The Reign Of Kings - Candice Wright Page 0,104

road. Opening the back door, he places his hand on my head for me to dip inside.

“You know, I really am innocent,” I tell him, ignoring the guy in the driver’s seat as I focus on the detective.

A look of regret crosses his features briefly before disappearing.

“I know,” he answers, closing the door and tapping the roof.

“What the hell? You heard that, right?” I yell through the grate separating me from the driver. “He said he knew I was innocent, so why the hell am I being arrested?” I snap, frustrated.

The guy looks up, his eyes locking with mine in the rearview mirror before they return to the main road, but it’s enough for the bile to rush up the back of my throat.

“You? How, why?”

Of all the people I thought it could be, Jake Rowlins, Owen’s competition for the detective position, was not one of them.

I bend over and throw up in the footwell before I can do anything else, just managing to avoid splashing it on myself. I sit up and twist, trying to open the door. But, of course, it’s a cop car and doesn’t open from the inside, so I start hammering on the glass.

“Now, Reign, is there really any need for such dramatics?” Jake sighs before he slams on the breaks. My body flies forward, my head hitting the partition so hard, it makes my vision blur.

“Be a good girl, Reign. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see,” he tells me as the edges of my vision narrow and I lose the battle to stay awake.

Chapter Forty-One

Reign

When I come to, it’s to find myself lying on a bed in what looks like a run-down shack. My hands are cuffed to the metal headboard above my head, but even so, it doesn’t stop me from pulling and yanking until I can feel the metal cut into my skin and blood coat my fingers.

The door opens, making my movements freeze as Jake walks through carrying a tray holding a bottle of water, an apple, and a sandwich. He places it on the floor beside the bed.

“I promised I would wait but, Reign, how you tempt a man.” He sighs, rubbing his hand over his bulge.

“Touch her and die.”

I’d been so focused on Jake I’d failed to notice the man who entered behind him.

“Garrett,” I whisper. Jesus, fuck, I never thought I’d be relieved to see him of all people.

“Hello, Raindrop,” he whispers, using the name my brothers and father call me.

“Sorry, Captain, but you have to admit, she looks fucking delectable all spread out like this. I can’t wait to feel her tight pussy fisting my cock—” Jake’s words cut off as Garrett’s fist smashes into his face, making him fall backward to the floor.

I feel tears slip over my cheeks when the reality of my situation unravels—Garrett’s not here to save me. He and Jake are in it together.

“What the fuck, man? I did everything you asked of me. You swore I would get a piece,” Jake bites out, but freezes when Garrett pulls his gun and points it at him.

“I let you fuck those others so a match could be made to your DNA found at the last scene. I just left the notes.” Garrett smirks, his eyes cold as ice.

“I didn’t leave any evidence and you know it,” Jake spits out, trying to get up.

“Are you sure about that?” Garrett taunts.

Jake looks at him with dread-filled eyes. “You set me up?” He sounds genuinely surprised, although I don’t know why. Garrett is clearly a nut job. “But how?”

“It’s all about misdirection, Jake. I need people to look one way so I can go the other. I made sure your DNA was found at the last scene, which should have been recovered right about now. Add to that, Travis and I were shot at and I have an airtight alibi for the night her house was trashed. Well, I couldn’t possibly be the perpetrator, now could I?” He smiles.

“But I did everything you asked, exactly how you told me to,” Jake retorts, but his voice wavers now as his situation sinks in.

“I know,” Garrett replies before pulling the trigger and blowing out the back of Jake’s brain.

Whimpering, I turn my head away, as my ears ring from the deafening noise. I want to scream, but shock renders me mute. The callous and senseless violence scorched into my brain, serving as a horrifying prelude of things to come.

The bed sinks beside me, then Garrett’s fingers

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