Please read note at the end if you are looking for an explanation for my absence.

+++++

Chapter Twelve

"Sleep baby sleep,

What are you waiting for?

The morning is on its way,

You know it's only just a dream,

Oh sleep baby sleep,

I lie next to you,

The beauty of this mess is that it brings me close to you"

— BROODS "Sleep Baby Sleep"

There is something awfully dehumanizing about making someone beg. The act of begging itself: to ask earnestly or humbly, stems from wholehearted desperation. I find that more often than not, when one is reduced to depending upon this action, it is because one has lost almost all hope, and is dangling by a thread.

To stare into someone's eyes while they plead with you and feel absolutely nothing.

It shouldn't be possible.

It shouldn't be possible to feel nothing. To look into someone's eyes, which are often referred to as the windows to one's soul, and feel nothing.

It shouldn't be possible; but it is.

It should not have been possible, but it was.

I should have felt sick. I should have felt my stomach twist and my heart thunder away in my chest. My palms should have been clammy and my conscience should have been screaming at me to not do this.

But there was nothing. I only knew what I should be feeling, and that wasn't enough to make me feel anything.

"I'm begging you," the man whispered. "Please don't do this. Please, please have mercy on me."

My eyes lingered on his for only a moment longer, before they shifted to Nick. He stood only about a foot in front of the crowd that watched, with Nate and Kate standing behind them. I felt a brief flicker of confusion when I noticed that Nate's wrists were bound behind his back, while Kate stood there freely.

"We don't have all day," Nick practically sang out. "Are you going to kill this man or not?"

The gun felt heavy in my hand, but I maintained a firm grasp on it. My pointer finger trailed the trigger, and out of the corner of my eye, I watched the man close his eyes. Tears had trickled down his face, and his shoulders had already slumped down in defeat.

"Don't do this Evie."

His voice made my eyes flash over to him instantly. His eyes were full of concern and worry, and his tone demanded me to listen to him. I felt my head tilt slightly to the side as I took in Nate's unkempt appearance.

There was a sly smirk on his face, one that was hardly noticeable but there nonetheless. His stare was daring, almost challenging. He wanted me to cave. Not just that, he expected me to.

"This is not you," he tried again, his voice rising in volume when my eyes moved back to the man in front of me. "You are not this girl. I know you." His voice was strained and I could see him struggling against a man who was holding him back. It seemed that Nate believed that he would be able to reason with me if he was near me.

"You're right." My voice came out clear, despite its lack of volume. "I'm not this girl."

The man's eyes opened in surprise, hope shining through his tear filled gaze.

I couldn't give Nick what he wanted.

I wouldn't.

The sound of the bullet piercing the air, the way my arm shook from the kickback, the way my heart beat dropped but forced itself to steady; it all happened in a matter of seconds.

I watched as his expression dropped and his body hit the floor with a sickening thud.

I watched as the life left him.

My eyes moved to Nate's.

"I'm worse."

+++++

Sebastian King had returned.

He could feel power in every step he took as he walked around the room, checking each table that was organized with blueprints of the house and other information that Mason had put together for him and his men.

He owed Mason massively.

He only wished that Mason would have been able to be there with him, knowing that Mason cared for Evie just as much as anyone else. But Sebastian could not wait any longer.

He had called in his men while he drove home from the hospital, and immediately alerted Danny to do the same when he arrived. For the first time in nearly five days, Sebastian and Danny were working together, and they were a force to be reckoned with.

"It's nearly half past nine," Callum announced, approaching Sebastian. "We have gathered all of our supplies for the attack. The teams know exactly what they need to do, and it seems that each and every man has the blueprint of the house memorized like the back of their hand."

Sebastian nodded, unable to describe the onslaught of emotions that overtook him.

"It just comes down to this," Callum continued, "Now or tomorrow? When are we going to get her back?"

Sebastian hesitated for a moment before his eyes met Danny's across the room. Danny nodded quickly and excused himself from the men he was talking to.

"I can't believe this is happening," Danny muttered when he got to Sebastian, disbelief evident on his features. Danny's heart had been pounding thunderously in his chest ever since Sebastian had called him.

Mason had found her.

"Tonight or tomorrow?" Sebastian could hardly form a proper sentence as his mind raced. Despite having practically all the information in the world on her whereabouts, the outcome of this entire situation was purely chance.

If they waited too long, they risked losing her again. If they acted immediately, they would be acting on lack of sleep, rushed information and preparation, and the risk was just the same – they could lose Evie.

Danny seemed to be considering the same consequences as he looked around the room. The men were speaking in hushed whispers, and Danny couldn't help but feel immense pride at seeing them all work so dutifully. When his dad was leader, he ruled with an iron fist. The men that worked for him were his servants, and that was something Danny sought to change when he took over.

These men were family, though at times he failed to remember that. While Evie was easily his top priority, he still cared for every man in that room who had come at his call to rescue his sister. Any misstep in this situation could be fatal.

"I say tomorrow," Danny finally forced out. He felt himself internally reject the idea of waiting longer, but he knew it was for the best. With more time, the men would be significantly more prepared to take on Nick and his men. But the ache in his chest caused him to falter, and he cautiously regarded Sebastian for his response.

Sebastian's jaw was locked, and his eyes were dark as he undoubtedly debated whether Danny's plan was best. Callum's expression was mirrored how Danny felt internally; yet his lips remained in a firm line.

