Текст книги "Beautiful Storm"
Автор книги: Megan Isaacs
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
“Whatever you need.”
“I don’t want you pulling any stupid shit, but I need you or one of the lads there on the outskirts. If I succeed and get her out I need to know someone will be there to pick her up. Make sure she gets home to our son, without complications.”
“No problem. Why do I get the feeling you think you aren’t coming back?”
A broad smile spreads across my lips. “I’m covering all my bases, but don’t underestimate me. You should know me better than that. I was down for a while but I’m still fit. However, I’ve already told you, if I have to give my life to save hers, to make sure my son has his mum, I will. At least it will be given for something worthwhile, instead of the usual shit it’s been jeopardised for in the past.”
“Is this your way of telling me you’re glad I saved your sorry arse the last time?”
“Yeah, mate. I suppose it is.” I slap him on the shoulder. “If I’ve been put on earth for something, this would be it.”
Compartmentalising the fear for Lizzie’s safety, any doubt of my own abilities leaves my body. What remains is the skilled soldier, the trained killer. I have no doubt the minutes are ticking for the men who took her. Because, given time, I will take down every last one of them.
CLENCHING MY HANDS around the steering wheel, I carefully observe the building and its surroundings. It’s been years since I’ve been here, and nothing seems to have altered. The long, abandoned aircraft hangar’s set back on a small, old airfield. The bomb dump across the access road houses some of the training facilities. Ten-foot high chain link fences still surround the area, but everything looks uncared for. It’s the perfect place to hide an active group of deniable assets.
The sky turns dusky as the sun lowers. I close my eyes and rest my head back against the seat, drawing in deep, calming breaths. To pull this off my emotions need to be under control. Any sign of weakness and it’ll be game over. The only problem is my fucking weakness is here somewhere and she’ll be used to taunt me. It can be the only reason they’ve taken her, but I’m still trying to figure out why.
My heart pounds as I step out of the car and shrug on my jacket. With measured steps, I make my way over to the main gate. Praying the access code hasn’t changed, I punch in eight numbers seared into my brain like a branding iron. I let out a low breath when the familiar clunk of the release mechanism penetrates my eardrums above the blood surging in them.
Ensuring with every strung muscle my steps are unrushed, I push through the gates and pace along the weed-ridden tarmac towards the hangar. The need to run fights with the knowledge that every move I make will give away my state of mind. The place looks dead, but the movement of a surveillance camera in my peripheral lets me know I’m not alone. My body vibrates with constant anger each step I take closer to the hangar, but I manage to maintain an air of detachment.
I scan the area and spot the telltale glint of a scope trained in my direction; light refracts from the last few rays of sun. Roughly four hundred metres to my left there’s sniper and spotter team number one. Where’s the other team? Since they always have four guards on the gate, there’ll be another set around here somewhere. My gaze comes to rest on the barrel of a L115A3 sniper rifle poking out from the undergrowth 150 metres to my right. Team two spotted. The uncertainty in my system releases. Stupid bastards. Who in the hell trained them? Snipers should be undetectable at that range.
I reach the hangar doors and take a deep, calming breath. Showtime. After taking one last sweep over the area to make sure I haven’t missed something, I raise my face to the camera covering the small entrance door, widen my arms, and shout, “I’m here, so let me the fuck in.” I have the access code, can enter by myself, but I want to confirm I’m being watched. Plus I’m unarmed, for now.
The lock clicks and the door pulls ajar enough for me to recognise a familiar face. Jase, one of Bear’s men and someone I’ve worked with, stands in the half shadow. As I push through the door, he steps back, and gives me a look I can’t quite place. It’s somewhere between an apology and apprehension. I make no acknowledgement as I’m fucking clueless to what’s going on.
But I do have questions. Do I trust Bear? Has he lost control of his men? Jase’s Glock pushes into my temple. I figure I have my answer.
“What the fuck am I doing here?” Resentment radiates from within me. In one swift movement, I backhand the gun away from my face.
Jase glares at me but doesn’t make a move to replace the offending item. “Archie’s in the slaughterhouse.” His tone’s flat as he pats me down. I hold my arms out wide and raise my eyebrows at him. Does he think I have no common sense? He steps back, nodding to whoever is watching the surveillance confirming that I’m clean.
“Who the fuck is Archie? And you think I’m stupid enough to go in there unarmed? Not a chance in hell. Get the bastard out here.”
