Stolen Crown by S. Massery
Aiden
“You could’ve driven yourself,”Luca grumbles.
I shrug. “I wanted company.”
“You wanted to make sure someone would stop you from hauling Gemma out of there.”
True.
I rub my chest where her hand was. The bullets were caught by the vest I wore under my shirt, but the close range was too much. Deep muscle bruises are spread out across my chest. If Gemma had seen my skin, she might’ve lost it.
As it is, she’s looking like a ghost girl. An angry ghost girl. Never in my life have I been more worried about leaving her with her own goddamn family. I’ve been able to convince her of a lot of things, but my feelings for her? Never thought I’d have to go out of my way to get her to believe that.
“You’re worried?” he asks.
I grunt.
“Naturally,” he continues. “Why else would you follow her in the middle of the night?”
Her car slips past us, and Luca automatically starts his engine once she’s made another turn. I pull out my phone and watch the blinking dot that is Gemma West travel back toward Brooklyn.
I planted a tracker on her car months ago—before Wilder’s death, even. She was newly nineteen, and I was hearing rumors that her father wanted her married off. The tracker was a way to make sure she wasn’t going to do anything rash, and then I never removed it.
Handy little thing.
“She’s going home?” Luca asks.
I zoom in. “I think so.”
But then she makes a turn that she shouldn’t, and I pause.
“What?” Luca asks.
“Not home,” I grit out.
I should’ve asked more questions, then decided whether or not to throw her over my shoulder and abduct her for real. Knowing her, she’d probably be into it… after the hate sex, of course. After she went limp from coming on my tongue, over and over.
She felt different tonight. There was a barrier between us that wouldn’t fall. Her guard was up and fortified. She was surprised to see me, but surprise didn’t keep her from being happy to see me.
Something else did.
The men who raided our wedding and spirited her away may as well have been phantoms. They left no traces except for the crushed bullets we extracted from my vest, and the three smoke canisters they deployed.
Everything was military grade, and that’s as far as that information went before it dead-ended. There are too many places to get your hands on that equipment. It wasn’t like the bullets the coroner pulled from the customs officer, which led us to Rubert’s little gang.
Six men working in fluid precision—a highly organized and trained team.
Even Hart wasn’t able to get eyes on them until it was too late.
I hate mysteries.
I’m sick of them.
Wilder’s killer, the shipping container’s theft, the councilwoman’s anonymous donor, and now Gemma is acting weird.
Family duty has sunk its claws into her and probably compounded since she’s been back with them. Rumor has it, Colin brought her home because they were ramping up an attack on our family. And yet, the dumbass let her out of his sight tonight.
Some protection.
It just goes to show that I should’ve taken her with me.
“What’s the play?” Luca asks.
I glance over at him.
Luca is different. He seems happier now that he’s been living abroad, traveling all over Europe with his new bride. Where there used to be a weight of obligation on his shoulders, he’s been set free. It’s not a secret that there’s no love lost between him and Dad.
I don’t feel nearly enough trepidation as I should when I say, “I caught her in Dad’s office the day before the wedding.”
He slams on the brakes, stopping us in the center of the road. A car behind us lays on the horn, swerving and flipping us off as they speed by.
“What the fuck?” My brother glares at me. “You waited a week to reveal that?”
I lift my shoulder. “I think she found something.”
He stares at me. “Does this mean she was kidnapped on purpose?”
“I don’t fucking know.” I ball my hands into fists and try to resist destroying the inside of his car. “What if she did find something crucial? I don’t know what Dad has in his office that could spook her.”
“Crucial to what?” He shakes his head. “We’re surrounded by questions. What was she searching for? And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, question her about it?”
I laugh. No, I didn’t even think to ask her about it. I was more focused on my own anger and fear of what Dad would do to her if he had caught her. All I can do is shake my head, and Luca groans.
“You’re an idiot.”
I scoff.
“When it comes to that girl? Downright stupid,” he mutters.
“You’re an ass.”
He chuckles. “Well, are we following her?”
I give him a look, and he laughs louder.
Of course we’re fucking following her.
