Page 45 of King of Temptation

She was only a few feet from the front steps when a sharp, unfamiliar scent filled her nose. Reaching up, she clawed at the hand holding the cloth to her face, panic rising up to choke her as the world faded to black.

Chapter 16

Brody

“This would be so much easier if you’d just work with us, Brody.”

God, he wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug fucking smile off Detective Gibson’s face. The man had been gunning for them for years now, with a tenacity most of his peers lacked. He was the kind of cop law-abiding citizens loved: Hardworking, clean as a whistle, truly dedicated to the cause of justice.

For Brody and his family, Detective Gibson was just a pain in the fucking ass.

But since he had no desire to spend any more time staring at the drab gray walls of the Charleston Police Department than necessary, he swallowed down his rage and offered up a polite, if somewhat bored smile. “You know the O’Rourkes are always happy to help where we can, Detective. But I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Gibson’s smirk somehow managed to turn even more smug. Shifting forward in his seat, he flipped open a manila folder and carefully laid out one, two, three separate still photos on the table.

Heart slamming against his ribcage, Brody glanced down at the photographs, careful to keep his expression neutral. In one, he was walking Goldie to her car, his hand wrapped around her upper arm. In another, she was running from him, her eyes wild with what appeared to be true terror.

And in the third, she was flung over his shoulder as he hauled her back to her car.

Fucking security cameras.

Shrugging a shoulder as if Gibson hadn’t just laid out some very compelling evidence against him right on the table, Brody leaned back in his chair. “What exactly do you think you have here, Detective?”

“Photographic proof of you abducting the daughter of a decorated police officer.”

Brody snorted. “If you really think this will stand up in court, then get the DA in here. How is Gabby these days, anyway?”

Across the table, Gibson scowled. It was only for a moment before he carefully schooled his expression back into smooth, unperturbed lines, but it was enough for Brody to know he’d hit a nerve. If he had to guess, they didn’t have half the case they wanted him to think they did, and Gabriella Sanchez had told them exactly that—with a few choice expletives thrown in—when they’d attempted to drag her out of her nice cozy bed in the middle of the night.

But before Gibson could say anything else, a commotion in the hall distracted both of them a moment before the door flew open. Eyes wild, his color too high, Sergeant Quinn stormed past the officers calling his name straight to the table where Brody sat.

Gripping Brody’s lapels, the Sergeant dragged him to his feet. “Where the fuck is she?”

Alarm bells rang in Brody’s mind. “Who?”

But he knew. He’d known the moment Quinn had come barging in.

Goldie.

“Don’t play dumb with me, you sick sonofabitch. My daughter!”

Terror, a kind he’d never truly known, raked icy fingers down Brody’s spine. “Sergeant, the last I heard your daughter was safely tucked away at home under your watch.”

He didn’t see the punch coming, which was a testament to how rattled he truly was. Stumbling backward, Brody lifted a hand to dab at the blood dripping from his mouth. The only thing keeping him from retaliating in kind was the knowledge that he couldn’t find Goldie if he was locked in a jail cell.

Glancing over at Gibson, who was watching them with the fury of a man who knew he was watching his chance at what he called justice slip through his fingers, Brody held up his bloody hand. “I’ll be leaving now, Detective. And unless you want me to have every one of your fucking badges by the time the sun comes up, I suggest you don’t try to stop me.”

Sergeant Quinn, who was now being held up against a wall by no less than four officers, snarled at him as he made to pass. “Stay the fuck away from my daughter, O’Rourke!”

Brody paused long enough to meet the other man’s eyes, the same whiskey color as his daughter’s. And because he did, he saw the raw terror beneath the fury, and he allowed himself a single moment of sorrow for a father in fear for his daughter’s life.

“Sergeant, right now, I may be the only person capable of getting your daughter out of whatever mess she’s in alive. If you actually love her, I suggest you stay the fuck out of my way.”

With that parting shot, he strode out into the hall and threw open the first door he came to. Killian was there, his eyebrows raising in silent question as he stared at Brody.

“We’re leaving. All of us. Now.”

Grabbing his jacket, Killian rose to his feet and followed Brody back into the hall as he stormed to the next door, ignoring the protests of the officers who had come to investigate the commotion.