You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 163

BLAYNE

"The boys are still searching, but so far, there's been no progress."

I poured some wine into my glass, the quantity a little more than was required. I drank clumsily and the wine sluiced over the lip, running down my white turtleneck.

"Damn it!" I hurled the bottle at the wall and the last of the wine fanned out and stippled the paint.

My fingers dug through my hair as I turned around to face the bunch of losers that had the nerves to breathe in the room with me.

"And you're here because? I thought I gave strict instructions not to return until she's found?" God, I was trying. Trying so fucking hard not to lose it and grab the gun that had been itching for attention.

"We're sorry. I promise you, we searched all night. We really don't understand how she managed to get past us."

I turned to the window and let the laugh happen, raking my fingers through the mess on my head.

"So, you're telling me my girl suddenly vanished into thin air?"

I tucked my hands in my pant pocket as I faced them again. "You found and killed all four. Excellent. But the very one whose life is more important than every one of you put together is nowhere to be seen? Have you fucking lost your minds!?"

They kept their heads low. "Do you even realize who she is? What I had to do to get her? Oh, I swear to fuck, if she somehow manages to get away, I'll skin you alive! Every fucking one of you! Now get your ugly faces out of here and go find the bitch!"

They departed at once. Fucking losers.

I kicked my chair as I walked to the table and poured another drink with hands that wanted violence.

"You should calm down. I'm sure she'll be found," Lucien spoke from the far end of the room where he'd been leaning the whole time.

"It's fucking weekend! The Ash bastards would be here tonight. What am I supposed to tell them?"

I poured angrily into my mouth. Damn it. I couldn't wait to lay my hands on the little bitch.

The door opened again to one of my closest men entering the room. The expression on his face told me I had more things to worry about.

"Blade, Lyon and his people were hit at his penthouse last night. It was a bloodbath. Hours later, Cazza and his people were killed as well. This happened not too long ago."

My half glass of wine stayed seated in my hand, gripped tightly as I stared blankly at his face while the words took the long way to my head.

"Any survivors?" Lucien asked for me.

"None. Every single one of them was murdered gruesomely. This is the third massacre in two days. And we still don't know who is responsible."

Lucien fixed me with a look that asked for answers. "Who the fuck is doing this?"

I set the glass down too slowly. Cold scaled from the base of my skull to my mouth. I was shocked no one watched it move.

"Caza knows this location." The words left my mouth cold and came back hollow in my ear. "The others didn't. Caza did."

Lucien pushed away the wall. "What're you saying?"

Not looking at him, I tucked my hands into my pockets as I walked over to the window. I stared into a scrubbed-blue morning, a skein of birds cutting east, and men with rifles ghosting the yard, muzzles nosing the air.

And under that clean sky a picture narrowed in my head: a boy who somehow, always bent luck around him and refused death.

I remembered him escaping multiple abductions as a kid. Remembered the one time someone tried to shoot him to get even at mama. He'd been fast enough to detect the person and ducked just in time for the bullet to hit someone else. Boy was just nine, yet he'd been more sensitive than the grown men mama put around us.

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