The slaughterhouse is used for replicating live-fire hostage rescue. There’re too many unknowns in there, but if forced, I’ll have no choice. I’m desperate to know Lizzie’s location, but if I mention her once, they are going to realise her worth. I have to wait until they bring her to me. Every millisecond I wait is pure torture. The few I’ve been in here are already too long. I can’t even scan the area for her for fear of giving my true feelings away. Blood screams through my veins in protest.
I keep my hard stare on Jase and he eyeballs me in return. “Archie runs the Dogs now.”
What the hell? Last I heard Johnson was still running the squad. Another thing my best fucking friend failed to mention. My doubts about Bear build further, and the feeling I’ve been hung out to dry creeps into my chest.
“He wanted me here so badly, he can at least have the decency to meet me on the doorstep.”
Jase mumbles some shit into the two-way but never takes his eyes off me. Smart guy because I’d have him unarmed if he gave me an opening.
“You’re not going to invite me in?” Sarcasm drips from my words.
“I think it’s best you wait in the holding area. Archie has a visitor in the arena who he may not want you to see.”
The way he says visitor makes my skin crawl. Lizzie. I bite my tongue and map the layout in my head, hoping nothing’s changed. I’m stuck in the holding area; the only walk-in entrance to the building that hasn’t been blocked in. Exits are a different matter.
Jase leans against the wall as we wait for Archie to appear. A few minutes later, an older bloke with blond hair, a touch smaller than me, enters the room.
“Ah, Noah. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His tone’s light and friendly, the kind you’d expect at a posh fucking dinner party, as he holds out his hand.
I glare at the proffered appendage, but don’t make any move to shake it. “I can’t say the same.” Derision shouts loud and clear. I’m poking the beast, but I need to get him to react to me. Show me what sets him off.
His brown eyes flare. As I take in his appearance, there’s something familiar about him, but as much as I rack my brain, I can’t place him.
“Ah, but you came nonetheless. Do we have something precious to you?”
Game on. I put a mental barrier around every feeling I have for my family. “No.”
He runs a hand through his short hair in what I can only assume is frustration.
“Then why would you come?” He cocks his head and watches me for any trace of concern.
“Any chance we could have this conversation sitting down?” Needing to get inside, I ignore his question. I need to know what I’m up against, now.
“Certainly. Forgive my rudeness, please follow me.”
Cocksucker.
I follow him into the arena, Jase so close up my arse he may as well be in it. Something hard presses into my lumbar. I flinch as he tugs my belt. Cold metal slides downwards and touches my bare skin. What in the hell is going on? I continue to follow Archie as Jase backs away from me. I resist the urge to pat my back and confirm what I already know. He gave me a gun.
I scan the area for cameras, but locate none. No surprise there. Filming never takes place inside the hangar.
“Please have a seat.” Archie gestures towards a couple of worn chairs in the canteen.
“Where is everyone?” The area’s deserted. Not a usual occurrence when I was here. My senses flick to hyperaware and adrenaline leaks into my body, but still, I sit down as instructed.
“Other than Jason, Alexander, and me? Daniel’s in the ops room, Barry is in the gym, and Dean’s on the range. Why? Were you expecting an audience?”
Daniel? Bear’s Danny, the Danny who put a three-man team on my boy? And I thought Baz and Deano were lost on a mission a while ago. I don’t believe for one second there are only the six of them here. For starters, he forgot the two sniper teams outside, but he seems to think these particular men would shake me. Well, he’s right, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I show him.
“No.” I shrug. “I’m just wondering what’s so important you couldn’t just phone, like a normal fucking person.”
“All in good time,” is his only reply. He picks up a remote control from the table and presses a button. At the far end of the area, a huge screen lights up.
I’m glad I’m sitting down, otherwise, I’d have hit the ground. Lizzie, my angel, is bound and blindfolded, magnified tenfold on the screen. Her cheeks tear-stained, her lips tremble and her chest heaves as she sucks in tormented air. Any anger I’ve ever felt in my life doesn’t even come close to the pure hatred that burns through my body. The fear I might not be able to hide my feelings makes my body work overtime to hold in every ounce of love I have for her.
“So, what did you want with my fuck buddy?” I don’t know how I get the words out in such a casual manner.
“Come now, dear boy. We both know this little lady is more to you than just sex.” His shrewd eyes never leave my face.
Keeping my expression neutral, I reply. “You couldn’t be more wrong. She’s just good at it.” I smile at him. “If you know what I mean.” I relax back in the chair but turn my head so I can’t see my girl’s terrified face.
