air and bracing my weight on my heel, we make it to the landing in the kitchen. Near the front door, Trey leans on his crutch and texts on his phone.

"Stay here." I limp across the tile and hide behind the wall. Trey crosses into the kitchen, and I lunge at him from behind. I get him into a rear neck choke and a simple wrench of my elbow collapses his trachea.

"That's for Amber."

He gasps and struggles, but I hold strong. His body crumples to the tile. I slit his throat with a kitchen knife.

"That's for the staples."

I bend down to grab his Glock. I signal to Ivy at the stairs, and she skitters under my arm again. I hand her the Beretta—easier for her to shoot. I aim the Glock at the entry to the kitchen.

"You didn't need to kill him. You could've just knocked him out." I look down at her. Is she criticizing my martial arts skills?

"Yeah, I could've. But I didn't want to." That fucker needed to die.

The hall is clear. Time to make our move.

I turn and glare at her. "We need to make a run for it. Stay right by me. If anyone, and I mean anyone, comes at you, shoot them. If you lose your gun, go for their eyes and groin."

"I know, I know. Then once he bends over, I ram my knee into his nose, or if he's on the ground, I stomp on his throat." She waves me off with her hand.

Hold up. How does she know how to fight?

She grins and pushes my back. "C'mon."

She will be explaining this later. "No hero shit, Ivy. Run and don't look back."

We hobble to the front door, but she pulls away from under my arm as I grab the knob. She stares at the staircase in a trance.

"Ivy, come. Now." We don't have time for this.

I swing the front door wide.

Kara and one of Viktor's men scowl back at me from the porch.

Son of a motherfucking bitch.

***

Ivy

"Ivy!" I whip around in response to Jacade's urgent yell.

Jim stands in the doorway with the twat from the restaurant, who I now know is Viktor's sister, Kara.

"You're both fucking dead!" Viktor's threat clangs in my ears.

Viktor takes measured steps down the stairs with the gun in his left hand pointed to the floor. The bridge of his nose has an angry cut, and a dark-red blotch stains his pants by his zipper.

Good. I'm glad I drew blood.

Jacade grasps my elbow and backs us up so we are positioned strategically between the door and the stairs. We exchange a glance so brief I'm sure they wouldn't notice it.

I aim my gun at Viktor's head in the same instant Jacade presses Trey's Glock to Jim's head.

Viktor holds his bandaged hand out to me. "Vee, give me the gun."

"Don't, Ivy. Shoot him!" Jacade shouts.

"You wouldn't," Viktor says with a sneer.

"I've done it before, and this time it won't be in your leg."

Viktor raises his gun and points the barrel sideways at Jacade.

"No!" I scream.

"Ivy, behind you!" Jacade's warning hits my ears as a sharp blade slices into my neck. Kara's arm wraps around my upper chest, and I lose my grip on my gun as I grab for the blade.

Kara drags me back toward the study. Jacade turns his back on Jim and runs in my direction. Jim slams Jacade from the behind and forces him to the ground. Jacade's terrified eyes never leave mine.

Darn. I knew he'd sacrifice himself to save me. I raise my elbows and strike Kara over my shoulders with both fists at the same time. She releases me and puts her hands over her eyes. I tackle her to the ground. We scuffle and she manages to roll on top of me. Her crazed eyes glow with madness through her tangled platinum hair.

She tries to press the knife to my throat, but I catch the handle and push with all my might. My sweaty palms slip on her skin.

"He's mine, heifer," Kara says through gritted teeth.

I choke out my words. "There's a problem with that." I jam my right knee into her cunt.

"Ahh!" She screams and drops the knife.

I flip her onto her stomach and straddle her, pinning her arm between her shoulder blades with one hand and holding the knife where she can see it. Blood drips from my neck onto her back.

Time to set this tramp straight.

"He has always been, and will always be, mine. Biatch." I yank her arm higher on my last word, and she howls in pain.

