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Dex inhales a deep breath and blows it out. “I couldn’t do anything for her, but this girl doesn’t have to pay the price for our actions.”
Leo moves closer. “You got a death wish we don’t know about, Dex?”
Casting his eyes down at the floor, he blinks slowly. “Not anymore. But Danny was club business, and we dealt with him. This girl Bert has isn’t the club.”
“He’s going to have plans for you, thinking you killed his son.”
Dex takes another deep breath and responds with, “Then we best make a plan of our own to stop that from happening.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Call the prick and set up an exchange.”
Cas stalls, staring down at the phone, then places the call. Bert answers on the first ring.
“We’re prepared to hand over the brother who killed Danny for the girl.”
Cas’s jaw is set tight. It literally pains him to follow through with this unhatched plan. When Bert laughs down the line, I would swear he chips a tooth.
“I knew you’d see sense. Like I told you, I’m only here for my son’s killer. There’s an old abandoned factory out by Bush Creek. Be there in an hour.”
The line goes dead, and Cas has to force himself not to throw his phone across the room. Bracing his hands on his hips, he casts his eyes around at the brothers.
“Let’s make a fucking plan.”
Chapter Ten
Holly
Something’s different. I can sense it, even before I manage to open my eyes. The first thing I notice is I’m not in the bathroom anymore. I’m now in the room, lying on the bed. My feet and wrists are still tied together, and—oh my God! Why do my hands feel like they’re burning? Once I feel it, I can’t not feel it, and it only intensifies. Are they on fire? I try twisting to see what’s going on, but the more I move, the more it hurts. I feel sick.
“What do you see in Tal?”
Jumping, I roll over to find the old guy sitting on a chair at the end of the bed. He’s been watching me sleep, as if my life couldn’t get anymore creepier.
I manage to stammer out, “I—I don’t really know him.”
“I’m sure you’re well acquainted with his dick, though, am I right?”
When his gaze begins to roam up my body, I try to move as far away from him as I can, which isn’t far.
“You don’t even know his real name, do you?”
The throbbing in my hands is consuming my every thought. I try to get a look at them and sob when I can’t see the cause. The old guy only laughs and stands from his chair, only to sit down next to me.
“It’s Ethan, and you can ask him about your hands.”
Grabbing my arm, a wave of dizziness hits me as he drags me to the edge of the bed where someone I didn’t notice before stands at the end.
This guy’s younger—much younger—but no less scary looking. Pulling out a knife, he slices it through the tie around my ankles, then digs his knee into the mattress as he leans over me and frees my hands.
Thank God, I can finally see what’s wrong. Shaking the numbness from my arms, I’m not prepared for what I find.
I struggle to breathe at the mess I’m seeing. What am I looking at?
At first, I think I have pizza stuck to my palms and fingers, but with the smell and throbbing pain, I know that’s wrong. My fucking hands have been burnt to a crisp!
My heavy breathing becomes a full-out scream until I’m slapped across the face, the force of it sending me backward and off the bed. Getting over the shock, I go to raise up, placing my palms on the floor, when an agonizing pain shoots from my hands to my shoulders, causing me to cry out.
