Kidnapped by the Billionaire(61)

But Violet hadn't. All she'd had was a shitty family life. She hadn't  been tortured or murdered or raped, and neither had she known anyone who  had. There was no nobility in her, there never had been. She was a  pampered Manhattan princess enacting a petty rebellion against her  family because they never paid her any attention. She had no excuse, she  hadn't been anyone's victim. She'd only wanted to feel connected to  someone. Only wanted to feel not so alone.

But maybe there was a reason she was. Maybe the monster that had lived  in her father, that now lived in his son, lived in her too. The dark  hunger, the need. The hole in her soul.

Elijah had told her there was nothing wrong with her, and she'd wanted  to believe it. But in so many ways, it was easier not to. In so many  ways, it was safer to accept what she knew deep down inside.

There was no hope for her.

Because surely only a monster let another monster live for their own selfish reasons.

"No," she said thickly, again. "I'm sorry, Eli. I can't let you. If you want to kill Theo, you'll have to kill me first."



Elijah stared into Violet's blue-green eyes, searching for any kind of  understanding. But there was none. There was only pain and the kind of  determination that he'd recognized in her so many times before. She  meant this. There would be no moving her.

Getting into the room where Violet was had been easy. He'd decided  against going in the front, since it was likely the roof would be less  heavily guarded, a hunch that had paid off. There had been an easy route  from the roof of the building next door and the door that had led down  into the apartment block's stairwell had had a paltry lock that had  given the moment Elijah kicked it.         

     



 

There had been no one watching the roof or the stairwell. Clearly Jericho was not expecting visitors.

Eva had tracked the phone to a particular apartment, and Elijah had  managed to get rid of the four guards who had been watching that floor  without too many problems. He'd checked the bodies for ID but hadn't  managed to find anything. All of which just added to his suspicions that  Jericho had indeed taken Violet.

He'd debated briefly the merits of kicking the door in and then had  decided to hell with it, he wanted Violet and that was the most direct  route. So he had, shooting what must have been the owner of the phone  he'd been tracking before the guy had even managed to get a shot off.

Then he'd had eyes for nothing but Violet, because there she was,  standing in the middle of the dingy apartment, her face white, but  alive. And the relief had nearly brought him to his knees.

He hadn't failed her. Which meant he could save her.

Then he'd realized she wasn't alone.

Now, the dead man who was apparently Theo Fitzgerald was staring back at  him, looking like he'd just stepped out of the pages of GQ and so  fucking smug, Elijah wanted to pull that trigger and Violet be damned.

He could. In fact, she didn't even need to die. He could just reach out and take her, pull her away and shoot the prick.

But clearly the asshole had had the same thought, because he reached out  and put a possessive hand on Violet's shoulder, pulling her back.  Holding her. "I wouldn't," he said calmly. "She meant what she said."

Violet's expression didn't change, no matter that her brother seemed to be using her to protect himself.

"Hiding behind your sister, prick?" Elijah didn't lower the Colt. He  wanted to shoot so badly it was all he could do not to pull that  trigger. "I guess that's what Jericho does best after all. He hides and  lets other people do his dirty work for him."

Jericho's expression didn't alter, remaining calm. "You should never  have involved yourself, Mr. Hunt. You should have given her to me and  let me keep her safe."

"What, with you? Safe like Marie was safe? I don't fucking think so."

There was no flicker in that green-gold gaze. No hint of remorse or  guilt or even sympathy. There was nothing at all. "Be happy with your  trade concessions. That's all you're going to get."

"I don't want your fucking trade concessions," Elijah spat. "I never  did. All I wanted was your father's head. And then someone took that,  which means I'll have to settle for yours."

At last, a flicker of what looked like regret passed over Jericho's  golden-boy features. "I suppose I should have seen this. Nevermind,  can't be helped now. You won't shoot me, Mr. Hunt. Not if you want  Violet to live."

"You happy with this?" He looked at Violet, staring into her eyes,  wanting to see that sympathy he knew was there, that understanding. But  there was nothing but pain and that fucking awful determination. "Your  brother using you to protect himself?"

