"Be careful," I murmured, propping myself up on my elbows as Vincent gathered his things.

"I will be," he told me, checking his gun over before tucking it into his waistband. "According to Dante, Graham has only been there for a few minutes."

"He has to know we found him."

Vincent's face was grim as he turned to face me. His eyes traced every inch of me he could see. And I knew what he was doing. Reminding himself that the reason I barely had the energy to move was because of Jack. That the reason Alana was gone was because of the man that we had been hunting relentlessly these past weeks.

"I wouldn't doubt it," he finally said, coming to sit next to me on the edge of the bed. He cupped the side of my face in his hand, running his thumb along my cheekbone. "But we'll go in prepared for it to be a trap."

"I don't like not going with you."

"I know." He leaned forward to press a kiss to my temple. "But I'm going to bring him back here. I'll let you know when to head downstairs. You know where the door to the basement is?"

"Yes." A shiver wracked my spine. I had been down there only a handful of times. With the bloodstains that apparently no amount of bleach could wash away, it wasn't my favorite area of the warehouse. How they kept everything so carefully hidden from authorities would never cease to surprise me.

"Good." He turned to leave, but my hand moved without my brain giving it permission to. He stopped, glancing down at where I was clutching his forearm. His features smoothed out, and when he met my gaze, I could see my own worry reflected back at me. He covered my hand with his, squeezing my fingers. "I'm coming back, Juliette. I promise."

"You had better."

The kiss he gave me seared me down to my bones. And then he was gone. Off to corner and capture the bane of our existence.

Once he was gone, an eerie stillness settled over the apartment. It took all of five minutes before I was kicking the blankets off of me and hunting down my clothes. Like hell I'd just sit up here and wait for them. There were things that needed to be set in motion. Prepared. And if the boys were with Vincent, I was going to make sure everything was ready when they returned.

Dexter whined as I struggled to get my boots on. My entire body was stiff, but I gritted my teeth and pushed through it. Before I could stand up, Dexter put his big head in my lap. He stared me down, and I could almost feel the refusal to let me leave. My eyes rolled. Two weeks with Vincent, and my dog had completely turned against me.

"I've got to go, Dex," I murmured, scratching him behind the ears. "I'll be home soon."

He whined again but turned and walked out of the room. I could hear him huff as he walked down the stairs.

Drama queen.

A groan heaved out of me as I stood. My first stop was in the master bathroom. I took three pain relievers and crossed my fingers that they would kick in soon. Then I was down the stairs and out the door before I could think too hard about what I was doing.

Brandon's door opened on the second knock.

"Jules, you're supposed to be resting," he scolded.

"Where's Angel?"

"She two doors down on the right," Devyn said before Brandon could open his mouth again. She shouldered her way past him, and he grunted when her elbow caught him in the gut. "Are you okay?"

"I've been better." I gave her a smile, pulling her in for a hug. My bones protested against how tight she held me, but I just pulled her in tighter. "Are you okay?"

"Brandon pulled me away in plenty of time. My ears are ringing a little, but that's it."

"Jules," the man in question butted in. "You really shouldn't be up and moving yet. Give your body some time to recover."

"Later," I told him, already turning for Angelica's apartment. "I have shit to do."

"Like what?"

I ignored him, raising my hand to knock gently against Angelica's door. I could hear some shuffling on the other side, and before too long the door opened just a crack. The one blue eye I could see glittered, and she swung the door fully open with a smirk twisting one side of her mouth.

"You look like hell," she said, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe.

"Because you look like a bouquet of roses."

She chuckled, wincing before placing a hand against her ribs. "What can I help you with?"

"How're you feeling?"

"Like I got blown up. What do you need, Jules?"

"Basement. They're bringing Jack back."

Hatred flared in those sapphire irises. Without a word, she grabbed her jacket off the back of the door and shrugged it on. In less time than it took to take a breath, she had her keys in her hand and her door locked behind her. She didn't wait for me as she strode for the stairs leading down into the main part of the warehouse.

Brandon looked like we were torturing him as he threw his hands up. "This is why I dropped out of med school. Ungrateful patients."

"You dropped out of med school because you were making more money with us," Angelica threw over her shoulder before vanishing from sight.

Brandon glared after her. He shook his head, turning to head back into his apartment. He glanced back at me. "I'll meet you down there in five. I just need to put some clothes on."

