Feeling like a giant hand was squeezing the top of his head, Thomas clenched his teeth, moving swiftly to the bedroom. "What are you talking about, Michael? This game has been played and you know what happened to Ben." The room was empty, and he strangled the roar that wanted to erupt from his throat. Moving swiftly to the terrace, the only place she could have been taken, Thomas noticed her shoe, lying on its side on the next balcony.
"I'm sure you've noticed Lauren's absence?" Now, it was the ugly, gloating tone of the unmitigated piece of shite with whom he unwillingly shared blood.
"MacGowen," Thomas's voice was so cold that it felt like frostbite, just to hear it. "Even as stupid as you are, I did not think you suicidal." Straker chose that moment to poke his head in the door and stilled, seeing his employer's white face.
His half-brother laughed, sort of a donkey-like chortle that didn't sound like Mac really found anything amusing. "You've lost your touch, Williams. I snatched her right behind your back. There will be no mix-ups with cello cases this time."
Thomas tapped his throat looking at Straker and mouthing the words'tracking device?'Yanking out his phone, the bodyguard opened the app and nodded. It was amazing how much he could gather from several violent gestures from his boss including,Get all the people loyal to me in cars with guns, and tell Martinsson if he wants a deal he better have every armed thug he owns following you within 10 minutes.Returning his attention to the phone, Thomas's tone changed, crueler and more indifferent. "If you think that holding a pretty little girl over my head is going to make me give up The Corporation that I've built for over a decade, you're even more of an idiot than our father thought." There was a silence, McGowan for once not having an instant retort. "He did say that you know," Thomas purred maliciously. "You do know that he came over to visit his second family every week," he lied easily, "most of his complaints centered upon what a dimwit you were. Is that why you tried to carve out my kidneys McGowan, that day in the shower? You weren't really angry about being taken to task for one little sexual assault, were you?"
If this had been any other time, Thomas would have truly enjoyed delivering this vicious monologue, but now all he could think of was Lauren tied up under this rapist's control and possibly hurt. But he knew making his half-brother furious would make him sloppy. Careless. Thomas was also quite certain that Fassell was supremely self-interested, rather than insane like his loathsome half-brother. He wouldn't let MacGowen hurt Lauren as long as she was useful as a bargaining chip. Thomas continued on inexorably. "True, it would be a touch awkward if I showed up without my wife tonight, but finding another pretty girl to take her place is hardly a task." Here, his hand shook as he disconnected the call, breathing deeply and trying to push down the nauseating rise of terror in his stomach. Straker already had the men in the SUV and Thomas slid in the passenger seat.
For the first time in his career, Straker questioned his boss. "Do you think it was wise to antagonize him so?" he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel as if choking the life out of it.
Thomas drew a deep, shaky breath. "He couldn't have risen so far in Bratva without some self-control," he managed between gritted teeth. "In addition, that idiot Fassell knows how important my- my wife is to me. He's too self-interested to let her be hurt." Thomas barked directions, following the app tracking his wife and beginning to flounder in the fear that for once, maybe he wasn't right.
"Wake up, bitch!"
Lauren groaned, rolling over on what turned out to be a rather lumpy couch trying to bring her hands up to rub her face and finding them handcuffed. Opening her bleary eyes, she found the malevolent countenance of MacGowen glaring at her. Whatever he'd jabbed into her neck was making her dizzy and sick. "Hey, could I have a glass of water? This feels-"
He shoved her, hard, into the arm of the couch. "Shut up!" Leaning closer again, MacGowen grinned. "Do you know, we tried to ransom you off to Williams? He said, and I quote, 'finding another pretty girl to take her place is hardly a task.' You're not as valuable as we thought."
Rolling her eyes, Lauren found this was a mistake as her nausea spiked and she found herself throwing up on MacGowen's pants and expensive loafers. This earned her a hard slap from the vomit-covered man, who raised his hand again.
