He chuckles, like my pain is the most amusing thing he’s seen all day. Hell, he’s a sadistic motherfucker, so maybe it is. “Marianne was at least graceful enough to accept her place in this family and do what was required of her for the good of the Malone name.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to say anything before he shoves the door open and climbs out.
For a blissful moment, I think he’s going to leave me here, that he’s going to give me an opportunity to run, but then a hulking security guard reaches into the car and tugs me out.
He has the courtesy to be gentler than the cop was at the airfield, but short of shoving me to the ground, that probably isn’t a difficult feat.
As badly as I want to give up, to curl up in the nearest corner and cease to exist because the agony in my chest is so deep, that’s not what the guys would want, and I owe it to them to fight.
Even if it was only for a few weeks, they gave me the kind of peace I’d only ever dreamed of, which means I owe them everything.
I’m escorted into an elevator, the guard holding on to my arm the whole time like he’s fully expecting me to make a run for it. Which is probably fair, seeing as I was just thinking about doing that very thing just a few minutes ago.
Granddad is typing away on his phone, as if he didn’t just have the men I love executed in broad daylight by the police, and like he didn’t kidnap me from that same airfield.
“There’s pepper spray and a taser in your purse. Use them if you need to. If you feel threatened or scared, don’t hesitate.”
Asher’s words come back to me as we ascend, and my fingers wrap around the strap of my purse that’s still hanging from my shoulder. I don’t remember grabbing it from the car, but maybeit was muscle memory, a natural thing to do, even in the throes of grief.
I bite down on my bottom lip as I try to decide how to play this.
Unfortunately, as much as I would love to think I have the speed and reflexes to take them both out at once, that’s just not the case, and trying would get me in a whole lot of trouble.
If I have any chance of pulling this off, I have to be smart about it.
Jeffrey slips his phone into his pocket and turns to face me with a sneer. His eyes track over what I’m wearing and the state that I’m in. I’ve barely stopped crying since I woke up this morning, so I can’t imagine I’m going to make a good impression on anyone he plans on introducing me to today. Which hopefully means he won’t bother at all.
“Take her to the restroom to clean herself up.” He notices my purse on my shoulder, and for a second, I think I’m about to be busted, that somehow he knows Asher packed the tiny bag full of things that can hurt them. “I trust you havesomethingin there that will make you presentable. Unfortunately, I expected that you would take some pride in your appearance and didn’t bring you a change of clothes, so that will have to do.”
I’m about to ask what I need to be presentable for, but the doors slide open before I get the chance, and I’m once again shoved forward.
I wish these assholes would stop manhandling me like a fucking doll, but as we break off from Granddad and the door to the restroom is held open for me, I realize I’m about to be left alone, even if it’s just for a handful of minutes.
“Be quick, and no funny business,” the guard grunts before sliding his eyes over the set of stalls, finding each door wide open and no one waiting for us.
I don’t know why they would be, or even who he thinks he might find.
The only people who would come for me are dead.
A fresh wave of distress tugs in my chest. How is it possible that I’ll never see them again? I’ll never be in their arms again, never feel their lips on mine, never have the bone-deep knowledge that everything is going to be okay just because they’re with me.
I clutch at my chest, dragging in ragged breaths as I try, and fail, to pull myself together.
It hurts so much.
It’s barely been an hour, and yet somehow I can barely remember a time before this agony.
I drag a deep breath in and meet my own eyes in the mirror.
I look every bit as disheveled as I feel—tear tracks down my cheeks, puffy eyes, torn leggings, and dried blood on my hands.
God, I could have my entire beauty set up in this purse, and it wouldn’t have a hope of making me look human.
Forcing myself forward, I carefully wash my hands, allowing the cool water to soothe the tender skin. Once I’m satisfied all the dirt and grime are gone, I bend forward and splash my face. It’s not going to do much, but it might be enough to bring down some of the inflammation around my eyes.
I glance back up into the mirror and find the same haunted eyes staring back at me.
“I can do this,” I whisper hoarsely. “Iwilldo this. For them.”
