Wreak Havoc (Black Rose Kisses #3) - Eva Ashwood Page 0,1

land on me in the rearview mirror before I can make much progress. “I’ll shoot you while we’re driving if I have to,” he says, voice emotionless.

This is the Sloan I remember from the first time we met. All business, no warmth or light or anything in his face. He’s serious, and I stop trying to escape and stare up at him in the rearview mirror instead.

He looks tired, but he’s pushing through it. Following his dad’s orders like he always has, clearly.

“I spent all this time thinking you were a monster,” I tell him, my voice low and rough. “I laid awake at night, tossing and turning in my bed, thinking about what you did. What I thought you did. Killing my father with no expression on your face, like you did it as easily as breathing. Like it came naturally to you. I didn’t even know how to be around someone like that.”

I swallow. My throat feels fucking parched, scratchy and painful.

“But then I realized I was wrong. You didn’t kill my dad. You weren’t that person.” He’s not looking at me, but I keep my gaze locked on the small part of his face I can see in the small mirror. “Maybe I wasn’t wrong, though. You’re going to do to me what I thought you did to him. With that same look on your face, like it doesn’t matter. Like I don’t matter. So maybe I was right all along. Maybe you are a monster with no feelings and no remorse at all.”

Nothing changes in Sloan’s face as he stares at me for a second and then glances back at the road.

“You’re not so fucking innocent,” he says, his voice strained. “Because of you, a man might have died today.” He shakes his head. “And if he’s not dead yet, he’ll probably wish he was soon, because the Jackals aren’t going to just let him be. He knows too much. They’re not just going to give him a comfortable room of his own and let him keep living his life peacefully until they get what they want.”

I catch the subtle jab at my own situation. Even though I was being used as collateral to make sure my dad did what they wanted, I was kept in a nice house—given food and basic necessities, and even allowed to keep going to school.

I was lucky, in the grand scheme of things.

“They’ll torture him for information, trying to find out as much as they can about our operation,” Sloan adds. His voice turns even sharper, like he’s trying to cut me with his words alone. “That’s all on you, Mercy.”

My stomach twists and bile climbs up my throat. I know he’s right. Whatever I thought or didn’t think, whatever happened or didn’t happen, that’s on me. A man’s life is about to be ended or ruined because I sold him out. That’s something I can’t make right, and even if somehow Sloan doesn’t kill me today, it’ll be on my conscience forever.

How can I even look my father or Scarlett or anyone in the eye, knowing what happened is my fault?

We leave the last outskirts of Fairview Heights, driving into the more forested areas that separate our big, crowded city from the next big, crowded city. I recognize the area as a place people like to go to hike and take their dogs to run, but we pass that pretty quickly, following a winding road until the pavement runs out, and I can hear gravel and dirt crunching under the tires of Sloan’s car.

We’re really off the beaten path now, going deeper and deeper into the woods. The trees start to get thicker around us, and pretty soon Sloan won’t be able to drive through them at all.

The late afternoon light barely filters through, making it a gloomy scene when he finally stops the car in front of a big tree and cuts the engine. The silence is deafening.

He gets out of the car, shutting his door before coming around to open mine. Before I can even think about trying to make a run for it, he’s grabbing my arm again, dragging me out.

My arm aches a little from his fingers digging into it so many times today. My wrists hurt from the ropes tied around them, and twisting them doesn’t make the rope get any looser.

I drag my feet a little, but it doesn’t stop Sloan as he pulls me away from the car and marches me even