“So, you wouldn’t mind if the lads have at her then?” He motions his head towards Jase, who’s leaving the arena.
This fucker is going to die. The drip of adrenaline turns into a full-on riptide. The need to flex my muscles becomes almost overpowering. The energy it takes to keep my breaths steady and maintain perfect indifference is immense. I want to rip off every one of his limbs.
I rub my chin. “Nah, go ahead. But don’t think I’m having her back after she’s been used up.”
He watches me intently and I start reciting the menu from the Chinese takeaway in my head. I won’t let him get the better of me.
Mushroom egg foo young. King prawn satay.
“What about your son?”
Chicken in black bean sauce. Kung poa beef. Singapore chow mein.
I risk a glance at the screen but it’s empty; Lizzie is no longer there. Terror shudders through me. “That’s a big assumption. How the fuck do you know he’s mine? So I shagged her years ago. She was fucking some other guy at the time, too. The kid could be anyone’s.”
Agitated, I stand, but try and keep my body language neutral.
Then I hear it, the gentle sobs of a female. The one thing that can shake me to the core and anger me beyond livid—Lizzie’s distress. I struggle with the nuclear bomb about to go off in my mind, wrestle with it to keep it under control.
“Well, son. I thought by taking something important to you”—Lizzie comes into view as she struggles against Jase’s grip, tears marring her perfect face—“I could get you to do a job for me.”
I laugh, hard. “I know the sort of job; it’ll probably wind up with me dead. She may be an A-class fuck, but that’s not worth getting killed over.” I cringe at the words and hope Lizzie can’t hear them, but I need to keep up the pretence.
As she nears us, the faith and love in her eyes nearly floors me. The pure relief in her whole body is evident. Jase releases her and she races over, wrapping herself tight around me. My arms, on autopilot, wrap around her, but I can’t respond like that. If I do, they’ll know for sure she’s my world. I force myself to unclasp her arms and push her away. Inside I’m screaming, on the outside I’m heartless.
“Noah? What’s going on?” Her eyebrows knit and confusion consumes her features.
I can’t answer. Briefly, I take in every mark on her face. The bruise purpling under her eye, her swollen lids, even the crack in her bottom lip from tugging on it with her teeth. I hate seeing the injuries, but I’m unable to meet the storm of her beautiful eyes. I’d never be able to tear myself away and show indifference.
“Ah, so I see the love is one-sided.” Archie’s smug words grate on my ears and I’d give anything at this minute to rip his face off.
“Tell him you love me.” Her whispered, trusting, words rip a hole the size of the fucking earth through my chest as I glare at Archie.
“No.” I spin around and grab her. She glances at my hand wound tight around her wrist. Panic floods every one of her features. “What makes you think you’re so special?” I let out a wry laugh and my heart shreds into confetti when her face crumples. “You’re just like the rest, love. A quick fuck.” I force a look of distaste onto my face. “Well, you were a bit better than the rest. That’s why I kept you around.”
Every lie coming out of my mouth kills a little more of her light. Tears cascade down her face, and I want to take the gun at my back and blow my own fucking brains out. I want to scoop her in my arms, ask for her forgiveness. Beg for her forgiveness. But I can’t. And it’s killing me.
They’re watching every move I make, and the only way she is getting out of here alive is if they think she means nothing to me. Even then, the chances are remote. But if there’s one thing I can do well it’s lie. Her storm-ridden eyes search mine, delving deep into my soul. I throw her wrist back, unable to cope with the fact I’m hurting her.
“Did you honestly believe you kept me entertained enough to not fuck around? Thought that hot pussy of yours was powerful enough to make me love you?” I let out another harsh laugh. “When I’ve been out for a drink with the lads, did you really not think the night ended without some other girl’s mouth wrapped around my dick, or my cock deep in some slut’s arse? Are you really that naive?” I just need to get her free. Then I’ll do whatever Archie asks. Because I’ll have no reason to live.
No recognition of my lies flickers on her face and I may as well have just slapped her with the way she shrinks away from me. But I catch sight of it; the golden flecks flare in the grey and I know what she’s going to do before she even makes a move. I stand my ground and brace myself for the impact, as she steps forward and strikes me hard across the face.
“You’re a worthless bastard,” she snarls. Turning her attention to Archie, she screams at him, “Why? Why would you do this?”