Callum knew better than to offer his two cents. Having almost lost Mason, he could understand the caution; however, in the pit of his stomach, he found it incredibly difficult to wait even longer before taking action.

"We will wait then." Sebastian said after minutes of treacherous silence.

Danny's eyebrows rose in surprise and he instantly glanced at Callum, who had continued to stand in absolute silence despite the similar shock that had entered his body.

"You're her brother," Sebastian said, as if he was offering an explanation for his choice. "You want her back as much as I do, and so I know whatever your plan is, is what is best for Evie."

Danny felt as though the air had been kicked from his chest. He was overwhelmed by the tsunami of emotions that had crashed into him. Sebastian's decision to agree with him caught him off guard. The mere thought of rescuing Evie was almost impossible to grasp. The worry that overtook him when he thought of her was debilitating. Physically, he knew she could hold her ground; mentally, however, his stomach twisted.

There was something wrong. He knew it, and although he couldn't say exactly what was wrong, he knew she wasn't okay.

"Tomorrow then," Danny muttered with a tone of finality.

Callum's expression remained stoic, and he cast his eyes out to the dozens of men who were glancing over at the three men every now and then as they went over the plan.

"Listen up," Sebastian called out, causing silence to envelop the room. "We have decided that it would be best to wait until tomorrow. Until then, I expect everyone to get rest, go over the plan, and be as prepared as possible for the inevitable bloodbath that will occur."

Most of the men nodded in understanding, yet there as a general look of surprise and confusion that had crossed their expressions.

"Sebastian," Callum's voice broke the silence, "You know more than anyone else, that I would never challenge a decision you made unless I believed it was absolutely necessary." Callum's eyes moved over the men in the room, Danny, and then settled back on Sebastian. "I think that if we are to wait any longer, we might as well get a coffin for Evie while we are at it."

Sebastian's brows rose, and a look of shock mixed with anger bloomed on his face. It was the look that appeared whenever someone dared to defy him; yet the shock derived mainly from the fact that it was Callum speaking.

"I just have this feeling," Callum immediately spoke up before Sebastian could say anything. "I have this feeling that something is wrong with Evie, and I think that by waiting any longer, we would be condemning her."

"Don't you dare speak out against me," Sebastian snarled out, his eyes darkening dangerously as he noticed the defiance within Callum's. He cast his eyes out to the rest of the men in the room, noting the way their postures had shifted and eyes had been directed elsewhere.

"You heard what I fucking said."

Sebastian turned abruptly on his heel and stormed off towards his office. His skin crawled at Callum's words, and he could feel the annoyance and fury boil in his blood. He had never been one to tolerate an opposing opinion; however, he was well aware that the reasoning behind his reaction stemmed from his agreement.

All three men tacitly agreed that time was simply not on their side.

Logically, it was only reasonable to want to wait till tomorrow to enact the plan. But the thing is, logic and Evelyn Summers are two things that have never gone together.

He ran his hands over his face and closed his eyes while he worked to regulate his breathing. His heart was thudding heavily within his chest, and he felt a torrent of emotions take rising in his being.

Go get her back.

Mason's words echoed in his head.

"What the fuck am I doing?" Sebastian whispered.

He glanced at the clock – 9:47.

A slew of curse words left his mouth as he grabbed his jacket and flung open his office door. Sucking up his pride, he nearly sprinted back into the main room, fully prepared to beg the men to get suited up and embark on a mission that would undeniably prove fatal for a few.

But Sebastian didn't have to beg. He didn't even have to tell them he had changed his mind.

Seconds after turning the corner and entering the main room, he found himself catching a black, metal object tossed his way: a gun.

Confusion instantly overcame him, as his own gun was safely tucked away at the back of his pants. Sebastian's eyes moved upwards and nearly took a step back in shock at the fully suited men in the room, all waiting in obedient silence for further orders.

"I thought you might change your mind." Callum said, a small smirk teasing his lips despite the seriousness that lingered in his eyes.

"And the extra gun?" Sebastian asked, unable to fully process the surprise and gratitude he felt.

Callum shrugged. "Something tells me you'll want to be the one leading this massacre. Two guns are better than one."

Sebastian allowed a grin to break out across his face before a solemn expression took over. The gratitude and relief was suppressed with the power radiated through his hands as he grasped the new gun tightly, and he looked out at the men who had been more than loyal to him.

"You all know the plan. I know you do. When we arrive, no one moves until I give the signal. Evie is our priority, and if I cannot be the one to do it, I want her safely taken out of the house as quickly as possible. We will not stop until either they are all dead, or we are. "Sebastian paused, his eyes sweeping for any looks of hesitance or fear. When he was met with across the board looks of determination, he could feel the power surge within him.

"And most importantly," his voice resounded throughout the room, "Leave Nick to me."

On that note, the King exited the house, with his army following in suit.

It was on this night, a night that would be marked by death, loss, and tragedy –

The King became the Executioner.

+++++

It had felt so real.

She had felt the weight of the gun in her hand. She had felt her muscles tense as her finger locked around the trigger. She had felt the gun jerk in her hand as the man's head snapped back, his lips parted as his jaw hung slack. She watched the thick, crimson blood drain from the gaping hole in his forehead.

So it simply did not make sense to Evie – the fact that it was not real.

