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With my eyes covered, I stretch my other senses out, reaching for anything I can find. The sound of feet shuffling and men’s voices speaking in sharp tones to each other. Their voices echo in the room; mixed with their distance, it makes their words hard to make out.
Metal on metal screeches from my right, finishing off with a blunt bang, and the cool breeze that’s been raising the hairs on my arms is cut off.
Echoes, large doors, concrete floors. My guess is they’re keeping me in some kind of warehouse.
There’s a muffled sound from the far end, and I turn my head slightly to hear it. That’s when I feel it. The cool steel encircling my neck.
I gasp, my eyes burning as the realization crashes into me. They didn’t tie my hands and feet because they’ve leashed me here like a dog.
“Look who’s awake.” Anthony’s mouth is twisted in a mockery of a smile as he removes the fabric from my eyes. “Welcome back.”
The throbbing pain in my wrist is replaced by pure terror as he stands, legs straddling mine, and leans down. My stomach turns, and acid climbs up my throat as he brushes his fingers against my cheek, pushing my hair back.
“You look pretty rough.” He kneels over me, grabbing a bottle of water from the ground beside us. “Can’t have you die just yet.”
The plastic rim presses into my lips, and he grips my jaw until I open my mouth.
“Good. Need to keep you nice and fresh, at least until that little husband of yours gets here.”
I spit the water into his face the second the bottle’s removed. The sharp slap against my cheek rings in my skull. “Fucking bitch. Look what you made me do.” He pries my clenched teeth open and pours the liquid into my mouth, not stopping when it overflows my lips and my throat starts to gurgle.
I lurch to the side, coughing up water the second he releases me. My eyes burn with tears as I struggle to breathe.
He’ll find me. He’ll always find me.
I repeat it over and over. Knowing he’ll come is the only thing that keeps me from falling apart.
“That’s fucking disgusting.” Anthony stands to get away from my mess. “I’ll give you something to choke on. Thomas said it’s the one thing you were good at.” His fingers go to his belt, and panic compresses my chest.
“You’re doing all of this for Thomas?” I rush the words out, anything to stall for time.
Anthony laughs. “Fuck no. That Unsainted little bitch did have his use though. We’ve been searching for Damon’s weakness for years. A way to lure him out of his protection.” He grips my hair, tilting my head back. I clench my teeth together hard enough to crack. “You see, the Saints won’t follow me until he’s dead, but once I drag his carcass into the Vaults, they’ll see. They’ll see who the real Lord is.”
“He’ll fucking kill you,” I hiss.
He tilts his head and looks entirely too pleased. “That’s why you’re here. Bait. I’ve been watching him, and when it comes to you, he has no control. The best part is all I have to do is wait, and he’ll wrap himself into my trap for me.”
He unzips his pants. “Now, be the little slut you are and?—”
“Boss.” A man in tactical gear approaches from behind. He’s got some kind of rifle draped over his shoulder, two guns at his hips, and what looks like freaking grenades around his belt. “Everyone is in position.”
“Remind the men they’re not to kill Damon. He’s mine,” Anthony commands.
My fear morphs, changes as I take in the scene. They know Damon will come for me. They’re planning on it. My heart aches, and I bite back the sobs at being the reason they catch him. For the first time tonight, I beg the universe for him not to find me.
The woman from earlier walks in, eyeing Anthony’s and my positions. “Job’s done.”
Anthony gives her a warm smile, and she’s an idiot if she can’t see it for the manipulation that it is. “He followed you?”
The woman wraps her arms around his chest and grins. “He’s here.”
Chapter 54
Damon
My eyes never leave the black Chevy Impala with tinted windows and a dented back bumper as I trail it through the maze of warehouses in the industrial district. The moon casts an eerie glow over the rows of massive cranes that loom over the ocean, ready to unload hundreds of containers stacked six high on each ship.
The leather stitching on my steering wheel frays under my grip as I force myself to keep distance between us. The cover of night, compounded with my lights turned off, helps keep me out of sight. I’m just hoping whoever’s driving is a regular fucking person because anyone trained would have already spotted me.
