Trade In Vengeance (The Rogues #2) Read Online Ruby Vincent

Categories Genre: Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: The Rogues Series by Ruby Vincent
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Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
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“Depends on if you think hanging a flag off the pole on the quad is a line you couldn’t cross in your darkest moment.”

I opened my mouth to snap back and nothing came out. What did they say? Hang a what?”

“Excuse me?”

“Get a flag—any kind will work—and paint it purple. Hang it up on the quad before the sun comes up, and that’s it,” they said. “I’ll come to you and tell you everything you want to know.”

I frowned, searching her request for the trick. “Why are you asking me to do this? You can hang a damn flag yourself.”

“That’s another thing I’ll tell you—after.”

“Tell me? Do you really believe that once I’m in the same room with you, we’re going to sit down and chat?”

An odd, clicky, mechanical laugh buzzed out the phone. “You can do your worst, Sinclair. I’m not afraid of you. Never was, never will be. You Sinclair-Bowdens like to act tough, but in the end, you turn out to be weak-ass little bitches who can’t swim.

“Buh-bye.”

Click.

I gripped my phone so hard the screen cracked. Furious tears dripped in the mug I forgot I was holding.

Bastard. Monster! All this time, you were watching and waiting—dangling me like this was just another game.

But what should I do? They asked me to hang a flag. It sounded harmless, but there had to be more to it. Why would doing something so pointless get them to reveal themselves to me?

There’s only one way to find out.

And didn’t I already know I was going to do it. It wasn’t a question. If this was all it took to get in the same room with Winter’s killer, I had to do it. Obviously, it was a trap, but some traps were worth springing.

I clambered off the steps, racing inside to—

I ground to a halt in the front hall. I knew exactly how the conversation between me, Lucien, Rafael, and Cato would go. They’d say it was a trap, and I shouldn’t go anywhere near that flagpole until I found out the real reason the Phantom wanted me to go around painting flags. Someone who drove a person to suicide to protect a secret wouldn’t suddenly decide to give it up over a meaningless chore.

They’d say all of those things, and they’d be absolutely right. That’s why I’ll tell them after it’s done.

I couldn’t have them in my ear, listing all the reasons this was a huge mistake and all around being sweet and caring over me. This was my revenge to take. It was my choice to make, and I made it.

With six hours left until sunrise, I couldn’t spend it arguing with the guys. I needed to find an open paint store and figure out where they sell flags.

Decision made, I went up to my room and dressed quietly in the dark—careful not to disturb Cato.

Rafael’s car keys hung on a clip in the kitchen. I took them and left with a heavy feeling in my chest. As I walked through the dark, it grew smaller and smaller, lighter and lighter. By the time I reached the parking lot, I couldn’t hold back my smile.

The monster was right. There was no stopping your happiness when you’re so close to getting everything you want.

MORNING RAYS CREPT over the horizon, determined to dispel the darkness for those not ready for the light. The soft cling, cling, cling of metal on metal broke the silence, ringing a steady chime in my head while I hoisted the flag.

I stared at it after I was done, watching it whip in the breeze. What was meant to happen now? Would the Phantom materialize out of thin air? Would the camera crew pop out with all of them laughing at me for completing a pointless prank?

I don’t know how long I stood there, eyes glazed on the possible end of my journey to avenge Winter. It was long enough that the sun won its battle—chasing away the darkness for another day.

Leaving the quad behind, I returned to the Gallery. I had a full day of classes ahead of me. The world didn’t stop for ghosts and phantoms.

“Morning, gorgeous.” Rafael stood over the stove, cooking something that smelled heavenly. “I’m making cinnamon roll waffles. I know it doesn’t make up for losing Wesley, but we’re not going to sit around acting like we’re mourning that human pile of manure. We will find the Phantom, Luna.” He grasped my chin and kissed me soft and sweet, his lips tasting of cinnamon. “I promise.”

“I know we will.” I tucked my paint-stained hands behind my back. “I’m going to run upstairs and shower. We’ll talk, and eat, after I’m done.”

“Cool.”

I ran upstairs and hopped in the tub. I lingered longer under the spray than I needed to, lost in my thoughts. It wasn’t that I was worried the guys would be upset that I acted without them. It’s that I knew I walked into something uncertain and dangerous, and now I had to explain why that was okay after telling Rafael less than twenty-four hours ago that he couldn’t get emotional.



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