Her chest rose and fell heavily as she shifted on the concrete floor. The rise and fall of her chest had finally steadied; but the pounding that ached within her head had yet to cease. The room was dimly lit, and while she wasn't sure how long had passed, she was fairly certain that it had been well over a few hours since Nick's men had first chained her up.

The shackles that her wrists hung from no longer pained her, as long she didn't move much. The skin had been rubbed raw, and dried blood caked her skin from her attempts to break free.

Evie didn't exactly know why she had even bothered to try to break free. It wasn't like she could actually get out of the house, and on the slim chance she was able to, she hadn't the slightest clue as to where she was, or where she could even go.

The dream had caused her to jerk upwards, and scrapes marred her legs from where she had flailed out in an attempt to regain her surroundings.

Surely she had lost her mind.

It was not even a question at this point.

The madness within her was tantalizing.

It was getting worse, and worse, and worse.

Her eyes trailed over the drops of bright red that stood out against her sickly pale skin. Her legs were noticeably thinner, and she felt as though she resembled a skeleton.

A bitter laugh left her lips at the image of a skeleton chained to a wall. The bones of a forgotten person, left to die and rot away.

Abandoned and forgotten.

Those were two words that have never been associated with Evelyn Summers.

But there she was, struggling to find two other words that would better describe her and the situation that she had found herself trapped in.

A hiss left her lips as she shifted her position on the ground, her wrists rubbing against the harsh metal as she did so. Her eyes squeezed shut as she blocked out the discomfort that racked her body, and instead focused on the question that had been playing on a loop in her head.

Was Mason still alive?

Nick's plan had left little room for survival, and no matter how hard Evie tried, she could not dispel the disturbing thought that had entered her mind. She had struggled to decipher the voices she heard upstairs when she was first thrown into the room, and when there was a series of yells, she could not tell whether they were of celebration or anger.

She forced the image of Mason's bloodied body out of her mind. In an attempt to console herself, she thought of Sebastian. e would never leave one of his men completely unguarded, especially when he is one of his closest friends.

Sebastian.

What did she feel when she thought of him?

Nothing.

Or perhaps it was everything.

Perhaps she felt every emotion under the sun and her heart ached with every beat because she was in love with someone who seemingly dangled her life on the line. He was danger, insanity, death, and cruelty.

Together they were fire and ice.

After spending months getting to know him, she still wasn't exactly sure how she felt about him. The conflicting feelings left her awake at night, completely restless and at times, completely nauseated.

She needed one thing in her life to be simple, to be something she understood.

Because there were times when he was more than the ruthless gang member.

There were times when he was soft, caring, attentive, and protective.

But he could be possessive, so incredibly possessive, that she found herself feeling like she was more like an object to him. And that hurt her, or at least it hurt before. Now? Now she was stuck in a basement, battered and bloodied, completely unsure if she would ever see the light of day again.

So why was she even entertaining her feelings about Sebastian?

Why did it matter?

The emotions that she had been experiencing were those of the past. They weren't genuine feelings anymore, but instead, mere memories that were haunting her. She would need to push them out if she wanted to hold on to her last bit of sanity, if there truly was anything left to hold onto.

Approaching footsteps caused her body to tense and her stomach to drop. Evie's eyes flickered towards the top of the stairs, where shadows appeared under the crack of the door.

She found herself recoiling as the door swung open, casting bright light over her fragile form.

"Oh Evie," Nick's voice sang out, "it's time to have some fun!"

+++++

Sebastian's breathing was heavy as he rounded the corner, his hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel as the series of headlights followed behind him in pursuit.

His heart was pounding but the determination that pulsed through his veins allowed him to remain focused. He wanted nothing more than to put a bullet into Nick's brain after seemingly endless hours of torturing him; however, he knew his main priority would be getting Evie out.

He knew she was okay, but only in the sense that she was still alive. What worried him was knowing that she had done whatever it took survive, and he didn't know what that would mean for her mental and emotional state.

He flinched back as he thought of her standing in front of him in the police department. Her ice cold eyes had been fully of emotion, but it was the determination that shone through that caught his attention.

She was, and always has been, a survivor.

But something was different this time.

"She'll be okay." Callum finally spoke up, his eyes flickering towards Sebastian before moving back towards the road.

"How did you know-"

"It doesn't take a genius," Callum interrupted. "I know you're worried, and I am too. But all we need to do is get her out of there, and then we can all help her. She will be okay."

Sebastian nodded, his jaw clenching.

"We just need to get her out."

His foot lowered on the gas, and the car revved up, the speed now matching his racing pulse.

He did not care about the bloodshed. He did not care about how many lives he would have to take. He did not care that there was a chance he could lose his own, as long as Evie was rescued.

And then he finally got it.

To love someone isn't only to try to do everything you can for them. To love someone means to put that person entirely before you.

And that's what Sebastian King intended to do.

People often said that Evelyn Summers and Sebastian King would end up killing each other, but they would also kill for each other.

What they rarely realized was the fact that they would also be killed for each other.

That is the bond between a King and a Queen.

+++++

To save or not to save.

Were those the words dancing through Sebastian's head? Was he wondering whether she was worth saving? Was that why he hadn't come? Evie's eyelids flickered as she fought to remain impassive as the pain racked through her body, sending tremors through her spine.

Perhaps he didn't even want to save her. Perhaps this was merely two alpha males going head to head, trying to see who was truly the most powerful.

Survival of the fittest? Darwin surely would have chosen Sebastian to come out on top; yet Darwin was not necessarily always correct.