Maybe I should snap her arm so she doesn't forget.

"Drop it." I freeze at the press of cold steel between my eyes. "Now!" Viktor's voice bellows in my ear. I release her wrist and the knife.

"On your feet." I stand, and he moves with me to keep the gun pressed to my forehead. "Downstairs."

I look to the place I last saw Jacade, but he's gone.

Viktor snarls at me. "Move it, kitten." He drags me by the hair toward the basement. He scowls over his shoulder at his sister. "Get up."

Ivy

Viktor drags me, bent and stumbling, down the stairs. My stockings are torn and blood covers my chest.

Jacade hollers from the basement. "Ivy! Ivy!"

I turn my head to catch a glimpse of Jacade kneeling execution style facing the card table. Jim stands behinds him with the barrel of his gun pressed to Jacade's temple.

Viktor thrusts me down in a chair. "Sit." He puts his putrid face next to mine. "If you run, I'll slaughter him. Promise you, Vee."

I squint at him. "Fuck you." My saliva splatters on his face. "And your filleted dick."

Viktor smacks my cheek.

Jacade's grunts and gets one foot underneath him to stand, but Jim pushes him down.

The bitter sting throbs from my chin to my eye. My bedraggled hair conceals the lone tear trailing down my cheek. I square my shoulders and turn to Viktor. He doesn't get my tears. I've wasted enough on him in this lifetime. He wipes my spit off his face with the sleeve of his jacket.

Viktor removes his jacket and hangs it on the chair across from me before he sits down. He takes a fleeting look up as his sister comes down the stairs. "About time you joined the party, Kara."

Kara huffs and sends demon spells at me with her eyes as she walks in and leans her back against the wall behind Viktor.

"We could have had a grand life together, Vee. Like Bonnie and Clyde." He shakes his head as he rolls his sleeves back.

"They both die," I say.

"That they do. Sly move with the razor, Vee. I was gonna pump my dick in every one of your holes, then hand you over to my side. Once they find out who you are, they're gonna beg for me to come back."

What the hell is he talking about? I'm nobody indispensable. He's definitely a few fries short of a Happy Meal.

"I'd rather gargle with antifreeze than withstand your flaccid dick inside me again."

He laughs. "That can be arranged." Viktor leans back and crosses his legs at the ankles, his arms hanging lax beside him. "So, Vee. What's the plan now?"

"Same plan as before. Murder you." I rest my forearms on the card table, my eyes focused on him and no one else.

He chuckles. "And how do you propose to do that?" He holds his hand out in Jacade's direction. "Your man is, let's say, incapacitated."

I glance at Kara. "I don't need anyone else to do my scut work. I'll put an end to you myself."

"You mean her?" He exhales and points his thumb over his shoulder at her.

"Did you not use your sister to capture Jacade? Totally spineless, even for a prick like you." I sit back in my chair.

"I guess I did and it worked." He bends forward over the table and cups his hand over his mouth. He pretends to whisper but speaks loud enough I'm sure everyone in the room can hear. "Just between us, she's not my sister."

What? I arch my neck to look at Kara. Her face scrunches.

"You... you told me I was your twin sister." Her hands shake at her sides. "You brought me here. You showed me my birth certificate."

Viktor watches me but speaks to her. "I lied." He laughs and turns to meet her glassy eyes. "You didn't think we were going to be a jolly old family, did you?"

This poor girl, caught in Viktor's web of deceit. Crocodile tears stream down her cheeks.

I shake my head. "Just when I think you couldn't be any less of an abominable douchebag, you spawn this schizo plan and destroy someone's life. Why, Viktor?"

"It's simple. She helped me get what I want—you. Now, I have no need for her." He picks up his gun on the table and extends his arm behind his chair.

Bang
!

The bullet hits Kara in the shoulder. Her hand flies to the entry point, her shocked gaze locked on Viktor. Brilliant red plasma leaks through her fingers.