The smug bastard smirks. “Because, Elizabeth… You took one son from me; you aren’t destroying the other one.”
Lizzie falters and stares at me, her gaze flicking back to Archie like she can see something I can’t.
“What the fuck is going on?” He’s trying to mess with my head.
“Elizabeth was my son’s partner. Has she ever told you about Mac?”
“I’m fucking her, hard, just how she likes it. She’s doesn’t get to tell me her life story.” The lies continue to fall from my lips while my brain tries to piece together all the jumbled parts.
Lizzie turns, her face wild with rage, and charges me. Her small frame’s no match for my larger one. Her fists pummel into my chest but have no impact. I clasp her against me to stop her arms from flailing, and soak in the last time I’ll have her body against mine.
“Will somebody get this crazy bitch out of here?” My yell echoes around the hangar as her sobs reverberate against my chest. Every part of me is at its limits. I’ve no idea how much longer I can maintain this false front; it cracks and crumbles with each tear falling from Lizzie’s eyes. The angel in my arms needs to be out of here before this whole thing shatters her. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever come across, but if I’m near my breaking point, she’ll soon be over the edge.
Jase pulls her from my arms, and my whole body protests at her loss. Something passes over his face as she struggles in his hold.
“Alex?” Lizzie cries. She stops fighting and stands stock-still. I turn to see who she’s talking to and come face to face with Zander. His expression says the usual ‘couldn’t give a fuck’ when he glances at me, but it fades a little as his gaze falls on Lizzie.
The world rocks beneath my feet. Zander is Alex? Lizzie’s Alex. The one she’s always mentioning. Bear’s cousin, Zander, is fucking ‘Alex’? He’s been with her all this time?
He walks over and takes Lizzie from Jase. She barrages him with questions but instead of answering them he spins her so her back is to his front and clamps his hand down over her mouth. Her wide eyes find mine and new tears spill over onto her cheeks. My internal battle of wanting to kill the bastard but being unable to subsides when she clenches her jaw. From the look on Zander’s face, she made pretty good contact with her teeth into his hand. Good girl.
He leans forward and whispers something in her ear. She stiffens and nods her head. I try and communicate to her that it’ll work out. She’ll be okay. Me, I can’t vouch for. But I’ll do anything I can to make sure she’s set free.
Everything’s fucked up. I’m so confused my head’s spinning, but I resist the urge to turn and watch when they usher her away. Instead I force myself to listen to the soul-destroying whimpers as they fade out, and pray she doesn’t give up.
Cold on the outside, but burning up with rage on the inside, I gather my senses. “So, say again, why did you want me here?”
“Two reasons. I have a problem; one you are familiar with. Alberto Zaffino. You remember him? He remembers you…”
I nod my head, as the feeling of iced water trickles down my spine.
“Well, I’ve been doing some business with him. The Dogs have been doing some of his… dirty work, shall we say? It’s been good but now he wants more from me, which is interesting news, but as proof of my allegiance he wants… you.” His gaze pins me as I roll my neck to ease the tension in it. “So, this leads to my second reason.” A cocky smirk crosses his face. “Imagine my surprise when I looked into you, delved into your past, and discovered you are my son.”
His last word sinks in and my world, which was already shattered, obliterates into thin air.
THIS CAN’T BE fucking happening. I can’t be related to those two men.
“You lying motherfucker.” I laugh, trying to play it off, but my façade slips south. I’m clawing to hold onto it, grasping with every muscle.
“Your mother was very willing. Looks like we have similar taste in women.”
“My birth mother was a teenage girl who’d been stupid enough to get involved with a married man, by all accounts. A father isn’t even named on my birth certificate. So, tell me, Archie, are you the sick fuck who knocked up a teenager then didn’t have the balls to deal with the consequences?” I tilt my head and examine him. His nostrils flare. It’s obvious my questions are getting to the bastard.
But then, a sneer crosses his face. “No. She told me she was aborting you.”
Un-fucking-believable.
“Funny.” But I’m not laughing. “I must be a hard fucker to get rid of then.” I glare at him, and he squirms a little. “So, Daddy Dearest, tell me what you’re wasting my time for? Give me something to make me stay. Because the way I see it, apart from some twisted revenge on your son’s ex, you’ve achieved nothing.”
“Elizabeth deserves everything she gets.”
One way or another this fucker is going to die. It’s make or break time, and I need to stand by my convictions. “I’m done.” I stand up and stride over to the exit. “You’re wasting my time.”