Once again, she was the damsel in distress. She was the object that everyone was fighting over; but that was it. She was nothing but an object, and object Sebastian and Nick sought to possess and exploit.

Evie's pale hand traced over the sheets that her limbs were tangled in. He hadn't even bothered to tie her up again, as if he knew she would be too weak to attempt to escape. There was a dull ache in the back of her head; yet the discomfort that racked her body with every move she made, made her disregard the trauma her head had undergone.

How long can someone take this?

How long can someone endure the abuse?

For a brief moment, she wanted to feel. She wanted to feel all the emotions that should have been coursing through her veins.

She wanted to feel angry.

She wanted to feel hurt.

Hell, she wanted to feel scared.

But Evie felt nothing. She had come to the realization that there was a stark, undeniable difference between pain and hurt. Pain is your body's physical reaction to something; it travels through nerve endings until your brain registers the feeling. But hurt, hurt is emotional. To feel hurt is to feel wounded, and to feel wounded you must know and acknowledge that you've been hurt.

But her brain could only register the physical reaction to the abuse. The emotional hurt that any sane person should have been experiencing was simply not there.

She felt empty.

Her clothes were torn and if it wasn't for her underwear, she would have been practically naked. The sheet felt as though it weighed over a ton, weighing her down with heat and sweat.

The quaking pain made her stomach churn.

She couldn't hear any noises coming from upstairs; in fact, the only thing she could hear was her thudding heart. She grimaced as she shifted slightly, forcing herself to open her eyes. Like before, the only light within the room came from the crack under the basement door. But even in the dimly lit room, Evie could make out the dried blood and fresh bruises that marred her skin.

"Fuck," Evie spat out as she dragged her body towards the wall, biting her lip as a fresh set of tears burned the back of her eyes. She gently touched her hand to the back of her neck, wincing when it came into contact with the sticky, hot substance.

At this point, Evie was convinced more than half her body was caked in blood. She groaned as she rested her head back on the wall, shutting her eyes as she let the thoughts of Nick, Sebastian, and any chance of survival flood her mind.

+++++

"It's time to have some fun!"

Evie barely could process his words before the shackles were roughly unchained, causing the metal to dig into her raw skin. A hiss escaped her lips as she was pulled to her feet and forcefully led up the stairs, each step sending a shock of discomfort throughout her body.

"What do you want now?" Evie spat out, sending Nick a murderous glare.

Nick only smiled sadistically at her as he continued to drag her around the house. Her eyes darted around as they passed by groups of men who seemed to be carelessly lounging about, clearly not worried about their safety.

They evidently did not believe they were in danger from the Kings anytime soon.

Evie could feel herself frowning at the thought, almost sickened by the thought that they weren't coming—that he wasn't coming.

Nick brought her down a hallway before he unlocked a door and shoved her inside a room.

"Is Mason dead?" Her voice was blank, carefully made to seem completely indifferent.

But wasn't she?

Indifferent?

Or was there part of her that was completely horrified over the possibility that Mason could be dead?

But before her question could be answered, Evie found herself reeling backwards as a powerful blow struck her face. A cry left her lips as she collapsed onto the floor, and before she could recover, Nick was dragging her back onto her feet.

"One of my men might be dead," Nick spat out, his anger finally showing. "And I have reason to believe there is a rat in my gang."

Evie's jaw dropped slightly, but she contained her surprise.

A rat? It couldn't be possible.

"Oh, how the tables have turned," she quipped back, a taunting smirk gracing her lips. She felt a stinging sensation on the side of her face, and gently dabbed the corner of her lip, rolling her eyes as her fingers returned with blood.

"So what," she spoke up again when Nick refused to respond. "You're just going to beat me up now?"

Her voice caught in her throat when Nick's eyes met hers. The rage was undeniable, and in that look Evie could tell she was in for a world of terror.

"Yes, Evie, I am. I am going to leave you so fucking bloodied, that if there is a rat in the house, Sebastian is going to be informed immediately. He's going to know that you are on the verge of death, and he is going to have no choice but to come."

For the first time in a while, genuine fear creeped into Evie's being. Her heart rate had spiked, and her hands had become clammy. For the first time in days, she felt alive, and suddenly, she was wishing she didn't.

"But what if you don't have a rat?" Evie spoke slowly, working to keep her voice passive.

Nick only shrugged, advancing towards her.

Evie wanted to stand her ground, but against her will she stepped back, attempting to create distance between Nick and herself.

With every step back she took, Nick would take one forwards.

It was a game of cat and mouse. Predator versus prey.

"But how is Sebastian supposed to know where to go?" Her voice was barely stable, and she couldn't help but allow her eyes to dart around the room in search of any potential escape.

"Well, well, well," Nick spoke out as he cornered her. "It seems like little Miss Evelyn Summers doubts the fearless and invincible Sebastian King."

She hesitated before asking the question that had been haunting her.

"What if he doesn't care?"

Evie knew she had let too much vulnerability show. She had to shut it off, she had to repress everything and reinforce the internal barriers.

"You're scared," Nick whispered out, his eyes practically lighting up at this discovery. "After days of practically being emotionless, you're finally cracking."

His hand brushed against her bruising cheek, but she remained still as his eyes searched hers. Much to Nick's dismay, Evie's eyes had been emptied of any fleeting emotion she may have momentarily felt.

