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My gaze found Sean behind them. His arms were restrained painfully, and his eyes widened minutely before slipping back into a blank expression. He tracked my hands along with everyone else. Rada and Loch gazed at me with hard expressions.
A slow clap snapped my attention to a face that haunted my nightmares. Boyan, the man who pretended to love my mamá for years only to abuse her and then let his friends destroy her. I’d feared coming face-to-face with him for a decade, But now, standing holding two live grenades, a livid rage bubbled up inside me.
“You fucking pig,” I spat at him.
He grinned at me. “Such fire. Just like your mother. But that’s no way to greet your father.”
Father! Everything inside me stilled, and my arms fell.
31
The fecking plan had gone to shite, and as we waited for Boyan to arrive, I swear I could hear Pa fucking laughing from his grave. “That’s what you get for trusting people, Seany-boy.” Well, fuck off, old man.
I ground my teeth, working on my bindings as I sat on the floor of one of our older warehouses. My shoulder throbbed, and blood trickled down my chest where the stitches had burst open after Cian drove his thumb into the wound. He would die painfully. Rage simmered inside me. He was supposed to be tied up at home, but I’d missed a crucial player in the game.
Fecking Uncle Declan.
The double-crossing bastard had never been dead. I’d seen his body briefly but had not suspected Cian then. That part had been more recent, and the information Liam sent me yesterday proved the money-siphoning source. Torturing the little shite hadn’t helped because, despite pretending to be the mastermind, he knew little of the broader plan. Presumably, Uncle Declan had promised him more power in their newly snatched organisation.
Good luck with that, boys.
Declan’s 'Lazarus’ moment was the only reason they got the jump on us at the main warehouse after we visited the club's burnt-out shell. I wasn’t expecting to see him, and that momentary shock was enough. That and nine guys – ten, if you count the one Loch managed to kill.
Fuming, I kept my face a blank mask. I needed Boyan here to clear this mess up. Things hadn’t gone to plan, but I was confident my inside man would adapt to the circumstances. I needed to get Amy before she woke up.
Cian had woken up effing and jeffing about Uncle Declan drugging him along with the girls. He taunted me that Amy had been hog-tied, and I added it to my mental tally of pain I’d be dolling out to him. Torture was too good for that traitor.
Uncle Declan was strutting about like a peacock, waiting for his new best buddy, Stefanov, to arrive. He’d always been a pain in the arse, and I’d only avenged his death because he was family. In truth, I was well shot of him. Except, I fecking wasn’t shot of him at all.
“After this, I’ll be the boss, just as I should have been after Connall’s death.”
“Shite for brains,” Loch mumbled.
I laughed, a deep, reverberating laugh, and Cian darted forward, pistol-whipping me across the face. The pain exploded across my cheek, and I laughed harder, spitting blood onto the floor.
“You couldn’t head up a girl guide troop, you fecking eejit.”
Declan’s face was a contorted mask as he grabbed my chin, forcing my head up.
“I’ll start by fucking that stripper bitch in all her holes.”
“For that, I’ll skin your dick first.”
He punched me, and my head snapped to the side.
“Teenage girls hit harder than you, Declan.” I sneered at him as the room spun lightly.
Shouting from outside the room pulled my attention to the double doors. Declan stormed over and dragged them open.
“How the fuck did she get out?” he shouted into the corridor.
Who? My heart thrashed against my rib cage.
“Fuck you,” Rada screamed, followed by the unmistakable sound of spitting.
Loch stiffened at my side.
“You’ll pay for that, you fucking whore.” A slap rang out into the room.
