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Sal clenched his jaw. “She went out the back door? You mean to tell me you didn’t have men stationed at every entrance and exit, like I fucking ordered?” He saw Luis swallow before shaking his head. “So the MC could get to her, probably had already. Do you realize if they take her out how badly that will reflect on us? Do you realize it’ll make us look weak?”
“It was a mistake, boss—”
Sal lifted one of the crutches and brought it along the upside of Luis’s head. The sound of his skull cracking rang through the room, and Luis fell to the ground. Blood started dripping down the side of his head, and the groans coming from Luis annoyed Sal.
“Miguel, get him the fuck out of my sight, and send out the boys to find Angelina.”
“Yes, boss.”
Miguel picked up Luis with the help of Carlos, and they hauled the motherfucker out of his sight.
Sal went back to his seat and sat down, stared out the window, and knew he had to find Angelina. If that fucking MC had anything to do with her disappearing, word would spread that the Cardonas couldn’t even handle their own, couldn’t even stop some MC from bringing down Sal Cardona’s offspring.
He grabbed his cell and dialed Nando’s number. If his fucking men let his daughter disappear and now couldn’t find her, he needed to go to the next level.
“Yeah?” Nando’s deeply Italian accented voice came through the receiver.
“I need Angelina found, and want to bring down some motherfuckers. You up to getting your hands dirty?”
“Always. And when I find your daughter, what do you want me to do with the fuckers that took her?”
Sal didn’t need to think about it. “Take them out and make it slow and painful.” He had never been close with Angelina, and to be honest, she’d been more of a liability for his enemies to get at him.
He would have protected her if she hadn’t betrayed them by leaving, but now that she was gone, and if she was with the MC, getting her back was more about teaching her a lesson, and letting word get out that even blood got what was coming to them.
This was also about the Bleeding Mayhem MC, and he’d go to any lengths to bring down that fucking club. They came after the Cardonas and took out his son. That meant this was fucking war.
13
Fury had left Angelina in the room hours ago, and since then was slowly finishing off a bottle of scotch. The TV was on but muted, and some old school horror movie played on the screen.
He didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do, if he were being honest. He had initially planned on taking Sal’s daughter, and doing all kinds of fucked-up shit to her to get some revenge on the Cardonas.
All he’d been able to see after Birdie was shot and the club was put in jeopardy was getting even with fucking Sal. Sure, it had also been about getting information out of Angelina that could help Fury get her father, find out where the prick was hiding, and taking out the old bastard.
But here he was, not even two days after taking her, and he was thinking of letting her go.
She didn’t know anything. He could see that in her face, in the way she spoke. He went with his gut, and his instincts were telling him she was innocent in all of this. Doing anything to her but letting her go seemed so fucking wrong, and unlike him.
But despite knowing that, wanting to be able to let her go and find Sal on his own, he also knew he could use her as leverage. It was fucked up, but his club and family came first, even if that meant being a lowdown, dirty bastard and using an innocent woman.
He stood, but the room started to spin because of how drunk he was already, and he braced his hand on the arm of the couch.
“Fuck,” he said and ran a hand over his face, feeling his days’ worth of stubble cover his cheeks and jaw. He turned and stared down the hallway, looked at the closed door of the bedroom where Angelina was currently chained up, and felt his cock harden and his heart start to race. He was a sick motherfucker for his body’s reaction to her, given the situation they were in.
But all he could picture was her sitting on the bed, the oversized T-shirt hanging off one of her shoulders, her olive skin tone and the sight of her delicate collarbones, making the male part of him rise up like a violent fucking beast.
It also didn’t help the sight of the chain around her ankle, of her submission—involuntary or not—made him fucking harder than rock.
He adjusted his cock behind the fly of his jeans and cleared his throat. He needed to go sleep this drunkenness off, and tomorrow he’d decide the next move on how to find out where Sal was.
Despite the fact Marco was dead and Sal had ducked out after all that shit had gone down, Fury wasn’t going to stop until he had confirmation that motherfucker was either dead or find out where he was hiding.
Fury wasn’t going to let this go until he had Cardona blood on his hands.
14
She was exhausted, but Angelina couldn’t sleep. She’d been lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling, for the last several hours.
