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A long black limo stops in front of us. “Damn. When did Sterling get a limo?”
“He didn’t.”
The doors swing open and men spill out like ants leaving a disturbed bed. I don’t even know how many there are but they all have guns fixed on us.
Jamie streaks in front of Westlyn and me, shoving us both behind him. There’s a searing pain in my ankle when my heel hits the unleveled cobblestone on the sidewalk. I go down, landing hard on my side and my hip takes the brunt of my fall.
There’s a loud pop and Jamie collapses to the sidewalk in front of me.
“No!” No. No.
I crawl to him on my hands and knees. A dark, wet sphere grows beneath his black shirt and I put my hand over it to stop the bleeding. “You’re okay, Doc. You’re gonna be fine.”
I’m holding firm pressure over Jamie’s wound when arms wrap around me from behind and drag me away. The grip is forceful. Disturbing. Painful.
“No!” I kick and fight to free myself from the grasp but the man is stronger.
“Get them in the car now.”
I scream for help at the same time Westlyn does. Shit. They have her too. And we’re in deep shit because I’m pretty sure The Order is taking us.
A fabric hood is shoved over my head. Chaos and panic eclipses the rational part of my brain.
Breathing. Hard.
Heart pounding.
Can’t . . . catch . . . my . . . breath.
I try to remember Bleu’s self-defense instructions but my brain has turned to mush. I can’t see a thing. I have no idea if there’s a gun pointed at my head ready to blow my brains out or not.
I’m not my sister. I’m afraid to fight.
My arms are restrained behind my back and I’m thrusted forward about a dozen paces before I’m lifted from the ground and forced into the car. Once inside I’m shoved onto the floor.
Oh, God. They shot Jamie. I need to get with him.
“On your knees. Hands behind your back.” I do as instructed and someone binds my wrists together with what feels like plastic ties. Shit. What did Bleu teach me about busting these open?
I took the self-defense class thinking I’d never have to use the skills my sister was teaching. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. Attacks. Kidnappings. Rapes. Murder. Those things happen to other people. Not me.
But I’m Fellowship now. Almost. This is my reality.
“Wes?”
“I’m here.” Oh, God. They got both of us.
I’m trembling so hard my teeth are chattering. My heart is literally knocking against my chest wall.
“She’s not Fellowship. You gain nothing by taking her,” Westlyn says.
A man chuckles. “You don’t think the sister of Sinclair’s wife is powerful leverage? Sounds to me like Miss Breckenridge doesn’t think very highly of you, Miss MacAllister.” Shit. They know exactly who we are.
“Crawl to me, Westlyn. On all fours like the Fellowship bitch you are.”
Is she doing it? Is she crawling to whoever this man is?
“On your knees in front of me. Kneel before your master.”
I turn my head trying to hear any sound that would indicate what’s happening next. I get my confirmation when the man says, “Good lass. I think I’ll reward you for following orders by taking off your hood.”
I almost hope they don’t take off my hood. I think it might be more frightening to see what’s going on in this vehicle.
“Hmm . . . no one told me you were such a beauty.” Wouldn’t someone from The Order know exactly what every last Breckenridge looked like? Especially the daughter of Abram Breckenridge?
“Should I know you?” Westlyn’s voice is soft but steady. How can she sound so calm right now?
“I’m Kieran Hendry.”
Westlyn hesitates a moment before replying. “Are you part of The Order?”
“Aye. My mum is Arabella Grieves Hendry. Torrence was her brother.”
“Your grandfather married your mum off to a brotherhood in the north as part of a treaty.”
“Aye. A very successful treaty, which made both brotherhoods very successful. And now The Order has asked her to come home and lead because she is the next Grieves blood successor.”
“A woman is acting as the leader of The Order?”
“No. My father is acting on her behalf until I step into the role of leader.”
Holy shit. This Kieran guy is the new Order leader. Or will be. We aren’t being held by goons. Even I know that this can’t be good.
“What are you going to do with us?”
“That conversation is coming, Miss Breckenridge, but right now I’m really enjoying the sight of you on your knees in front of me.” He hesitates a moment. “I really like your pink pouty lips, but I think I’d like them more if they were wrapped around my cock.”
Oh, God no. Please don’t make her do that.