An emotion shifted and changed in her eyes, more hurt. "Like you never did the same thing."

And he felt that, the barbs on the words catching at him, tearing at  him. Because of course it was true. He had used her. All this time,  that's exactly what he'd been doing.

"Violet," he said, unable to keep the desperate sound out of his voice. "Princess  …  I need this. Let me have it."

But her expression shuttered. "No. You're not killing him, Elijah."

"You want me to hurt you? Is that what you want?"

"But you won't hurt me." A bright spark of agony glowed in her eyes,  suddenly sharp. "That's the thing Eli. I know you'd never hurt me,  because I know you're a good man, a just man. And I'm … " She stopped,  that little spark glowing brighter. "You told me once that all of us are  monsters deep down, even me."

Oh, fuck. No. "Violet, you're not-"

"I'm a Fitzgerald, Eli. And us monsters have to stick together."

"Bullshit," he said, hard and certain and sure, not wanting those words  lingering in the air, not even an echo. Because they were wrong, so  wrong. "You're not a fucking monster. If anyone's the monster here it's  that asshole standing behind you. And me. I'm the one you should be  pointing the finger at."

"Okay," Jericho said unexpectedly. "I think I've had about enough of  this." And with a smooth movement, he stepped around Violet and pushed  her behind him.         

     



 

Giving Elijah an unimpeded target.

"Theo, no!" She pulled at his arm, but he ignored her, keeping her behind him.

To anyone else there was a bored look in those green-gold eyes, yet  Elijah knew it wasn't. He saw deeper than that. Because he knew men like  this, had worked with them many times over the course of the years with  Fitzgerald. It wasn't boredom. It was emptiness.

The look of a man who'd sold his soul to the devil.

Whoever Theo Fitzgerald once was, he wasn't this man standing in front of him. Like Kane Archer, Theo Fitzgerald was dead.

"If you're going to fucking shoot me, you'd better shoot me." Jericho's  gaze was level and there was no fear in it. He looked like he'd stared  death in the face one too many times and had come to terms with the fact  that there was nothing to be afraid of.

Perhaps he even welcomes it.

No, he didn't want to acknowledge this bastard, he really didn't.

"My pleasure, asshole." Elijah lifted the gun. "This one's for Marie."

And then he made a mistake. He glanced at Violet, standing behind her  brother, and saw the tears streaming down her face. She didn't make a  sound.

She was his peace, but he wasn't hers. He only caused her sorrow. Pain.  He only hurt her. And if he shot Jericho, he'd keep on hurting her. Her  brother's death would be a wound that wouldn't heal, and he knew all  about those kinds of wounds.

He'd promised he wouldn't hurt her again.

What about Marie? What about that promise? Didn't you want peace?

And his heart cracked, a great jagged line going right down the middle  of it. Because he knew there would be no peace for him, no matter what  he did. Killing Jericho would lay Marie to rest, but it would shatter  Violet. Letting him live would spare Violet, but he'd have to live with  his wife's death forever.

He stared at Violet, at her vivid eyes, her wet cheeks, and her soft,  lush mouth. Bright and beautiful and alive. Hurting so much already. And  he knew there was no choice to make.

Marie was dead and had been for a very long time. He couldn't save her.  But he could give Violet this. Heal a little bit of her pain. It would  only be fair after everything she'd given him.

Slowly, Elijah lowered the Colt. He looked at Violet one last time,  memorizing everything about her so he could keep at least the memory of  her to last him.

Then he turned and walked out the door.





CHAPTER NINETEEN

Violet wiped futilely at the tears, scrubbing them all away with vicious swipes of her hand.

She shouldn't be crying, not now she'd made her choice and picked a  side. And it was the right choice, she knew that in her heart. Pity her  heart kept insisting it was broken and shouldn't be making any sort of  choices right now.

Theo was speaking on his phone to someone, his voice completely calm as  if he hadn't just faced down a man intent on putting a bullet in his  brain. He was again speaking in German and it sounded as if he was  issuing instructions.