“Mr. Quinlan,” she purrs, stepping closer. “Mr. Black thought you might want company, seeing you’re stuck here tonight.” She shrugs the coat from her shoulders. It slides to the floor, revealing alabaster skin in nothing but a black thong. “It’s cold. Can I come inside and get warm?”
My eyes blaze with anger, as if I’d fuck this woman. As if I’m that low of a scumbag. I lean in, close enough for her to take in the heat of my skin that she will never feel. “Get the fuck out. Leave before you get hurt in a way you won’t enjoy.”
“Mr. Black’s guards love me,” she says, gathering her coat. “Your loss.” She disappears down the snow-cleared pathway without another word.
I shut the door quietly. Then I just stand there, staring at the grain of the wood, my hand still braced against it.
They sent her to test me. Or distract me.
Now I really can’t call Trace. They will absolutely storm this place to get me out. I don’t trust what Black will do to Fallon if he sees an army he can’t win against at his gate.
I sit back and drag a hand through my hair. I look out the window and glare at the main house. She’s in there somewhere. Sleeping in silk sheets. Or locked behind iron bars.
It’s up tometo get her out. I strip off my dinner jacket and find some notepaper to sketch every hallway, every entry point, every exit. If I’m going to thunder in there toget her, it needs to be now, and I’ll need to be fast and brutal. Kill a lot of people. And possibly not make it out.
I open my duffel and laugh when I see they didn’t check the hidden compartment. I peel it open and smile faintly at the two compact pistols. Lightweight, polymer-framed, perfect for close-quarters. Both are loaded with high-capacity magazines and hollow-point rounds that will punch through flesh like paper.
I have enough for one fast, vicious strike. Enough to cut my way through this entire goddamn compound if I have to.
And if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.
Gladly.
I set the weapons on the counter for my attack in a few hours and catch some sleep. But an insistent knock pounds on the door and shakes me from my power nap. I shove everything back into the bag but keep one gun tucked into the back of my jeans, my fingers curled around the handle.
As I peer through the window, I see Elias Black standing on the porch.
His face is pale. His eyes hollow.
I unlock the door and pull it open. “What?”
“There’s been an accident,” he says grimly.
Chapter 48
Fallon
The first thing I feel is an aching cold gnawing through my skin, clawing into bone. My head swims, thoughts coming together slow and muddy. It’s like my brain has been dipped in syrup. I shiver so hard my teeth clack together. A thin blanket scratches against my skin, stiff from harsh detergent.
Everything is blurry and warped, shadows melting into one another. I blink, my lashes sticking together. Feeling crud in my eye, I go to wipe it away, but something prevents me from raising my arm.
Chains.
Forcing my eyes open, I shudder. I know exactly where I am.
In my father’s dark, concrete subterranean system of cells, where the taste of death lingers in the air.
Over the years, my father punished me down here. Sometimes for days, until I yielded to his rules. Then, I was released, but other prisoners were not as lucky. Most never left this hellhole. And the stench of their long-dead bodies makes me gag.
A biting sting at the crook of my elbow steals my focus. I look around and shiver at the familiar glint of clear tubing.
An IV.
No.
Not again.
My fingers tremble as I reach for the little piece of tape holding it to my skin. I’ve ripped the needle out before and felt alive for a few defiant seconds before the world went white around me.