"How could you…" She gags and a glob of blood flops to the dirt. I'm transfixed by the scarlet lump. The mixture of DNA that was once Kara will no longer be of this earth. Her knees buckle, and her back folds like a marionette whose strings have been cut. She topples to the floor, and her eyes void of life.

What the hell? I wrap my arms around my stomach. He's a psycho maniac. I'm in too deep. I don't know this Viktor.

"Any more questions, Vee?" He points his gun at Jacade, and I stifle my gasp.

"What do you want from me, Viktor?" I ask with my eyes moving between both guns pointed at Jacade's head. Jacade's face is so caked in sweat and blood and grime, he's unrecognizable as he glares at Viktor.

"A little… entertainment." He lowers his gun and tucks it into his waistband holster.

From the inside of his jacket hanging off his chair, he pulls out his .38 Special revolver and holds it up in front of me.

"Remember this, sweetie pie?" He twirls the gun in a circle with his finger in the trigger guard.

Yes. The one and only time I saw him use that revolver was when he played Russian roulette with a man who stole money from his safe. Viktor sneaked extra bullets into the revolver, and I watched as the man put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger. His brain tissue splattered on Viktor's fruit-themed kitchen wallpaper.

Viktor opens the cylinder and empties six bullets onto the table.

"I do, but what does it have to do with me?" My voice cracks.

"He"—he nods in Jacade's direction—"fucked up my life."

"And how is that my fault?"

He leans on his forearms and glares at me. "Eighteen years ago, you could've boosted any car, but you had to go and pick the Mustang. Trip wouldn't even know Bernard if you had chosen a different car that night."

I did what? I'm lost.

Jacade rocks back and forth and shakes his head, mouthing the word
No
.

I have no idea what Viktor's talking about, but the longer I keep him chatting, the more time I have to figure a way out of this. I need to lasso in my terror and play smart. Four steps ahead, Summers.

"So, Viktor, is Jacade the reason you tried to kill me three years ago?"

His forehead wrinkles and his jaw drops. Oh yeah, I know the truth now.

"I didn't try to kill you. I was playing with Bernard's head. It's not my fault you coded on the table and almost died. You got lucky stupid Trip burst in to the rescue and saved you." He slides the gun to me. "Now you'll play for
his
life." He rolls the one bullet across the table, and I stop it with my hand. "Ladies first."

If I do this, Jacade might survive.

I focus on my distorted image in the matte silver of the revolver. The reflection that follows me everywhere I go, a constant reminder of my inadequacies. My imperfections. Everything I detest about myself.

Is it possible for the twin I've loathed for so long to be noble? Maybe she can spare the life of the man I love.

Jacade's passionate screams have been muted the whole time I was looking at the gun, but the words become discernable when he yells, "Ivy, goddammit. Eyes on me. Eyes on me!"

I turn my head to him and our gazes lock. "Don't. Please." He's desperate for me.

"I've got you," I say to him with conviction and a slight nod of my head.

"Baby, please, no."

"Trust me."

His head whips to the side, driving Jim's gun into his forehead. "Do it, fucker. I won't live in a world without her. Do it now!"

Jim gapes at Viktor for direction.

"If she dies, Viktor, I swear to fucking god, I'll crucify you." His voice is a demonic snarl. "I'll tie you to a cross and slice you slow and painful. I'll rejoice in your pleas for mercy as I sever your flesh and dismember your limbs joint by joint." Jacade pushes his forehead harder into the gun, and Jim takes a step backward to steady his stance. "You better kill me. Fucking kill me, you pussy!"

Viktor looks at Jim and says, "Shut him up."

Jim clocks Jacade in the back of the head with the butt of his pistol. Jacade's body drops to the side like a sack of flour. A puff of dirt floats in the air over his limp frame.

"What are the terms?" I ask Viktor.

"One bullet. You spin the cylinder, place the barrel to your temple, and pull the trigger. If you die, I let him go. If you live, I kill you both."

