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This is what all those women and young girls must have felt like. Helpless and worse. Hopeless.
Seeds of fury left over from my childhood grow inside me. But instead of lashing out I fall to the floor of my cage and wait.
It’s not long until the sneering man is back. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Get up!”
Outside the natural rolling and movement of the van, I don’t move.
“I said get the fuck up. You can’t die now. Not when your death is going to be splashed all over the news. An eye for an eye, bitch!” We’re racing down the street, zooming around corners and dodging other drivers. My assailant kicks the side of the cage. Familiar sounds of a man taking a bullet to the head in a cold basement fill the van, but I remain unmoving.
Click. Grind.
“I said get the fuck up. We have plans for you. Your death for our brother’s. You hear me?”
My heart lodges into my chest because the sound of the door opening signals my only shot at getting out of this cage.
And I fucking make it count. A cold hand tightens around my calf. I spring for the door, grab the sides of his jacket, and throw myself backward. He turns just in time to catch the side of the cage against the temple. Had he not turned, my plan might not have worked.
Fucker. I release the dirtbag and let his slumping body fall to the floor of the van. There’s barely enough room, but I manage to crawl out over the top of him.
I pause. Damn. There is another cage toward the back with a black tarp draped over the top. Trembling from the jacked-up amount of adrenaline pouring into my bloodstream, I reach out and peel back the edge.
It’s empty.
“Thank God,” I murmur.
The driver is too focused on the street to pay too much attention to the commotion going on behind him. I can’t tell if there is anyone following us. But my gut says my men will find me. I have to trust that. But like my new friend, Dragon said. I have to rely on myself.
Black eyes latch on me through the rearview mirror and I find out the answer to a question I didn’t know I needed an answer to.
Can I hurt another human being?
Okay, so this might be the worst fucking plan on the planet, but it’s all I have on hand. I can either go balls to the wall and rescue myself or find out the hard way where they are taking their kidnapped victims.
For the moment, my guilt clears and I can see the path stretched out in front of me.
The third Finely brother reaches for a gun on the passenger seat, murder in his eyes. The van lurches left, and I counter by going right. I grab the lash of his seatbelt and wrap it around his throat and pull. Hard.
The van swerves into oncoming traffic. I brace behind the driver’s seat and wait for impact.
CHAPTER 10
RYTH
When we busted out of the building, the young girl in our arms, I immediately knew something was wrong. The hairs on my neck stood on end and the pinpricks needling across my shoulders had my head jerking up and my eyes zeroing in on the opposite side of the street.
Wolfe has no business here. Seeing him with his sister shot my blood pressure to dangerous levels, but watching our woman be abducted in our territory made murder come to mind.
We can’t lose her. We just fucking got our first taste of happiness.
Alaric and I are across the street throwing the doors to the SUV open before Wolfe and Marco have to shout for us to get in.
Cops, firemen, and civilians all jump out of our way as we speed after the black van.
“You lose her, you lose your life. You got that?” I pull my weapons and check the rounds. I know it’s irrational to think this is Wolfe’s fault, but someone has to take the brunt of my anger and it might as well be him. Until I get my hands around the throat of the fucker driving that van. Then he can take all my wrath.
Wolfe signals to the glove box. “I know. I know. There’re more mags in there, boss. Load up. These fuckers don’t go down easy.”
The two remaining Finely brothers.