She truly was something else, Nick thought. He had never met a person quite like Evie; someone who was so intriguing, a girl who dragged in all who she had met, rendering them utterly helpless.

He could see why Sebastian couldn't and wouldn't let her go. He was surprised that Evie could not see that herself, and it seemed that her own doubt revealed something he had not realized before.

Evie did not believe she could be loved.

She was trained to expect the worst, rendering her entirely incapable of accepting anything else.

"And just like that, your vulnerability has vanished," he whispered out, leaning in dangerously close.

"I don't want to die."

Nick's eyes widened and he desperately searched her face. But he was met with the expression he had been faced with for the last few days: utter emptiness.

"I live by my own rules. Even when it seems like I don't, I do what I want to, when I want to." Her voice had acquired that chillingly soft tone. "I am my own person. I make my own decisions, and I do not do things that I don't want to."

She had moved herself off the wall, and Nick was now the one retreating.

"I do not want to die. Don't you dare threaten to end my life just because you want to take another's."

Nick did not realize it was possible to become even more shocked than he was before. Evie had completely transformed before his eyes, and could hardly grasp that as a possibility; and yet it was.

"I do not want to die, so I won't."

After what seemed like minutes of utter silence, Nick finally mustered up a response.

"I never said you would. I never said I would kill you," he moved closer, but she didn't even bat an eye.

"I said I was going to beat you until you were on the verge of death, and that is precisely what I am going to do."

+++++

Mason watched the way she quickly moved about the room, checking his vitals and taking down notes, all while avoiding any eye contact. Her expression was poised to look calm and collected, but he could see through it. Her knuckles were pale from the way she gripped her notes, and the slight movement in her mouth indicated that she was chewing her cheeks nervously.

"Are you never going to speak to me again?"

Elizabeth tensed at the sound of his voice, and her eyes nearly flickered up towards him, but she restrained herself.

"Come on," Mason tried again, wincing as he heard the desperation that practically leaked through his lips. "Don't you even want to know how I did it?"

He sucked in his breath when she directed her eyes towards him, not expecting the harsh stare he was faced with.

"No."

She took her final notes, turned on her heel, and exited the room without another word. Mason could not resist the feeling of disappointment he felt, mixed with the guilt.

She hated him, and for some reason, that bothered him.

Despite being in one of the most ruthless gang's in the world, it was in Mason's capability to treat other's in the same manner that Sebastian could. It was because of this that Mason was, at times, seen as the odd man out.

He was far more sensitive than the others. He sympathized and he empathized. He used to hate that about himself, but came to take pride in it.

But then came Kate.

She took advantage of that part of him, and in turn, he almost lost his life.

He clenched his fists and shut his eyes as the anger and resentment grew. The betrayal awoke a rage within him, one that he sought to smother.

He didn't bother opening his eyes when he heard the door open again, the sound followed by her tentative footsteps approaching the bed. He heard her breathing catch after a few moments of silence, and he knew she was debating whether she should say something.

"I've never had a patient like you." Her voice shook, and Mason felt a stab in his chest when he recognized the fear.

"I never imagined being in a situation as dangerous as the one I was just in hardly over a few hours ago."

He opened his eyes and take in her pale face and teary eyes.

"I just," she hesitated, "I just was entirely unprepared to ever find myself in a situation quite like this one. I was scared, and hell, I am still scared."

"Elizabeth," Mason began, "I'm—"

"Who is she?" Elizabeth cut him off, her eyes clearing up and her voice becoming steadier.

Mason hesitated, unsure of even how to start. Evelyn Summers was not someone who could just be described or explained.

"It's not that easy," Mason tried, feeling nearly distraught as he tried to piece together some kind of reasonable explanation for Evelyn.

"Okay," Elizabeth nodded, "That's okay."

Her expression was sympathetic and understanding. Mason watched as she slowly pulled up a chair and placed it by the side of his bed. She sat on the edge, and rested her hands on the side of his bed, mere inches from his own. It was as if she wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him, but wasn't sure if she should.

"You care about her, you all do." She spoke slowly, as though she was merely just voicing her theory and waiting for Mason to correct her. "I'm going to guess she has been taken, and her disappearance most likely lines up with your hospitalization."

Mason nodded, suppressing the smirk that was fighting to grace his lips. It seemed as though he was not the only observant one in the room.

"Somehow, with a few computers, phones, and files, you've seemingly found her. You've given Sebastian her location, and now, well now he goes to rescue her?"

"That is the plan," Mason agreed, looking over Elizabeth with an impressed expression.

"Well?" Elizabeth asked in an eager tone, "Are they going to get her? Is Sebastian on his way there right now?"

Mason nearly smiled at the way she pestered him for answers, but he couldn't ignore the ultimate seriousness of the matter.

Evie's life was on the line.

"From what I've been told so far, "Mason stated, motioning towards his phone, "they are in the midst of establishing their plan for attack."

Elizabeth nodded, chewing once more on her cheek.

"So, how did you do it?"

Mason dove into his explanation, describing how he had used previous information on Nick to narrow down her location.

"The location though, did not make any logical sense, because it is in the middle of the woods. It's quite far from this city, and in fact, there aren't any homes in the area."

"So what tipped you off? Other than a house being isolated in an area that isn't known to have any people living there?"

Mason grabbed his computer and pulled up a page that showed what seemed to be a bird's eye view surveillance of what appeared to be of just a woodsy area outside of the city.

