Page 104 of Bound By Blood and Lies

“Please,” she chokes out as I stay frozen like a statue. “Please, Bradley, don’t do this. Not this.”

His eyes stay fixed on mine.

“It should have worked,” he says, almost to himself, as his face twists with an ugly and furious glare.

“Everything we did, everything Fisher and I did, it should have worked.”

My pulse shatters as Fiona screams my name.

There’s a deafening crack as the gun blasts through the church and I scream as my body jolts against the hard marble floor. Pain explodes through me as my ears start to ring. It feels like the gun is going off repeatedly as my head throbs and I try to get my bearings. I gently touch my stomach as I start to feel the telltale sign of blood and a sob bursts out of me.

At least we die together.

CHAPTER 29

ROMAN

THIRTY MINUTES EARLIER

Something isn’t right.

I drag a hand over my face and lean back in my chair as my eyes drift toward the window and the last of the sunset bleeds through the glass. The light stretches across the room in long, fading lines, catching on the crystal in my hand as the ice shifts with a clink. I take another sip, letting the whiskey burn its way down my throat, but it does nothing to settle the unease sitting under my skin.

‘Run by Snow Patrol’hums low through the surround sound. I’ve sat here for the last thirty minutes replaying the way Mum and Fae looked when I came home over and over in my head. I tried to ignore it. Tried to convince myself I was reading too much into nothing.

But I can’t.

I glance at my phone hoping that one of them has responded to my text, but I’m met with a blank screen yet again. I grit my teeth as I throw back the rest of my whiskey and stand to try and dispel this feeling crawling up my skin.

“Fuck this,” I growl to myself.

Fae doesn’t lie to me. My mum doesn’t lie to me. So why do I feel like they both lied to my face tonight? My feet match the beat of the song as I pace ten steps in each direction.

Think.

Where could they go that would set alarm bells ringing in my head? Am I really so unhinged that I can’t even trust my own family? My nostrils flare at the wordfamily. It meant nothing to my own dad. Could I really trust that it means something to them too?

“Fuck this,” I spit again and stomp downstairs.

“Atlas!” I shout as I get to the lounge.

If I’m wrong, I’ll swear Atlas to secrecy. If I’m right and they are in trouble, I will never forgive myself for not helping them. They can both deal with my vitriol after we are home. Atlas lifts his head as I finally step fully into the lounge and he nods.

“What do you need?” he asks.

“Track Fae.”

“What? Why?” he splutters.

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” I murmur.

His brows pull together before he leans forward, already reaching for the keyboard.

“What kind of feeling?”

“Something’s wrong. I can feel it.” I drag a breath through my nose, shaking my head once. “It’s the same as before. When she was taken. It feels exactly like that.”

His fingers move across his keyboard as I drop into the nearest chair. The screen lights his face, and I force myself to stay still as he works, even though every instinct in me is screaming to move, to act, to do something other than sit here. Seconds stretch into minutes and my whole body feels alive with nerves as I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from barking at Atlas to move faster.