And for the first time, I noticed that he didn't have a shirt on. My eyes trailed to my best friend. As my gaze raked over her, her cheeks tinted pink. Because that was one-hundred percent Brandon's shirt that was dwarfing her petite figure.

"One of these days, we're going to get that coffee and have a little chat," I told her, trying to keep the sly smile off my face.

"I'm going back to bed," she muttered. But that was a glimmer of undiluted happiness in her eyes as she turned to follow Brandon. My heart warmed at the thought of her finally finding someone to instill that feeling in her.

Angelica's head popped back out from the stairwell. "You coming?" she asked.

Nodding, I made my way over to her. Her movements were stiff, just as I was sure mine were. But we descended into the heart of the warehouse. Heads lifted when we came into view, then dipped as the gazes met mine. My eyes scrutinized who was there. Lucas and Arkin were both missing, and I knew Dante was with them as well.

"Pick a team, Angel," I told her, aiming for the lone door on the far-right side of the warehouse. It was almost directly across from Vincent's office. "Gods know what they plan to do with him once they get him here, but we're going to need help."

She nodded before heading off to corral a couple of the gang. My steps faltered only once I was in front of the door. That same shiver tiptoed around the nape of my neck, but I forced it back. As much as I hated the room at the bottom of these stairs, I needed to get down there. I had a room to prep.

* * * * *

"You've been watching too many horror movies," Angelica said, surveying the room as the last of the guys filtered out, leaving us alone. "Or maybe too many crime-dramas."

"This is exactly what it looks like every time I've been down here. Shut up."

She gave me a crooked little half smile before leaning against the stainless-steel table we had set up. The only thing I had really needed help with was bringing the table and chair into the room from the storage down the hall. It had been long enough since we had anyone we needed to get information from that we had put everything up. Normally, I probably could've managed it with just Angelica. However, in both of our states it was easier to use the others. My muscles were screaming just from the few flights of stairs.

Angelica's eyes went unfocused as she stared at the chair that was sitting under a single bulb in the small concrete room. I almost snorted. With the stains on the floor – that I was pretty sure Vincent didn't paint over simply as a scare tactic – she was right. It looked like a cheap haunted house set up. But the knives, hammers, and scissors on the table behind her were real. And if they were used tonight, the new blood on the floor would be too.

But there was something about that vacant look in her eyes. Something I had seen in the mirror one too many times after my parent's deaths.

"Angel?" I asked, moving to stand next to her. She blinked a few times and twisted to face me. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Her voice was soft, something I didn't normally attribute to the woman standing next to me.

"You get this look in your eyes every time something about Jack is brought up. Most of the gang hate him, for obvious reasons. But yours seems . . . personal."

Her eyes shuttered, and she turned away from me. Her jaw clenched tight, throat bobbing as she swallowed. I wasn't sure what to do, but I reached for her hand where it was balled into a fist against her thigh. Her spine went rigid at my touch. It only took a few seconds for her to take a deep breath, and when she let it out, she opened her palm so I could thread our fingers together. I was offering her the only thing that I could: support.

"It is personal for me," she murmured after a few minutes. "I was in love with Alana. We'd been together for two years." My heart split in two as tears filled her eyes. They overflowed, and she didn't bother to wipe them away as she met my stare. Her hand turned into a vice around mine. "He took her from all of us. She was the light in this place, and I won't rest until he's dead. Learning he's still alive after all this time –"

She was cut off as my phone started ringing. Giving her an apologetic smile, I answered with the hand she wasn't holding. She could borrow from my strength for as long as she needed.

"Hello?"

"We've got him." The satisfaction in Vincent's voice warmed me down to my core. "We're headed back."

"Angelica and I already have the basement ready."

"Why am I not surprised?" he grumbled, and I could all but feel him rolling his eyes at me. "How long did you actually stay in bed after I left?"

"A minute or two."

"Once this is dealt with, we're going to have a talk about your ability to listen."

"Oh?"

"Princess," he purred, and I heard the engine turn over in the background. "If you don't reign in that attitude, you're going to be put right back on bedrest."

Angelica's eyebrows arched, and my face went scarlet as I realized she could hear every word he was saying. "I'll see you soon."

"Is Angel staying?"

"I think she deserves to."

"So, she told you?" he asked.

"She did." I squeezed her hand. "I want her to be the first one to go at him." Her eyes went round at my words.

"Consider it done. We'll be there in ten."

