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The soundof metal against metal makes me gasp awake, swallowing a scream. Blinking the last of the unconsciousness away, I realize my arms and legs are tied tightly to a metal chair.
I’m a big guy, and could easily break a wooden chair with my size if I fell over in it. Metal? Fuck me that’s not happening.
There’s a bright light over my head illuminating me, but the rest of the room is a sea of inky darkness.Where the hell am I?
Looking around, I try to figure it out but it’s impossible.
“Look, he’s awake,” sneers a man. He has an Irish accent, which makes my blood run cold. It appears like we didn’t leave the Irish Mafia in Chicago after all. Walking into the light, he’s wearing a black mask over his face, and his black shirt is rolled up to show off his muscular arms.
His hand clenches around a metal bat, and I can see a grotesque tattoo of an eye socket and smile on the back of his hand.
Swallowing hard, I wait. No use blathering on right now when I need to focus on whether or not they have Layla as well. I’m silently cataloging every hint about who they may be or why they took me.
I just need a slight edge to get away.
One mistake. Give it to me.
“Tell me what’s so special about the girl? Our boss has been too interested in her and it doesn’t sit right,” he says, running theend of the bat roughly into my stomach. It hurts, but I braced myself for it, so it doesn’t wind me as badly as it could have.
Try better, asshole.
“There’s nothing special about her,” I lie. “Just a pretty songbird.”
“A girl with tits like that,” another masked man says, stepping into the light. He squeezes his erection, making me snarl in disgust. “I bet her cunt is fucking tight…”
“I wouldn’t know. Leave her alone!” I yell, earning myself another hard poke with the bat. “Jesus fuck, can’t you learn another trick? That one is getting old.”
Poke, poke, poke the bear. I can be really damn annoying as the youngest of my family.
“You’re a musician, so you need your hands, right? What if I fooking break them, dick?” the first man snarls. Apparently he doesn’t think I’m as adorable as I think I am. That’s too bad. “I need to know who is important to her, and I need it now.”
Rolling in my lips, I look up defiantly at him even as a sliver of cold ice runs through my veins. Yes I damn well need my hands to play the guitar, but I want to protect Layla and Atlas.
Shrugging, I earn myself a rough boxing of my ears. Fuck, it looks like they learned how to beat people up at their mother’s knees. I can’t tell if these two numbskulls are siblings, but maybe?
“Fucker isn’t going to talk,” a third masked man says, rubbing his lips with his thumb. I can see a hint of a tattoo peeking out from under his long-sleeves. I find it a little dumb that they’re showing off such identifying features but commit each one to memory as Numbskulls One, Two, and Three.
“Talk about what?” I ask smugly. Fuck, this might hurt, but I deserve it all. Even if she never finds out about it, I can show how much I care about Layla by not giving these assholes a damn thing.
Numbskull number one rolls his eyes and the third comes around and unties one of my hands. If it was normal rope I’d already be out of it, but they secured me way too well. Someone is very well versed in kidnapping.
Slamming my hand on the table, Numbskull number three asks, “Are you sleeping with the little bitch?”
“No,” I tell him honestly, trying to ignore how Numbskull number one is looking lovingly at his bat. He’d get along really well with another asshole I know.
“You looked like you were in your own little world earlier. It was way too easy to get the drop on you,” Numbskull number one chuckles. So he has the dark hair, thanks for that information. I’m tucking it all away until I can escape.
"It’s not a crime to bring a girl some ice, nor is it a proposal,” I snort. Numbskull number one smiles cruelly and I realize I’m showing my hand a bit. I clearly care in some way.
“Why bother being nice to someone who you’re not fooking?” Numbskull number two snorts.
The first man grins, lifting his bat. “Answer the question,” he says, slamming the fucking bat inches from my hand. I can’t help it, I scream, shuddering. My hands are my entire damn life.
Fuck.
My chest heaves as I glare at the asshole. “Go fuck yourself, dick.”
“Why can’t people do things the easy way? Do you care about the girl?”