“I hope you like my teeth as well.” I hear what I assume is Westlyn gnashing her teeth to demonstrate what he’ll get if his cock comes anywhere near her mouth.
How is she so brave at a time like this? Or stupid? This man could kill us at any minute and she’s blatantly taunting him.
“Ouch, Miss Breckenridge. That could be dangerous for my dick. I guess we’ll go with the original plan instead.”
“The original plan being?”
“I take you to my house, tie you to my bed, and do whatever the fuck I want to you. Both of you.”
No. No. No.
“Ellison isn’t Fellowship.”
“You said that already.”
“She isn’t one of us and doesn’t understand any of this. She’s simply the sister of a woman who married into the brotherhood. This isn’t her fight. She doesn’t deserve to be injured or damaged.”
“Are you asking me to leave her unharmed?”
“Yes . . . please. Show her mercy.”
“What are you willing to do to keep Miss MacAllister safe?”
There’s a pause before Westlyn continues. “What do you want from me?”
“Will you take her beating? Take her rape? Plus yours?”
She can’t do that. It’s too much. “No, Wes! Don’t even think about agreeing to that.”
Something comes down against my face. Hard. “Shut. Your. Mouth. I’m negotiating with Miss Breckenridge.”
“Ellison will be unharmed if I take hers and mine?”
“Yes, but one more stipulation, Miss Breckenridge. Take yours and hers without a fight. Submit to me freely, and I won’t harm a hair on your friend’s head.”
What a fucking snake.
“Swear it on the life of your firstborn son.”
What the fuck is she saying? She can’t do this. She can’t be thinking he’ll uphold his end of the bargain. How can she consider doing this for me? She’ll be ruined. Possibly damaged beyond repair.
“Don’t do this, Westlyn.”
“Swear you’ll not harm her. Swear it on the life of your firstborn son, Kieran Hendry, and I’ll do it.”
“Miss Breckenridge of The Fellowship brotherhood, I swear to you on the life of my firstborn son that Miss MacAllister will not be harmed by me or any member of The Order. Do we have a deal?”
“Deal.”
The motion of the car soon stops and a door opens. “Take Miss MacAllister to the guest quarters. Feed her if she’s hungry. Offer her a shower and change of clothes but keep her confined there. You heard my deal with Mis
s Breckenridge. No harm is to come to her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Miss Breckenridge and I will be in my quarters. Do not disturb us under any circumstances.” What? No. He can’t. Wes . . .
“Yes, sir.”
“Wes . . . I . . . I’m so sorry.”
“It’ll be okay, Elli. Go.”
I’ve never felt so agonized . . . apart from when my parents died.
I’m the reason my beautiful friend will know twice as much pain, twice as much degradation, twice as many violations at the hands of this Order member. Their future leader. A man who equates ruthlessness with power, and will show no mercy.
This is not going to be okay. Not even a little.
And I may have lost Jamie forever too.
“What the fuck happened?” Leith drops to his knees beside me and inspects my shoulder. “You’ve been shot. Tell me what to do, mate.”
The crowd of brothers circling me on the sidewalk grows. What the fuck are they waiting on? “They took them—Ellison and Westlyn. They’re getting away. We have to go after them.”
“We will but first we have to make sure you don’t bleed to death. Tell me what to do.”
I haven’t lost consciousness so I’m not bleeding out. The bullet had to have dodged all major vessels. “I’m okay. They’re getting away. We have to go after them now but before we lose them.”
I attempt to sit up but Leith holds me down. “You’ve been shot, you stupid fucker. You have to be seen by a doctor.”
Leith’s right. I’m a doctor. I know the things that can go wrong after a gunshot wound. I’m no good to Ellison and Westlyn if I’m dead from some kind of complication. “Call Taggart. Tell him to meet us at Thane’s. He can clear me.”
“Sure you wouldn’t rather take your chances going to Royal Infirmary rather than risk Taggart fucking up because he’s on the poppy?”
It’ll take hours to be seen and released at Royal. I don’t have time for that. I’d rather take my chances with Taggart. “He’ll be fine to look at this. I suspect it’s minor since the bleeding is minimal.”
My worries lie with Ellison and Westlyn. Not what’s going on with this shoulder.
“Whatever you want.”