"How did you—"

"I'm a tracker in one of the most powerful gangs," was Mason's only explanation.

"So how do you know?" Elizabeth was now leaning almost fully over Mason as she peered onto his screen. Some of her hair had slipped from her braid, and Mason had to resist pushing it behind her ear.

"I don't—"

"There," Mason whispered as a yellow light appeared. "That is a cellphone signal."

The light lasted only a matter of seconds, but it had been there nonetheless. Mason believed the cellphone signals were being hidden by some wall, set up by their own tech people. He was convinced that Nick had a team working for him, one that was working tirelessly to ensure that their location was effectively hidden.

But for some reason, there was a certain person slipping underneath this invisibility cloak that had been set up. It had certainly been a red flag to Mason when he first discovered it, mainly because he could not fathom one of Nick's men being a rat; however, he also believed there would never be a rat in his own gang.

But there wasn't one.

There was two.

"There it is again," Elizabeth muttered, her brows furrowing as she leaned further in, her face practically pressing against his computer screen.

"Is it possible for you to send a signal back?" She was now peering at Mason, a more serious expression now resting on her face.

Mason frowned, "And why on earth would I do that? I am not even sure that this signal is purposeful. For all I know, someone could have a dysfunctional device which they are completely unaware is sending me signals."

Elizabeth's only response was to stare blankly at Mason, before she turned her attention back to the screen.

"Mason," she said after a few silent moments. "These signals, they are all deliberate."

Mason immediately shook his head, unwilling to entertain Elizabeth's far too hopeful statement.

"When did you start noticing the signals?" She pressed, unwavering with her new theory. "I highly doubt a man like this Nick guy would allow this flaw within his gang. This isn't a mistake, it is a purposeful action being taken by one of his men to catch your attention."

Mason stared hard at the screen while he thought over her words.

The signals had started only a few hours after Mason had received his equipment. They never lasted long, and the frequency of them did not align to that of a device being used in a normal manner.

No, Elizabeth had been correct. This signals were carefully tailored to attract attention, but not too much attention.

Perfect for someone who was attempting to slip under the radar of the men trying to hide the gang.

Mason gently pushed Elizabeth to the side and grabbed his computer. His fingers flew across the keys as he entered in codes, broke down security barriers, and accessed files that were surely not meant to be accessed.

"What are you doing?" Elizabeth questioned, her eyes wide as numerous windows appeared on Mason's computer. "H-How are you doing this?"

Mason was far too focused and determined to respond. He was searching for one thing and one thing only, and his gut told him it was absolutely necessary to do this. His eyes flickered over the series of pages open before he began dismantling the information in front of him.

He almost missed it.

His eyes had grazed over it and his hand at inched to remove the file from his screen.

But then his breath caught, his eyes diverted back, and he focused in on the thing that he had been searching for.

The identity.

The person behind the signal.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked impatiently, "What did you find?"

Mason's heart thudded as he grappled for his phone.

"You were right, Elizabeth," Mason said, his voice shaking as he fought to contain the shock and flurry of emotions that flooded within him.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head, but before she could even attempt to ask one of the millions of questions she had, Mason's attention had turned to his phone.

"Callum? Yes, yes, everything is alright, well—" Mason paused. "No, damn it, would you listen to me?"

Elizabeth could hear the voice on the other end halt.

"We might not be entirely alone in this. It seems that we have someone on our side." Mason hesitated.

"Someone on the inside."

+++++

Evie dragged her hands along the wall as she pulled herself towards the end of the room. The nauseating ache in her body made her gasp and cry out with every sickening step.

The bloodied sheet lay only a few feet behind her, abandoned. The ripped clothes that hung on her body had been completely soaked with sweat and blood.

She was practically withering away.

Her pale, bony limbs were weak, and she fought desperately to ignore the haunting voice inside her head.

You've been left for the dead.

But it wasn't her father this time.

No. It was her own voice.

She took another staggering step forwards, biting her lip viciously as pain radiated from her feet to her head. She was nearly ready to collapse until her hand grazed over something cold, protruding from the wall.

Metal.

Her fingertips gently traced around it, igniting a mental debate within her. She could tell it was deeply rooted within the wall, but something was telling her she would need some kind of weapon, and soon.

Could this possibly be her instinct? Her natural response to any given situation?

Without any warning, a deafening explosion rocked the house. Evie was thrown off her balance and sent onto the hard, concrete floor, a scream leaving her lips and her body wailed in protest.

She could only hear her heartbeat in her ears, and as for her sight, it was as though everything had gone black.

I'm going to die—No.

I am dying.

But Evelyn Summers was a survivor, and as far as she knew she wasn't dead yet.

Her vision cleared as she heaved her body into an upright position, using the wall to support her until she saw the metal sticking out of the wall.

It was now or never.

So Evie began clawing, tearing away at the wall. Her nails tore and blood splattered against the wall and the ground. Tears trailed silently down her cheeks, so silently that she hardly realized she was crying. The pain was excruciating, and at the end of it, she had added a new layer of blood, sweat, and tears to her body.

But at the end of it, Miss Evelyn Summers was still standing on her two feet, clutching a bloodied, metal stake close to her chest.

And that's when she allowed herself to fully acknowledge the yells, the gunshots, and the explosions echoing from above.

It seemed that the Kings had finally arrived.