Jase has come back and stands beside my way out, guarding it. As I walk towards him, he raises his Glock and aims straight for my forehead. One shot, one kill. From working with him, I know it’d be a miracle for him to miss.
My heart rate steadies into an even beat. The finality of the situation brings some form of calm to my chaos. As I step in closer, the barrel digs into my skin. “You seriously think I’m bothered about dying?” I raise my eyebrows. My hushed words only for Jase’s ears. “I’ve just found out the blood in my veins is from the pits of hell. My supposed half-brother tried to rape the woman I love. And you think I’m fucking bothered about my life?” My breaths labour as I attempt to control the agony, which spikes in my chest as the truth sinks in. “What the fuck do I have left?” I’m either signing both mine and Lizzie’s death warrants, or laying my world open for a friend.
“Shit, Noah. Play the game.” His voice is almost inaudible, and his eyes plead with me.
I know for sure Jase is somehow linked with Bear, and the weight on my chest lifts a fraction, but the heat in my veins renews with force. Bear hasn’t set me up for a fall; he’s using me as bait. And I’m going to beat the living shit out of the lying bastard when I get my hands on him.
“Just fucking do it.” My yelled words echo around the cavernous hangar.
With my eyes trained on Jase, I hear the sound of light footsteps creeping closer. My muscles flex, ready to unarm the men behind me, but Jase gives an imperceptible nod. I need to make a choice. Do I maintain the trust in Bear I’ve had for years, or do I die here? The thought of Lizzie left in the possession of Archie hastens my decision and the trust in my friend wins out.
I pray I’m right.
Jase’s left hand loosens on his weapon, giving me the in I need. I drop my left shoulder and twist my body away from the firing line, simultaneously bringing up my left hand to grab the inside of his right wrist, drawing his arm across my body. The gun goes off as I rotate my torso, further extending his arm, and then wrench it down behind his back. The telltale crack of breaking fingers and the sudden intake of breath from Jase hits me as I twist the gun from his grasp. Jerking him back against me, I bring the weapon to rest under his chin.
My gaze comes to rest on two guys I’ve never seen before, their weapons cocked and trained on me.
“No, no. I need him alive.” Archie strides over, waving his arms.
“For what?” I spit out.
“For my plan to work.”
“What. Fucking. Plan?”
Jase struggles against me. I release him and push him away from me, then take his legs from under him with a swift kick. He falls on the floor and clutches his broken hand, a sly smile on his lips. Crazy bastard loves this shit.
The two armed men slowly lower their weapons, and wait for further instruction.
Thoughts whirl through my mind, and it hits me. This isn’t me anymore. This isn’t who I want to be. I’d be happy running Ignition, coming home to a family every night. Not doing this shit.
Preoccupied with my thoughts, I don’t pick up movement behind me until it’s close. I swing around to be greeted with the butt end of a rifle impacting my temple. My head flies back, taking me off balance, and my vision fogs, but I catch a glimpse of the assailant before everything fades out. I realise I’m right royally screwed. I’ve seen the face in front of me a million times over the years. The bastard who knocks me out is Bear.
I wake, back to the floor, with a splitting headache. I raise a hand to my temple and take a sharp breath when I press against the tender, broken flesh. The heavy smell of gunfire lingers in the air, burning my nostrils. My vision blurs when I lift my head from the ground. A few seconds later, the fuzz disappears, but I’m unable to focus. I squint through the darkness, the only glimmer of light coming from around the thick metal door.
Just fucking great.
I’m in the dead room in the slaughterhouse.
What the hell am I going to do now? Different escape tactics swim around my mind, but they all end the same way. I don’t have a problem with death. It’s easy to come to terms with when the possibilities outweigh any other scenario. I’ve been here before, by choice. Bear saved my arse last time. This time he’s the fucker responsible, and that card being dealt changes the game.
Every muscle aches when I pull myself up and against the far wall. Lizzie’s here somewhere and I need to get to her. In my mind, I try and map the layout over and over, knowing I have numerous obstacles to overcome. Namely, one big fucking one. How the hell am I getting out of here? I check my back, but unsurprisingly, the gun Jase gave me is gone.
Beyond the holding room is the arena. Most of the offices, which run down the length of the hangar, have been converted into dorms, the surveillance rooms built above them. The others have been converted to gyms. At the far end is where I’m at. The slaughterhouse. Custom-built walls inside to minimise noise deflection. The armoury sits on the right-hand side, roughly halfway down, and there’s canteen in the middle where you can sit and eat while watching people get the shit kicked out of them in the arena.
