Carlisle hands me a pair of pliers. After pausing to peel off my jacket and hand it to one of the men, I kneel. Then I dig my nails into the man’s cheeks, eliciting a howl of pain. He squirms and tries to scramble back, but Carlisle holds him firmly in place as I lift one of the man’s fingers and study it. In the background, my right hand man makes a few phone calls then returns to whisper something in my ear.
“It’s amazing how much pain a human can endure,” I say as I stroke his finger. I wait for another moment and smile. “You can bring a man to the brink of death over and over, but you know what really drives the point home? Giving a man hope and then snatching it away. Say, for example, that little family you have tucked away in the suburbs. Good call, making sure they have a different last name.”
The color drains from his face as he sucks in a harsh breath. “You’re bluffing.”
My smile grows wider. “You sure you want to take that chance? Your twins already hate you. Imagine their last thought being of how their father failed them.”
His eyes tighten, and he yanks on his restraints. “They have nothing to do with this. Leave them alone.”
I position the pliers over his fingernail and tug. “Don’t they? You went after my family tonight, so it’s only fair that I return the favor.”
Thin beads of sweat roll down his face as I tug harder.
I keep my eyes fixed on his face as I yank out the fingernail, and he throws his head back, a hiss of pain slicing through the night air. When he tilts his head to look at me, I see fear and know I’m close to breaking him.
I’ll do whatever needs to be done to bring London home.
“I will rip you apart and leave you bleeding,” I tell him. “You’ll beg me to end your life. If that doesn’t work, your family will learn about consequences the hard way.”
With that, I rise to my feet and motion to Carlisle.
He hands me a large leather bag, and I open it and peruse my options. Underneath the pale light of the moon, I know the prisoner is studying the tools and wondering how far he can take this before he breaks. I roll my shoulders and reach for a small, silver chainsaw.
I hold it up to the light and hear the man swallow. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”
***
Carlisle and another man drag the man’s inert body as I watch, the smell of blood filling my nostrils. Once they disappear, I return to scanning the area as my hope grows fainter. Little by little, my men clear out until only Carlisle and I are left.
I’m still reviewing my options as Carlisle drives us home for a debrief.
I’m not giving up, but I need some time to think where it’s safe.
Leaving the estate means I’m exposed, and there’s too many eyes and ears everywhere for me to do what needs to be done.
I’m going to find London, no matter how long it takes.
The wrought-iron gates open, and I do a double-take when I see London on the front steps, her hair matted, and her wet clothes clinging to her. She stands as the car stops. I also see Katia in the shadows with her left arm in a sling and a cut down the side of her face. She doesn’t flinch when I give her a withering look before crushing London to me.
She’s warm and solid and real, but it doesn’t dull the roaring in my ears.
My chest aches as I linger for a moment longer, needing to make sure she doesn’t disappear.
Relief and frustration pump steadily through me as I draw back to look at her, hungrily drinking her in.
Half of me wants to lock her away forever, and the other half wants to keep her chained to my side.
London is going to be the death of me, I’m sure of it.
“It’s good to see you, too,” London says. “I thought it would be better if I waited for you out here.”
I tuck her into my side and turn to Katia. “I’ll deal with you later.”
“Don’t take it out on her. I forced her—”
I silence London with one look. She snaps her mouth shut, and I half-drag, half-carry her into the house, past my irate-looking father and my disgruntled brother in the foyer. Upstairs, I throw the door to my master room open and motion to London. She reluctantly steps in and turns to face me.
The door clicks shut, and I say nothing as I peel off my jacket and throw it onto a chair. London stares at me, myriad emotions dancing across her face. After a long pause, she clears her throat.