+++++

Sebastian hadn't gained his position, his power, his gang—out of mere luck.

No. These were all things he had earned.

He had built a gang so dangerous, so powerful, that the police were unable to even consider intervening on its business. People quaked with fear with the Kings were mentioned, because simply the name itself embodied death, destruction, and terror.

So when Sebastian King gave his signal, not a single man hesitated.

With a slight nod of his head, Sebastian had knowingly and willingly signed over the lives of his men, including his own.

It was now a matter of life or death.

The explosion rocked Sebastian's body, despite him being fully braced for it. He watched as the smoke cleared, revealing a gaping hole in the side of the massive house.

"Team two," he hissed out, "go."

The second explosion was hardly noticeable from the rounds of gunshots that were firing off within the house.

Sebastian grasped a gun in each hand and took a steady breath. Callum was right by his side, standing in a similar fashion.

"Is Mason sure?" Sebastian asked, his grips tightening around the heavy metal.

Callum scoffed, amusement and murder dancing within his eyes. "We both know Mason did not fuck this one up, especially with everything at stake."

Sebastian's eyes slid forward towards the door and he felt the familiar stillness in his body, one that always overtook him before a raid.

"Alright," he said firmly, "let's give them hell."

+++++

Screams, gunshots, and explosions.

Lifeless bodies, writhing victims, and bloodstained floors and walls.

Sebastian did not pause to take in the horror that had unfolded in front of him. He did not flinch when he saw some of his own men laying lifeless of the floor in puddles of their own blood.

He couldn't.

He felt the gun kickback in his hand, hardly registering that he too was participating in this bloodbath.

It felt as if it had been hours, when in reality it could have been less than half an hour since the first explosion. Sebastian had to give it to Nick and his men: for being caught off guard in this attack, they had managed to recover relatively quickly.

But not quickly enough.

"Does anyone have Evie?" Sebastian barked into his microphone, feeling a pitting feeling at the lack of any positive announcements.

A chorus of 'Negative' filled his ears, and a growl ripped through his chest as he entered a new room.

Sebastian staggered back as he spotted a body lying face down, with long hair pooling around her head. He barely even took the time to acknowledge that it wasn't Evie's dark hair, for the pounding of his heart and the rush of anxiety had rendered him incapable of thinking properly.

It wasn't until he turned over the body, with bullet holes decorating the back, that Sebastian realized he was staring at the body of Kate Preston.

More specifically, staring into the lifeless eyes of the young girl who had been part of the source for the immeasurable pain and anguish he had suffered from.

But for some reason, he felt bad.

"Top floor cleared." The voice in his ear pulled his attention away from the dead girl in his arms. Sebastian quickly, but gently, placed her body back on the ground before taking surveillance of the scene in front of him.

He could hear gunshots echoing from the right side of the mansion, but it had already been reported that Nick was nowhere to be found in that area. Sebastian closed his eyes and recalled the blueprint of the house. If Evie wasn't on the top floor, and most of the second floor had been cleared, then that left only the basement.

The basement.

Only one way in and one way out.

Surely it wouldn't be unguarded, especially if Evie was in there.

Sebastian took off in the direction of the entrance, narrowly avoiding stray bullets from the fight that had seemed to be moving in his direction. Just as he turned down the hallway, he felt an sickening impact in his back, sending him hurtling towards the floor. The pain and his inability to catch his breath allowed him to come to the conclusion that he had been shot, but the bullet was lodged in his Kevlar vest.

In searing pain, Sebastian managed to flip himself onto his back, only to have the man crumple down before him. Sebastian looked around wildly, but did not have time to see the shooter as another explosion was set off.

Pieces of dry wall scattered everywhere, and Sebastian hissed out as chunks cut at his legs and one connected with the side of his head.

Before he could fully register what had happened, he felt a set of arms pull him back, away from the thick of the fight. He clutched his remaining gun, having lost the other, and prepared himself to put a bullet in the person's head. He sent an elbow back into the man's shin and flipped himself so that he was now standing on his feet, gun pointing directly at the man who had just saved him, but could very well be one to try to take his life.

But then Sebastian really looked at him, and his grip slackened.

"Nate."

His eyes were panicked, but he nodded in response, as though Sebastian needed confirmation. Sebastian could see by Nate's body posture that he was tensed and prepared to be shot, and that made his stomach tighten.

"Where the fuck is Evie?" Sebastian spat out, forcing himself from acting against his better judgment.

Nate was caught off guard by the question, but quickly recovered.

"Last I knew, she was locked in the basement."

Sebastian took in his labored breathing and weak voice, and noticed the growing bloodstain on Nate's side.

"Get outside. There's are cars waiting. You're injured and you need to get help." Sebastian's words were orders, but Nate struggled to process them.

"I know what you did for us, for Evie. Mason figured it out." Sebastian forced out, realizing that he was wasting precious time, time that he did not have to spare.

"If you want to live, you'll leave and accept the help I am offering right now."

Before Nate could utter a response, Sebastian was taking off in the direction of the basement. He did not hesitate to kick down the down, the thunderous cracking of wood echoing throughout his ears.

Sebastian's mind was set on one thing and one thing only.

Evelyn Summers.

But as he reached the end of the staircase, he made the sickening discovery that it was entirely, and completely empty. There were no signs of life, and the only thing that indicated that she may have ever been there was a bloodied white sheet, that lay crumpled on the floor.

