Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,107

away with such terrible crimes. You think you’re looking at a fucking stand-­up member of society, like her dad, right? But you’re not. Everyone has secrets. You look into the darkness long enough, and you’ll finally see those secrets.”

Victoria’s hands had risen. She was clawing against Flynn’s hold. He just laughed. “I know her secret.”

Every muscle in Wade’s body had locked down. That bastard was not getting out of the alley with Victoria.

“She wants me, you know. She told me so. Sent me messages . . .”

“Victoria thought she was talking to me,” Wade yelled. He wanted to make his voice as loud as ­possible. Maybe someone in that line outside Wild Jokers would hear him. A bystander who would have enough sense to call the cops.

“Did she? Is that what you tell yourself?” Flynn pressed a kiss to Victoria’s temple. “I don’t think so. There’s been a connection between us from the beginning.”

“A connection . . .” Wade nodded. “Like the connection between you and Melissa Hastings?”

“Melissa . . . she was really his, not mine.”

His?

Shit, there were two killers. Two. Now it made more sense. Because Melissa had been taken before he and Victoria even arrived in Savannah. And Flynn had been in Atlanta then. So who had his partner been?

North?

Or . . .

“Though I have to confess,” Flynn added darkly, “I did enjoy playing with her—­and killing her. That was quite a rush.”

So someone else kidnapped her—­and you killed her? Bastard.

“I’m going to give you ten seconds,” Flynn called, “to get the fuck out of my way. Or she dies right here.”

Wade glanced over his shoulder. The alley behind him was empty. People were focused on getting into the bar, not on what was happening in the shadows. No one ever looked too closely at shadows. They walked past them, moving as fast as they could to avoid the darkness.

“Five seconds left . . .”

“You won’t do it,” Wade yelled back.

“Four.”

“You kill her, you lose your shield.” He was sweating.

“Three.”

“You kill her, then I will kill you with my bare hands.” An absolute promise. Think, think!

“Two . . .”

There was no fucking choice.

Wade spun away from them as if he were leaving the alley, giving Flynn just what he’d wanted.

Flynn’s mocking laughter filled the air. Keep laughing, asshole. You aren’t getting out of here. You—­

There was a thud behind Wade. The slam of flesh hitting flesh. Wade whirled back around. He saw Victoria on the ground, lying facedown. Flynn was fighting someone—­the shadowy figure that he had glimpsed creeping up behind the other man. Flynn was swinging his arm out, slashing down with the knife.

Wade lunged forward—­and went straight to Victoria. He rolled her over and saw that she had her hand to her throat. Was blood on her fingers? It was so damn dark, he couldn’t see clearly enough and his heart fucking stopped right then. Just stopped because she couldn’t die. He couldn’t lose her. This shit could not hap—­

“Help . . . Asher . . .” Victoria rasped.

He looked back over his shoulder and saw Flynn slash the man who’d attacked him—­Asher.

Asher was on the ground now. Flynn’s attention was completely on him. The bastard lifted his knife up high, and Wade leapt at him. Before Flynn could sink that knife into Asher again, Wade had slammed into his back. He and Flynn fell to the cement in a tangle and the knife clattered from Flynn’s hand.

Wade drove his fist into Flynn’s face and he heard the crunch of cartilage, but Flynn fought back, lifting his feet and driving them into Wade’s stomach. The wind was knocked from Wade as he flew back, but he didn’t even pause as he lunged right back at the SOB.

Flynn was on his feet now, circling around Wade. “You think you’re gonna win, Prince Charming? Think the hell again.”

“You don’t have your knife. I like my odds,” Wade fired right back. “Your ass isn’t getting away. You’re going to be locked in a jail cell for what you’ve done.”

Flynn laughed at him. His hands were fisted at his sides. “And Victoria will be with me. Because I’ll tell them what she did. I know.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“She killed her father. She confessed . . . confessed all to me.”

He didn’t believe that.

“She talks so much in bed,” Flynn taunted him. “Doesn’t she?”

Wade lunged at him. He caught Flynn and they went barreling back. Back and—­

Flynn drove a knife into Wade’s stomach.

“Didn’t think that was my only one, did