When we hung up, Angelica blew out a breath. She released my hand in favor of running both of hers through her hair.

"Ten minutes," I told her. She nodded, squaring her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said. "I never would have had the balls to ask him for that, no matter how much I wanted it. Thank you."

"Of course."

We didn't speak much after that. The more time that past, the more my heart rate kicked up. Taking a steadying breath, I turned to start toying with the instruments on the table. I had to get it together. This was why I had been coming down here with Vincent and the others. To develop a stomach for the torture. As much as I cared for each and every person under our roof, I hadn't grown up in this life. I wasn't used to beating the living shit out of people to find out what they knew. To find out if they knew where Jack had gone – who his contacts were. How he had gotten into the party in the first place.

But I did know that when it came to Jack, I couldn't balk. Not the way I had the first time I had watched Brandon remove the skin off a man's forearm with a surgeon's precision. Jack deserved everything that was coming to him tonight. By any of our hands. And I wasn't going to let my squeamish stomach get in the way of that.

I could see the tension in Angelica's shoulders. How her eyes glittered as she ran her fingers over one of the hunting knives on the table. The blade was a wicked thing, and she touched the handle with reverence. Despite everything, a smile quirked the corner of my mouth. Something told me I was going to have to stop her at some point. Otherwise, she might just kill Jack before we got anything useful out of him. And who could blame her?

My hands still itched whenever I thought about the man that had stabbed Vincent. If I ever found out who it was, I knew I wouldn't hesitate to spill a little blood of my own.

Aside from Jack, there was only one other person I knew for certain I would inevitably find myself facing down with a gun in my hand. Jack's life debt belonged to Vincent and Angelica. But the man who killed my father? I'd be collecting that one myself.

My thoughts were cut short as the door to the hall opened. The old hinges protested, letting out a shriek loud enough for a banshee. I snapped around, my head spinning a little when I came to a stop. My eyes found Vincent's first. His face was frozen into that harsh mask, but my heart still beat out a stutter step as I let out a breath of relief. I knew he had been okay, but it was still good to see with my own eyes. He had a bruise blooming on his right cheekbone, but other than that he seemed fine.

Finally, I let my gaze drift to the man he was pushing in front of him. Jack's hands were bound behind his back, and he stumbled a bit as Vincent shoved him forward. It was the first time I had ever seen them in the same proximity, and it was jarring to find that they were the same height. Vincent always seemed to dwarf me with his presence, but I had never felt that with Jack. When those tawny eyes met mine, I lost the ability to breathe. Not in the same way I always did with Vincent.

No.

This was grief.

The pain of losing someone I had thought I had known. Trusted. It was slamming into me all over again, and I felt the sting of my eyes watering.

And Jack – damn him – that was regret. Not for what he had done to the people around us. Not for the sister he had stolen from the man behind him. Not for the partner he had ripped from the woman behind me. But for me. For the friendship that had been destroyed so completely, there was no coming back from it.

He was so selfish.

My body moved without my permission. Before the door even closed behind them, my fist was flying. Vincent stepping back barely registered. Jack's nose crunched under the force of my assault. A low curse flew out of him, but he didn't try to dodge as I immediately stuck him in the jaw as well. More than once.

My chest was heaving. My knuckles were split, and I couldn't tell if it was my blood or Jack's that dripped off of my hand as it hung limp at my side. No one said a word as we stared at each other, neither of us daring to look away.

We were standing on opposite sides of a chasm, and we both knew it. That warmth that I had always taken comfort in bled from his eyes. Slowly, so slowly, I saw the man I knew fade away for the last time. And then I was looking into the eyes of a murderer. Of a man who would kill anyone who stood in the way of what he thought he was owed – myself included. He spat blood onto the floor at my feet, and a wry grin overtook his mouth.

"Well, well," he crooned, eyes running over me in a way that made my skin crawl. "Looks like all those hours on the mat paid off. Huh, Jules?"

"You have no idea," I hissed, eyes narrowing into slits. The door opened again, and I briefly took notice of Dante, Lucas, Arkin, and Brandon entering the room. They fanned out at my back, and I let the reassurance of their presence wash over me. "But you will."

"I'm shaking."

"You should be." I stepped forward, bringing us chest to chest. He glared down at me, and the trepidation in his face made me smile. "Because you won't be leaving this room alive."

_______________________________________________________

Angelica is an interesting character. Never planned on her, but I love her.

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Erin