"Don't fucking run from us. Please, baby, you need to hear us out."
For a moment, I thought he'd got through to her. Those violet-blue eyes of hers flickered with pain—and any emotion was better than the cool mask shuttering her true feelings away. But as quickly as it came, it shut back down. Her eyes flicked away from Steele like he no longer existed in her world.
"Go," she ordered Cass in a whip-crack voice, "there's nothing left for me here."
He was smarter than that, though—certainly smart enough that he hesitated and his brow creased ever so slightly with indecision.
"Boss?" he asked Zane, seeking direction.
"You can't be fucking serious!" Kody exploded, shaking his head in disbelief. "Arch, do something. You know you can."
Zane met my gaze, his lips curled in a smug grin of victory, and sour hatred filled my body. I wanted to kill him so fucking bad. The only reason he was still breathing was that he served a purpose in running the Reapers. That usefulness was fast running out.
"MK, come on," Steele tried again, taking two steps closer to where she perched on the back of Cass's motorcycle. "Please, trust us. Don't run."
"Archer!" Kody snapped. "Say something. Fucking anything."
But what the fuck could I say? Zane hadn't lied. He hadn't even misled her, although I had no idea what was in those papers, what proof he'd provided. But it didn't matter, did it? Money had changed hands, her piece-of-shit father had had his bad debts cleared and his life saved. All it’d cost him was his only child.
What a bargain.
When I said nothing, Kate's curiosity won out. I’d known it would. Her eyes met mine for one tense, soul-destroying moment. Her expression was shuttered, her pain and fury tucked carefully away behind a mask of indifference, but I knew it was there. She couldn't hide from me.
"Let her go," I finally said, holding her gaze and giving away nothing in my own. Two peas in a pod, we were. A match forged in the blood-drenched bowels of Hell.
"What?" Kody exclaimed at the same time as Steele shouted a curse.
I let a small smile touch my lips because if there was one thing I was good at, it was getting under my wife's skin. All the better now that she knew the truth. We were married and had been for over a year.
Happy belated anniversary, babe.
"Let her go," I repeated, bleeding smug satisfaction into my smile and locking down all the howling pain inside me. "She knows she can't escape me forever."
This provoked a reaction from her, just as I’d expected. It was small, just a fractional lift of her brows, but the message she conveyed was clear.
Bring it on, motherfucker.
The roar of motorcycle engines filled the air as Zane and Cass took off, carrying my wife with them, and I did nothing to stop them. My vicious plans were abandoned as quickly as they'd been formed because there was no way I'd shoot out their tires when she was involved.
They knew it too, those bastards. Kate was their shield, and they'd keep her close to save themselves from my retaliation. That knowledge both infuriated me and eased my mind. As badly as I wanted to tear carnage through the Reapers for this breach of the rules, for this literal act of war against me... I couldn't. They'd keep her safe, guarded, protected, and that was something I'd failed miserably at recently.
Maybe she would be better off with Zane and his gang of criminal misfits, at least until we could neutralize the threats against her.
The three of us stood there in silence as the two bikes disappeared through the main gates of our estate, then Kody turned to me with an accusation clearly written all over his face.
I closed my eyes, but didn't flinch. I knew what was coming well before his fist met my cheek, snapping my head back and making my ears ring.
I deserved that. And more.
"This is on you, Arch," he seethed, glaring daggers as I squinted back at him and dabbed my lip. He'd split it open, but I'd wager he wanted to do a whole lot worse. "This whole fucking mess could have been avoided if you'd been honest with her from day fucking one!"
I gave him a casual shrug, totally at odds with the screaming turmoil inside me. "Well, you know what they say about crying over spilled milk. She'll get over it."
This time I didn't see the punch coming—despite how badly I