“Here they come.” Viper nodded toward the patio stone stairs. Two guards came down talking. Their words were unintelligible. One smoked a cigarette.
The men stopped near the window and faced each other. “Vinny’ll be here soon. We’re supposed to head to the dock in fifteen to welcome him.”
“Fuck that guy’s a prick.”
“Not our problem. He’ll take the bitch and be gone.”
Atlas’s hackles rose. Hot breath expelled from his nostrils.
“She got you good, huh, Chris? Are your balls as blue as that bruise?”
“Fuck you. I beat the shit outta her and dragged her back to the room. Ain’t so pretty now.”
Atlas pushed to a standing position, but Viper’s fierce hand brought him back to the grass. “Save it.”
He huffed. “That bastard’s mine. You can take the other with a clean shot if you want.”
“Fine, just wait for Rogue’s go.”
The guards continued walking, pivoting to stroll beneath the balcony.
Atlas dipped his head. “Rogue, I need clearance. Now.”
“Go.” His friend’s short response told him it might not be the best time to move in. He didn’t give a damn.
He moved around the rock. Balancing his weight on the balls of his feet, he fought to keep every step as soundless as possible. The two goons chatted, muffling any sounds his approach made.
He crept up behind Chris and swooped an arm around his neck. Chris kicked and flung, but Atlas held fast. His friend wheeled around and fumbled to yank his weapon from its holster.
Havoc was on him. In two seconds, his silencer was pressed to the man’s forehead. Then the guy’s brains sprayed on the wall.
Atlas pulled sharply on Chris’s neck, letting him wither and gasp for air. The stench of smoke was heavy on his skin. “Tell me again what you did to my girl? I didn’t quite hear you the first time.”
Chris let out a guttural sound. “Sh-She’s fine.” The proclamation came out on a whisper.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
He clenched his forearm tighter. Tendons popped and crackled beneath his skin, bringing a whole new meaning to the word satisfaction.
“Upstairs,” he croaked. He pointed above his head.
Atlas’s gaze shifted to the balcony they stood below. Hope blossomed in his chest. Just knowing Molly was so close gave him a tingling sense of peace—and wrath.
He’d come for Molly.
But he wouldn’t leave without the kill.
He snapped Chris’s neck to one side while jerking his arm in the opposite direction. A satisfying crunch let him exhale.
It was all he could do not to call out to Molly.
Molly frowned. She’d heard a sound outside. A splatter of some kind. Like a wet rag slapping against the stone house.
She lay in the same spot. Restless yet immobile. Exhausted yet wired. Scared and not the least bit hopeful.
A voice carried on the breeze and drifted through the sheer curtains. Probably just Willy’s men circling the property.
She couldn’t stop shivering. Sleep wouldn’t come, but morning would.
