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The next four hours passed slower than a snail’s pace, but Jaxon finally turned onto a dirt trail that was barely noticeable if you weren’t looking for it.
My pulse spiked. I was so looking forward to my day.
Once Jaxon parked in front of an old, beat-to-hell warehouse out in the fucking boonies, we climbed out of the car. I stretched my neck and popped my knuckles in preparation for the good times ahead.
“You know it’s wrong to look that happy, man.” Jaxon grinned and patted me on the back.
“Thanks for your help.” I tipped my chin before I walked away and left him near the vehicle.
The white peeling paint on the door reminded me of how weathered the structure was. An old padlock hung from the bent latch. I gave the lock a little jiggle, and it popped open. The door creaked loudly as I pushed through, and I searched around the musty space. My shoes smacked the dirty, stained concrete floor as I followed the path to the opposite side of the building, heart hammering against my ribs. Jaxon was right. It was wrong to be this excited, but I fucking was, and I planned to enjoy every single minute.
Opening another door, I rubbed my hands together, spotting my boys.
“Morning,” Pierce said, leaning against the wall with his ankles crossed in front of him. He wore an old pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. We sure as hell didn’t need to dress well for our workday. Not this time.
“Morning.” I walked over to him, then glanced in the cages in the corner.
“Pretty exciting shit, huh?” Vaughn rubbed his chin and chuckled from the other side of the space. He tugged on the hem of his faded navy shirt and tapped his booted toe against the floor.
“I’m so fucking ready.” I danced around, throwing a punch in the air.
“Let’s do it.” Pierce pushed off the wall, his dark gaze full of fury.
I waited as Vaughn and Pierce opened two cages and pulled out a couple of blindfolded men. Their hands were tied behind their backs, and their faces were caked with dried blood.
“Sitting or hanging?” Pierce asked.
I rubbed my chin, pretending I hadn’t imagined this a million times in the last few weeks. “Let’s get warmed up with sitting first.”
Vaughn’s mismatched eyes sparkled as he forced one of the guys to sit down.
He secured his hands as Pierce did the same to the other man. I grabbed a chair, the legs scraping the floor as I placed it in front of the two men. I flipped it around, then straddled the seat. Vaughn removed their blindfolds before he and Pierce stepped to the side and folded their arms over their chests, waiting for my orders.
Donovan and Ander rapidly blinked as they tried to adjust to the dimly lit warehouse.
“Hello, Donovan.” A malicious grin eased across my face. “Ander? Nice to finally meet you. Well, you won’t think so by the time I’m finished with you.” I chuckled and cracked my knuckles. Ander was thinner than I’d expected, and his beady blue-grey eyes and mousy brown hair weren’t how I’d pictured him.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Donovan spat.
My brow quirked. “Well, you piece of shit, you fucking shot me for starters, but we both know what this is all about.” I slapped my hand on the back of the chair, making Ander jump. I could see who pulled the strings here—Donovan. Which meant I would deal with Ander first and make Donovan watch. The bastard would be squirming with fear when I was done.
“Where’s Giselle? I want her returned to me right now!” Fire burned in Donovan’s gaze.
“Dude, you’re clearly not understanding what is about to go down.” I spread my arms out as if I was about to present the greatest show in the world. And I was. I so fucking was.
I stood, strolled over to the men, and shoved my hands in my pockets, staring at them. “Let’s make something clear. Giselle ismine. No one—and I meanno one—fucking touches her ever again. You should be begging for your sorry ass life, not making demands. Not that begging will help you any, but it would be a hell of a lot of fun hearing you.”
Ander nodded, and a little whine escaped him. Disgust percolated in my gut. Apparently, he could hurt others but was a real pussy when it involved himself in pain.
“She’ll never belong to you. You’re a stupid bodyguard that can’t offer her anything,” Donovan seethed.
I wagged my finger at him. “That’s where you’re wrong. My financial advisor just gave me an update on how my millions of dollars have been working for me.” I gave a nonchalant shrug. “Money isn’t a problem. What I do worry about, though,” I shook my head, “is what Giselle thought of me when I told her I killed pathetic pieces of shit like you for a fucking hobby.” I placed my foot on the edge of Donovan’s chair and kicked him backward.
He howled as he hit the floor, banging the side of his skull. I glanced at Pierce, who was calm and collected as if we did this every day. We didn’t, but on occasion, we had to.
I paced in front of Ander with my hands behind my back. “So, Ander, Giselle informed me that you raped her repeatedly, and sold her to some sick fucks that destroyed her knee, which ended her career. What kind of husband treats their wife like that?”
“I’m sorry, man. I just did what Donovan told me to,” he stuttered.
