Chapter Thirty-One
RILEY
As of this very moment,there are only two things I know for sure. The first is that I am in love with Kieran Sullivan. The second is that Sean O’Keefe is going to kill me before I ever get the chance to tell him. To beg for his forgiveness.
“Where the hell are you taking me?” I demand as the car jerks to a stop.
“Yernew home.” His lips pull back over his teeth.
My door is yanked open, and before I can get another word out, a hand grabs my wounded arm.
I don’t have a chance to scream before he pulls me backward out of the car.
“Let me go!” I thrash against the man, but his hold on me only tightens.
Sean chuckles.
Of course, the bastard is enjoying every second of my pain.
I try not to let the tears fall, but the pain in my arm is blinding, and it’s all I can do to stay conscious.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he growls. “Blindfold her.”
“Wait! Stop!” I struggle as another one of Sean’s men steps up in front of me, carrying a bloodied piece of fabric in his tattooed hand and wearing a sneer that makes my skin crawl.
I gag as it’s placed around my eyes, the metallic stench making my stomach churn as my world is plunged into darkness and my hands are bound behind my back.
I try to tell myself not to panic, but it’s almost impossible not to, considering that I am completely at the mercy of Sean and his men.
More men move around me, their boots crunching against the gravel followed by the dull clink of metal.
Sean’s voice comes from somewhere behind me, calm and almost amused.
“Careful with her. I don’t want her to break before I have a chance to get started.”
The men around me laugh, and my pulse spikes as I’m forced forward.
In the darkness, every step I take makes me off balance. I try to focus on what I can hear and smell, to find any indication of where the hell Sean has taken me, but all I can smell is gasoline and damp soil. I can hear the faint echo of water dripping somewhere nearby and the distant hum of traffic, but not much else.
Wherever we are, it’s clearly isolated, which doesn’t bode well for Kieran finding me.
That is, of course, if Kieran is still alive.
“Keep moving,” one of the men snarls, shoving me hard enough that I almost lose my balance.
Every instinct in me screams to run, but there’s nowhere to go.
My wrists are bound behind my back, and the gun pressed into my spine is an unspoken warning of what will happen if I try.
“Please. You don’t have to do this.”
“Quiet,” one of them snaps.
A hand closes around my upper arm, their fingers biting into my skin hard enough to bruise.
I’m shoved again, and I stumble forward.
The sound of metal scraping against metal rings in my ears, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching.