"Put your hand down, Mac! Are you mad? Thomas will pull your fingers off with pliers for that. No harm, remember? She's bait." Lauren's eyes narrowed as Number Three hastened into the room, glaring irritably at the other man.
MacGowen grabbed a bar towel, trying to wipe off his pants. "Williams said he didn't want the whore back. He said she wasn't worth The Corporation."
Fassell sighed, rubbing his neck. "Trust me, he's lying to you. Go... ugh. Go clean yourself off and we'll make a little video for Number Two. Something with Lauren all pretty and crying." He smiled down at her unpleasantly as the other man stormed from the room. When MacGowen was gone, his expression changed abruptly. "Lauren, stop making trouble! Just keep your mouth shut until we make a deal with Thomas. His brother wants his position more than killing you, but let's not give him an excuse."
Lauren wiped her unpleasantly wet chin on her dress, "What is wrong with you, Michael? You're teaming up with this rapist asshole?"
He shook his head irritably, but still rose to fetch her a bottle of water. "This is a period of change; I have bigger things to pay attention to. Now just shut up so we can get this deal over with."
She cocked her head incredulously. "Dude, are you serious? You really teamed up with MacGowen? Against THOMAS? Are you suicidal? And where's Clara in all of this?" At this point, Lauren was quite clear where Clara was, but she wanted to know what the girl's husband seemed to think.
Michael flapped his hand dismissively. "She's back at the hotel, like a good girl. An obedient wife. Not like you and Arabella. Jesus, she turned out to be a loose cannon, eh?"
He really believes his own bullshit,Lauren marveled silently. Casting an anxious look at the door, she focused on Fassell again. "Look, you know this is nuts! Just get back with Thomas and hand me over. This can't end in any way but bad. Are you remembering Kingston? The cello case?" He really did look a little green around the gills, but before he could speak, MacGowen was stomping back into the room and over to her, grabbing her hair and yanking her upright.
"You shut up! I should beat you bloody for soiling my clothes- those were Gucci Braxton's! But I'll take it out of you the hard way." He advanced on her threateningly, as Fassell's voice rose, trying to calm him down.
"Where are they!" Thomas turned angrily from one direction to the other. The tracker stopped here, in a green space between two old buildings.
Straker groaned, "Oh, lass..." The St. Margaret's medal was lying in the sparse grass, the chain ripped apart. He picked it up, turning it over and over in his big, rough hands. Williams's phone rang then, and he almost dropped Lauren's necklace.
Numbly clicking the Facetime button, Thomas watched as the grinning face of the monster he shared blood with showed up in the screen of his phone. "Ah, did you just find the wifey's necklace? Nice effort, Williams. Really. A little amateurish, but..."
Thomas was composed, wearing the same expression of urbane amusement as always. "Yes. I'm guessing that Number Three actually thought of sweeping her for a tracker, but we'll just pretend it you," he winked confidentially, watching as MacGowen's face darkened again. "So, now that you've been terribly clever, just tell me where my wife is, and I'll let you live. I won't even carve off any souvenirs."
Lauren's face was pulled into the tiny screen, and she smiled at him. "Hi honey, sorry about the hotel. Are we gonna be late for the party? Those Bratva wives get so mad when we're not there for the appetizers."
"It's fine darling," he soothed, "I'm sure Clara is making our excuses." There was a sudden yelp of surprise from behind Lauren, and she turned her head to smirk at the man, clearly Number Three.
"Yeah, Michael. Not so obedient now, huh?"
"Shut UP, you sow!" MacGowen had ripped away the phone and there was a sharp sound of a hand hitting skin.
A low growl from Thomas made him look up. "That just cost you a hand, brother dear. Shall we continue?" For the first time, his father's other son looked uncertain. "Just tell me where we're meeting," Thomas said impatiently, "and yes, I'm sure the next thing out of your mouth is the overused phrase 'come alone.' So dramatic. That's the whole point of this pathetic little stunt, isn't it? So, get on with it. We have a party to attend."