A roar erupted through Sebastian's chest and he slammed his fist against the wall. He didn't feel two of his fingers break, and he was oblivious, or better yet, uncaring towards the blood that splattered from his hand.

"Sebastian?"

Callum's voice entered his ears, but Sebastian could hardly focus.

"Sebastian!"

"What?" He yelled back, his entire body shaking. "She isn't in the fucking basement. She's gone. Nick fucking took her and for all we know, she's dead."

"We found her. Upstairs, top floor."

+++++

When Sebastian thought of Evelyn Summers, he often thought of all the ways he had gone wrong with her.

Of all the things that he had done, the pain he had inflicted, whether it was emotional, mental, or physical—it always astounded him that what bothered her the most, was his possessiveness.

Evie was convinced she was being objectified.

She was convinced that when he saw her, he did not see her for who she was, and most importantly, that he did not see her as a human being.

But what she didn't realize was why he acted the way he did.

He was possessive because for the first time in his life, he had someone to care for, someone whose life was not something that could simply be lost and dismissed as a death for the goodness of the gang.

For the first time in Sebastian's life, he had found something, someone, to be specific, that came before everything else in his life, including himself.

"We got her, Sebastian," Callum whispered. "This room wasn't indicated on the blueprint, because it was a hidden room, most likely built in recently and without most of the men knowing."

Sebastian could hear Callum talking, but he wasn't truly listening. He was not acknowledging the men that lingered on the top floor, avoiding his eyes and murmuring amongst themselves.

"What I want to know is where the fuck Nick is," Sebastian spat out, sending Callum a murderous glare as if he were at fault for his disappearance. "But until then, I just need to see her."

"No, listen to me," Callum's firm grip on Sebastian's arm caused him to pause, but it was the unstable, almost broken expression on his face that caused Sebastian to stop moving entirely.

"What happened?" The words were forced out of his lips, and he could feel his heart plummeting as though it had fallen into an endless pit. "What happened to her?"

Callum only shook his head, casting his eyes downward.

"Just," he hesitated, "just try to prepare yourself."

It was only then that Sebastian took a moment to look at the grim expressions of the other men. But then he saw him, standing in the light of the doorway, peering into the makeshift room that had gone unnoticed by his men until the fight had practically been over.

The sight of Danny Summers made Sebastian almost sick to his stomach.

Tears were flooding down his cheeks and his entire body was shaking.

It was only later that Sebastian would discover that she did not let anyone come into the room, to even step past the threshold, until she saw him.

He approached Danny, took a breath, and slowly turned to face the sight that would give him nightmares for weeks, months on end.

The pale, skeletal girl was sitting next to the body, her hands folded almost peacefully in her lap.

Her body position was so childlike, that it took him a few moments to fully see the damage that had been done. She was covered in blood and dirt, and her nails had been practically all torn off.

Her hair was matted down, covering her eyes.

If it wasn't for the incredibly slight rise and fall of her shoulders, Sebastian would have thought she was dead.

But she wasn't.

Somehow, in that horrific, nauseating state, Evelyn Summers was still alive. She was sitting there, legs crossed, head down, with her eyes trained on the metal stake that stuck out of Nick Harmon's neck.

But it wasn't just the sight of this that was going to haunt Sebastian for years to come. No, not even seeing the abnormal amount of blood pooled out around Nick's body—that was hardly the worst part.

What would truly make the most dangerous and powerful men in London absolutely paralyzed with fear, shock, and horror, was the cold, empty look in Evelyn Summers' eyes when she lifted her head for the first time since being found.

Danny turned away, unable to look at his sister, or what remained left of her.

"Evie," Sebastian whispered out, inching forwards.

She didn't even bat an eye.

She didn't even look like she could see him.

There was such emptiness in her pale eyes, that Sebastian felt like he would collapse under her icy stare.

"Evie," Sebastian gasped out again, his breathing labored as he desperately searched for any traces of the girl he once knew.

"I did what I had to do to survive."

Her voice made his stomach lurch and his knees buckle.

It was not her voice.

Those were not her eyes.

That was not Evelyn Summers.

She may have been alive. 

She may have survived.

But it seemed as though the King's Queen had been executed.

+++++

Author's Note

I hardly think any of you will/should read this bit but for those looking for answers, here we go:

Something about this story makes me absolutely resent it, while loving it more than anything. I hardly ever want to write another chapter, and despite having an outline made for it, I always find myself absolutely crippled with fear and anxiety when it comes time to write.

I have become emotionally and mentally drained while writing it, and I take every negative comment to heart.

But that is not on you. That is something I, as a writer on this website, must overcome.

I am sickened by my long breaks between chapters and I am so sorry for punishing you, my incredible fans and readers, like this. It is not fair to you all, and I am so so sorry for that.

Many of you have reached out to me about my depression, saying that I should not feel depressed because my writing is "good". I appreciate that, but you must understand that my depression, isn't over whether or not I believe my writing is worthy of reading.

My depression stems from my feelings of worthlessness, exhaustion, and at times, utter and unexplainable brokenness. I feel so shattered at times, I can't do anything. I have come to realize that I have put so many of these negative feelings into the character of Evelyn Summers, that writing this story leaves me incredibly drained.

However, I love this story. I do find enjoyment in telling it, and I will finish it for you all, because you deserve that more than anything.

I love you all so much, even if it doesn't seem that way.

To the moon and back, with all the love in my heart. xx