A Light in the Darkness (Embrace the Darkness Book 3) by Carly Claire

Author:Carly Claire [Claire, Carly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-07-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter thirty-four

Remy

“She’s safe.”

I stare at Kent for a minute, not sure I heard him or if I just hallucinated that. He’s nodding, his face serious as he stands, letting out a long sigh. “Dimitri is on the ground. He’ll be with her in ten minutes or less. Massarini has her.”

All at once, all of the rage and fear that has been building up in me, doubling with each second that I imagined her slipping away from me, wooshes away from me. It happens so fast that I get a head rush and have to drop my head to abate the sudden dizziness as I drop back into the chair I started to rise from.

“You crying?” Wes mocks, chuckling. “That’s cute.”

“I’m not crying, fuckface. And I don’t have any use for you anymore, so you should watch your back as we get off the jet. My knife may just slip between your ribs.”

“Your girl turned you into a knife man?” He muses, not the least bothered by my threat. “She is particularly stabby. I’ve never known a woman to like knives as much as her.”

“You’d like them too if it gave you power over a limp dick man who uses you for his own enjoyment.”

“Bold of you to assume I haven’t needed power over a limp dick man before.” He taunts, plucking at his collar. “You’ve had it so easy your whole life, Boudreaux, and you don’t even see it.”

“Easy?” I snort. “Nothing about my life has been easy.”

“Sure.”

“There you go,” Wes laughs. It’s a derisive sound aimed to get under my skin, to spoil the relief I feel at the news that Claire is safe. “Always trying to play the victim, the martyr. You don’t even know what a real victim is.”

I’m not sure exactly which part triggers me to jump to my feet, ready to pummel him into the seat he’s in, because I’m on my feet before the last word even makes it past his lips.

“I don’t know what a real victim is?” I laugh too, matching him like for like. “Tell that to the sixty refugees under my care.” It occurs to me that it’s a lie—I haven’t cared for them at all—but I don’t backtrack. “Tell that to the men and women who were kept like cattle to be used for some sick, rich fucks to play with.” My voice cracks, and I work to get air through my nose. “I thought what I knew was bad and it’s only gotten so much fucking worse! I don’t know how, but it did.”

My stomach roils at the stench in Davos’ prison cells, at the a la carte menu emblazoned in my mind, at the sight of Kaia taking her last struggling breaths, the girl who John Smith had been violating from childhood. I’d thought it couldn’t get any worse than that, but it got worse in a different way. Meeting Violet, hearing Wes’ claim about what they did to her mother—to Claire’s mother. Ripping a child from

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