The maliciousness in his eyes tells the tale. He wants me to kill myself. And he wants Jacade to endure a life without me.

I pick up the revolver in my right hand. The polished metal is dense compared to the compact gun I had in my hair. I spin the cylinder and make sure there are six empty chambers. I push the bullet into one of the chambers and spin the cylinder again.

Tink
-
tink
-
tink
.
Tink
-
tink
-
tink
.

The cylinder locks closed with a flick of my wrist.

Gravity. The odds are the bullet will end up in the bottom of the cylinder. I should have at least two blank shots before a live one.

"How do I know you'll let him live? I'll be dead."

He shrugs. "You don't. You'll have to trust that I want to watch him suffer, so I won't kill him."

Think, Ivy. Think. Two blanks then a live round.

"What about him?" I nod to Jim. "How do I know he won't hurt Jacade?"

"Fine." He pulls his gun from his waistband and points it sideways at Jim.

Bang
!

He shoots Jim in the throat. Ruby-red blood squirts from his jugular. With his hands grabbing at his neck, Jim's face turns ashy and drains of color. He wobbles toward me like a gory Frankenstein begging for help. He stumbles over Jacade's legs and crashes flat on his face. His backside twitches and blood pools around his head.

"Better?" He's heartless. Not tinman heartless because even a wizard couldn't make Viktor care about anyone but himself.

Yes, that's great, Viktor, because you just shot your last man. You're the only one left, and I have a loaded gun in my hand.

He's shooting left-handed, and he's injured. I have to take the chance he's slow enough I can get three rounds out before he shoots me. Worst case, six rounds.

Inhale. Exhale.

"Time's up, Vee."

My hands shake as I stand and fumble to aim the barrel of the revolver at Viktor's head. "Exactly, Viktor. Your time is up."

Click.

Click.

Come on. Please, lord.

Click.

Damn
.

Click
.

Shit
.
Two rounds left.

Click.

Bang
!

Agony ambushes the left side of my body. I press my hand to the pain in my abdomen and lift a bloody hand.

He shot me first.

Viktor leers at me across the table. "You don't get to leave this time."

Bang
!

Viktor's left hand explodes, and his gun lands on the floor in the dirt. His maimed finger skids then somersaults across the table. The jagged bone stops it from rolling onto my lap. I turn to see Jacade sprawled over Jim's body. His arms are stretched out in front of him. His zip-tied hands aim Jim's gun at Viktor.

"Ivy, stay back!"

No. Viktor's mine.

I choke on my words. "Die, you sick son of a bitch."

Bang
!

My last bullet carves a crescent-shaped crater above Viktor's left ear. His shredded brain tissue falls from his mangled scalp. Blood streams over his alarmed eyes and into his open mouth.

Viktor's body convulses, his fingers twitching, as Jacade unloads nine more bullets into him. Viktor's corpse slouches in the chair, his eyes wide and stained with blood.

I drop the revolver and my body rolls onto the dirt floor. The excruciating ache in my gut burns with fire as Jacade lifts me onto his lap and cradles me in his arms.

He clutches my head against his chest.

Thump-thump
.
Thump-thump
.

His heart is beating and Viktor's isn't.

Mission accomplished.

"I'm so sorry, Jacade."

"Shh, baby." He pulls the top of my bloody skirt down to inspect my wound.

"How bad is it?" My voice falters.

"Don't think about that now." He presses his hand on my injury, and I wince in pain. "I know it hurts."

"I love you, Jacade. I want to be by your side. Come what may. I'm not afraid. If I die—"

"You're not going to die. I love you so fucking much, I'd charge the gates of hell to keep you breathing."

"Now we're even. You saved me and I saved you. A life for a life. Go. All his men are dead."

"Quiet. I'll get us out of here."

My eyes close, and the endless tunnel reconstructs. The cracked concrete zigzags down the walls. Puddles on the ground freeze my feet.