Dominic Grey
I’ve been fed up in this goddamn prison. The walls stink of sweat, piss, and regret. Men in here rot like bad meat, but me? I’m just aging like rum — still dangerous, still potent, still ready to burn your throat when I hit. Speaking of rum… hell, I wonder what it tastes like now. My tongue remembers it sharp and warm, the kind that bites back. Here, all I get is this tasteless swill they call water. No ice. No burn. Just emptiness. Years I’ve been locked in here, watching my hair go a little more silver, watching my knuckles itch for a trigger they can’t touch. I’ve missed the outside world — the streets breathing under neon lights, the sound of a gunshot echoing in an alley, the sweet thump of a man dropping after I put one in him. And yeah, I’ve missed that one good feeling — tugging cigarette smoke into my lungs while my other hand handled the business end of payback.Chapter 117Jace“Jewel—” My throat tore with her name as my fist hammered the wood. “Jewel Grey, open this door this instant!”My voice ricocheted down the hallway, louder than I’d ever meant it to be, but I didn’t care. Fear sharpened every syllable, made my chest quake with the weight of it.I pressed my ear to the door for the smallest sound, anything—but the silence on the other side was louder than my shouting. It hollowed me out.“Goddammit!” I snarled, slamming my palm flat against the knob as Rick shouldered it again. My hands shook. My pulse hammered so hard it hurt.“Hold on,” I muttered under my breath—not to Rick, not even to myself. To her. Always to her.And then I stepped back, jaw clenched tight, ready to break the whole thing apart if that’s what it took.The wood groaned under Rick’s shoulder, but it still wouldn’t give. My breath was ragged, every nerve lit up with dread.Then—footsteps, quick and heavy. Matt came barreling down the hall, gun already drawn. His fac
Chapter 116Rick The door’s cracked just enough for me to hear it all. Her cries. His voice—low, rough, cutting through the silence like a blade. Bunny. The way he said it makes my stomach twist.I should walk away. I should leave them to whatever dangerous closeness they’re tangled in. But I can’t. My feet won’t move. My hand rests on the doorframe, knuckles white.And then it happens. The shift. The silence.I hear the muffled sound of her locking herself away again—retreating, shutting down. Jewel’s always done that. When the world’s too loud, too violent, she cages herself inside her own skin, and no one gets in. Not even me.I press my forehead to the wood. My breath comes out ragged. “Jewel…” I whisper, even if she can’t hear me. Or maybe she can, and she just won’t answer.Because the truth is—I’m always here. By the door. Waiting for her to open it. Waiting for her to see I’ve been here all along, ready to catch her before she breaks herself to pieces.But she doesn’t. She lo
Chapter 115Dominic I stand by the doorway, silent as Rick’s words echo in the room. My chest tightens watching her sway in his arms—skin pale, lips cracked, eyes empty. Jewel is slipping, and I know it. She’s not just grieving anymore; she’s fading.“She’s gotten critical,” I mutter under my breath, more to myself than anyone, but Rick hears it. His jaw tightens, clutching her like he’s afraid I’ll take her away. Maybe I should. Maybe she needs something more than being coddled—she needs saving, and neither of us are enough.I step forward, looking at her sunken face, at the girl who used to carry fire in her eyes. “I won’t lose you too,” I whisper, though my voice comes out harder than I meant. “Not after your mother. Not after Jaxon. I’ll drag you back into this world if I have to.”Her head lolls against Rick’s chest, barely responsive. My fists clench. It feels like Christopher Bishop isn’t just killing us with bullets—he’s killing us slow, from the inside out.I pause at the do
Chapter 114Dominic It has been a long time since I breathed the air outside of concrete walls and iron bars. Freedom, they call it. To me, it feels more like standing in the ashes of a fire that refuses to die.The weeks that followed my escape blurred into a heavy silence. Jaxon… the boy who grew beside me like my own flesh and blood, was torn away. Murdered by Christopher Bishop. His death was not just a strike against us—it hollowed out the marrow of this family. And now Jewel… the girl who still clings to life by a thread, branded with depression like it’s her final inheritance. She is fading, and I can’t even lift her out.I may look untouched, as if none of this shakes me. But I burn inside. I am working from behind the shadows, my hands already dipped in plans, in bullets, in blood. Christopher thinks he can strip me bare—first with Alice, my wife, ripped from me… and now with Jaxon, slaughtered as if he were nothing.He has taken too much. And I will take back the only thing
Chapter 113JaceI love to take care of her. God knows I’d lock the world out and stay by her side if it meant keeping her breathing steady, her hands warm, her eyes alive. But I can’t—not with the operation still moving against the Bishops. Not when Jaxon’s death is a wound we haven’t avenged yet. Every second wasted is another risk, another strike we don’t see coming.So I did the one thing that tore me apart more than leaving her alone—I assigned Rick to her, exclusively. His hands, his voice, his watchful eyes would be hers when I couldn’t.Because Jewel is unraveling. I see it in her silence, in the way she stares too long at nothing, in the way she flinches at shadows. She is showing signs of wanting to end it, to slip away like Jaxon did—but slower, quieter, without warning.And I can’t let her. Even if I’m not the one guarding her in every moment, she has to live.RickI knew what Jace was doing the moment his eyes landed on me. He didn’t have to say it outright—he never does.
Chapter 112Rick Her breaths rattled like a broken engine, too fast, too shallow. My gut twisted watching her fight her own body.“Jewel—listen to me,” I said firmly, catching her trembling hand in mine. My thumb pressed circles into her palm, grounding, steady. “You don’t need all that air. Just slow… right here with me. In through your nose—out through your mouth. Like this.” I exaggerated a slow breath, making sure she could see my chest rise and fall.Her fingers clawed weakly at my wrist, but that was good—it meant she was still here, still reaching. Matt counted in even tones, but I leaned closer, softening my voice just for her. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. No one’s leaving.”I saw her lips twitch, shaky, but trying to follow. A breath hitched, then another. Her shoulders still shook, but I kept her anchored, murmuring with every second, dragging her back to us.“Atta girl. That’s it. Just stay with me.”RickHer chest stuttered, each breath a broken gasp. I was still guiding h