My escape options skitter through my mind and I wind up with one. My only choice. Unless by some act of great stupidity they left the door unlocked, my only choice is to overpower whoever comes to get me.
I only have to wait for a few more minutes before the electric buzz sounds from the digital lock on the door. It opens a fraction but doesn’t move further. More light seeps in. It would have been better for me if the lights were off, but I suppose I’ll have to make do. Just as I wonder if this whole scenario is another trap, the door pushes wide open. The sudden brightness has me reaching to cover my eyes while my vision adjusts.
Backlit, a looming figure enters the room. Zander, Glock in one hand, rope in the other.
“Where’s Lizzie?” The question spills from my lips before I have time to think.
Zan laughs, but it has no humour. “She’s safe.”
“Theodore too busy to deal with his dirty work?” I can’t bring myself to call him ‘Bear.’ Rubbing my fingers on my forehead, I try to relieve some tension, but it has no effect. Until she’s out of here, nothing will ease it.
He walks further in, crouches down in front of me, and tosses the gun between his hands. To my surprise he flicks on the safety and places it on the floor, followed by the rope. “Bear’s busy.”
My gaze goes straight to the weapon on the floor and back to Zander. “Have you been with her since she left?”
“We haven’t got time for this, but yes, I have. I can’t tell you why or how.” His lips widen into a broad grin. “And I know you’re thinking of picking up the gun and killing me.”
“You know me well.”
“No, Noah. I don’t think I know you at all. But what I do know is you are going to let me tie your hands behind your back and then you’re going to let me take you out into the arena.”
I eye the gun again. “What makes you so sure?”
“Because, for all you said out there, I know the woman locked up in the dorms means everything to you. You won’t leave here until every last one of the guys who hurt her is dead.” He rubs his hands down his thighs. “I also know you won’t be able to help her from in here.”
I meet his gaze. There’s no point pretending he’s wrong. “I thought you said you didn’t know me?”
“I haven’t seen you in a long time, Noah. The man you are now isn’t the one I last drank with.” He stands up, leaving the items on the ground. “So you have a choice to make. What’s it going to be?”
Again, my mind processes my chances of success. Taking Zander down now would seem like the best option, or is it?
I rub my hands down my face, caked-on dried blood under my fingernails. The reminder of the betrayal from my friend, which stings more than I thought possible. He checks his watch. “You’ve got about thirty seconds left to make your choice.”
My mind made up, I get to my feet, turn around, and put my hands behind my back. He makes quick work of binding me. The knot is tight as I tug against it, but it’s not unworkable.
“I think you dropped this.” He picks up the weapon, pulls the magazine, checks the rounds, and then shows it to me. “Seventeen rounds, Noah, that’s all. Make them count.” Then like Jase, he pushes the gun into the back of my jeans.
“Tell me what the fuck’s going on.”
“No.”
I can’t fucking stand not knowing who’s on whose side. When I think I have it figured out, it gets all screwed up again.
He leads me from the dead room through the maze of the slaughterhouse and back out into the arena. My steps falter when I see Lizzie once again, bound, gagged, and blindfolded in a chair. Zander leads me to a seat opposite her and forces me to sit.
Lizzie’s lips tremble around the fabric strung across her mouth, her body visibly shakes, but she doesn’t make a sound. I try to figure out if that’s a good thing or a bad one. The helplessness which overruns me almost makes me give up hope. But there is no chance I can leave her here. Zander tenses in my peripheral and it pulls my gaze from Lizzie. I need to get my brain in the game, because while I was distracted, the room has filled with men.
Have they touched her? My gaze falls back on Lizzie; her chest heaves and falls, each breath laboured and shallow. Lowering my head, I close my eyes and let the fire return. Allow it to burn me up inside. When the inferno is fierce deep inside me, I roll my neck. Keeping my head down, I reopen my eyes. The first person my gaze lands on is Archie. Nothing but pure hatred fills my blood.
With him are four men I have never seen before. Accompanying them are the two from earlier and Bear’s team, including the bastard himself. Fourteen men. I size each of them up while they take their places around the arena. All of them except Zander stay in front of me. Archie’s obviously rattled if he needs fourteen fucking men for me and my girl.
I eyeball Archie as he drags over another chair. He flips it around and sits with arms folded over the backrest. “You had a good sleep, son?”
