His fury was leading him. How dare she!
He would have ripped her arms off if the goons she’d brought with her hadn’t held him back.
She pointed a blaster at Polly. “You don’t listen,” she said and yanked Polly out of the room. “Bring them both. We have to get this mess over with.”
Polly reached for her little weapon.
“So now you work for the clans?” Erzo fired back at her.
“I work for me,” Breal snapped. And she smacked Polly’s hand, before she pulled the weapon. “And no tricks.”
Polly stopped, her eyes wide. The terror on her face made him sick.
He hated who he was, who Breal had turned out to be, and who his people were more than anything at the moment.
This wasn’t the return Erzo had wanted.
His world tilted—Breal knew everything. And here she was, taking advantage of that. The betrayal that stabbed him inside made him want to vomit.
Now, who could he possibly trust?
The accomplices grabbed him, one on each side, and they started hauling him out, and Breal kept a hold of Polly.
Polly fought against Breal, jerking out of her grip.
Breal grabbed Polly’s hair. “Knock it off, transaction,” she snarled.
Polly winced.
Erzo growled.
Breal glanced at him. Smirked, and headed out the door, hauling Polly.
Rage flew through Erzo, replacing the pain of the betrayal. He cried out and swung his arms, slamming against the ones who held him.
One flew into the wall, knocking over an art piece. It clattered hard against the floor.
He leaped toward Polly just as something hit him on the top of his head, and a pinch on his neck.
“Calm down, Erzo. This isn’t how you go see family…”
The words faded away, and everything went dark.
26
“Erzo!” Polly cried out, tears streaming down her face. Erzo dropped to the ground after one attacker came from behind and shot something into his neck. She struggled to get to him, but the girl held her back.
“He’s fine,” the girl, Breal, said. She kept a tight grip on her arms. “Relax.”
“He just hit the ground,” Polly said.
“He’s not dead,” the girl replied. “I will not kill my future mate.”
The words hit Polly in the gut. This was who he was going to marry, who he was supposed to be engaged to.
His friend.
The one who wasn’t supposed to want to be with him. Or so he kept saying. Kidnapping him isn’t really matching that narrative up, though.
