I’m nearly there too, thrusting, ready to get to the end, when a sound comes from outside her bedroom. Maybe just Lowes or Hayes, but I have a sick feeling in my gut, the sort I’ve learned to trust.
Renee is too caught up in the moment to notice, but I’m on edge, pulling out.
“Aren’t you gonna come?” she asks.
“Give me a second.”
I carry her to the bed, listening for any sound coming from the other side of the door. I hurry to my pants and retrieve my gun.
“Logan, what’s—”
“Shh.”
I approach the door and call out, “Lowes?”
Silence.
“Hayes?”
Shit.
This was not how my birthday was supposed to go. Well, aside from fucking a gorgeous woman. That was definitely supposed to happen, but I would’ve preferred to come.
I move close to the door, starting to open it when there’s athudand it flies open, knocking me back. I try to aim, but two guys rush me, seizing my wrists.
What the hell?Before I know it, there’s a bag over my head and they’re carrying me off. Fuck, is this how I die? Edged and needing release? On my goddamn birthday?
*
Left. Right. Right.Left. Down a set of stairs.
Right.
More stairs.
I count steps as I struggle in the zip tie locked around my wrists, twisting and contorting my body as my abductors haul me through a building. If I’m about to die, I won’t make it easy on these fuckers.
After they pulled my ass from Renee’s condo complex, they shoved me into a car. About fifteen minutes later they yanked me out and started dragging me through wherever the hell we are now, and despite my attempts, I’m not making muchprogress. These guys are pros. Exacting revenge on behalf of one of the Wildes’ enemies? It wouldn’t be a huge surprise, given the shifting powers now that the O’Dells are moving their business to Chicago. Maybe the Cronkites or the Dementes? There are so many options when you’re the eldest son of one of the legacy families of the drug-trafficking underworld of Fury.
Despite their strength, my contortions force one of my abductors to release my arm, but just as quickly, he seizes control, hooking an arm around my throat.
“Keep on trying me, motherfucker,” he says. “I dare you.”
The chilly blade of a knife tenses against my throat, and I know I’d better go along with this. There are only two guys, which gives me hope that if I can stay alive, I might be able to escape.
No need to die. Not just yet.
Left. Right. More steps.
Finally, we stop. I hear Knife Guy’s blade retract. Sounds like he’s tucked it away, then begins punching into a keypad before abeepand theclickof a lock. Given how long it took to get to this part of the building, I figure it’s our destination, and that lock might not work both ways. This could be my only chance.
“Hey, boss, we got him,” one of the guys announces.
Boss? Just as I feared: a turf war. I’m leaning toward the Calvaris, based on Wrath’s recent issue with them. But the Dementes would do it just to fuck with us. I’ll sort it out later because right now I have one mission: survive.
I pull back, then shove forward, ramming my body against Knife Guy, and as he pushes me away, I go with the force, hurling myself at the other. I feel resistance as he hits the wall, maybe the doorframe, hard to be sure. He calls out, releasing me, granting me a moment of freedom. I’ve only just pulled away before I feel what must be Knife Guy’s hand on my arm, and I make a guess at his height, attempting a headbutt and nailinghim in the head, which is followed by acrackand athud—his head hitting something?
Pain rockets through my head, but I hear him groan on the floor beneath me.Success!I drop down and slide my bindings around to the front. When I remove the hood, the other guy, with longer hair, is coming at me with something. Figuring it’s a knife, I dodge it and let his hand slip between my arm and side, crushing down and twisting to disarm him. A smooth move because a Wilde always trains for self-defense.
