Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Rage consumed me, and I could barely see the steps as I tried to barrel up them. They were talking about my wife. I was yanked back before I could ascend even one stair.
“They’ll get what’s comin’ to them, Brandon,” Aiden hissed. “But you’re no good to Carly if you go rushin’ in thoughtlessly an’ get yourself killed.”
He was right. I hated that he was right. But it was why I’d brought him with me in the first place. We needed to find out where they were keeping the girls.
“Oke,” Josué said, his tone somewhat gleeful. “If you’re right, maybe she’ll be enough to entertain me for a while.”
Dead man. Dead man. Dead man.
“Just make sure she disappears when yer done with her,” Sean snapped. “Now, send someone to load up the shipment, I need to get the feck out o’ here.”
It was exactly what we needed. I motioned for one of the men with us to turn around and go back. He’d heard the discussion and knew what I wanted. A few of them would follow their guy to what was most likely a local brothel and clear it out.
Before I broke eye contact, I gave him one more order, my voice deadly. “Burn it the fuck down.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
CARLY
“No fecking way!”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere, had heard it for most of my life. I still kept my eyes closed for a moment, terrified I might be imagining my childhood friend was here to rescue me, just like I’d expected Brandon to be standing in front of me when I’d opened my eyes after dreaming of him. Pushing down my terror, I lifted my head, opened my eyes, and found Tommy standing in front of me with three of my men behind him.
“Out!” he roared. The guys tore their gazes away from me and hurried from the room.
“It isn’t as bad as it looks,” I chided. “It’s not like I’m naked.”
It was pretty damn close, but I was partially covered. The barely-there slip I’d worn underneath my wedding gown left little to the imagination.
“Fecking hell, ya might as well be.”
“I guess Sean figured since he wasn’t going to marry me, then I didn’t need to keep my wedding dress on.”
“I’m gonna tear the bloody eejit’s bollocks off.”
His thick brogue was a sure clue to how pissed off he was. “Careful, your Irish is showing.”
“Jaysus, Carly. You’re the only woman I know who’d make a joke at a time like this.” He rubbed his face in exasperation and hissed in pain when his fingers brushed his bandaged and bruised nose, clearly having forgotten about the injury.
“You want to tell me how that happened?”
“I shouldna’ left you alone.”
Yeah, I knew exactly who had broken his nose. Considering I’d been taken while he was supposed to be watching over me, I guessed I should be relieved that’s all Brandon had done to him. “How about we call it even if you untie me and find me something to wear?”
“Shit, sorry,” he murmured, rushing forward to work on the rope wrapped around my hands.
Once I was free, I wriggled my fingers and toes to get the blood flowing in them again while Tommy searched the room. The room was sparsely furnished, with only a queen size bed and a small set of drawers the only furniture. Considering what Sean had told me it was used for, I wasn’t surprised.
“There isn’t a fecking thing in here.”
“Sex slaves don’t exactly have belongings,” I explained quietly. “And if they did, a man would have to be an imbecile to keep her stuff around after he’s killed her.”
“Fecking hell,” he growled, lifting his black, long-sleeved shirt over his head and tossing it to me. “Put this on so I can get you the feck out of here before your husband decides my broken nose isn’t punishment enough for landing you here.”
I slipped the shirt on and walked to the door, but stopped to look at him over my shoulder before I left the room. “There will be no ‘getting me the fuck out of here.’ You’ll take me to Brandon.”
“He gave me orders, Carly.”
I straightened my spine and injected all my determination into my tone. “He may be my husband, but he’s not the boss of me. Not when it comes to O’Reilly business. Don’t make me tell you again, Tommy. You’ll be taking me to him. Now.”
“Fine,” he muttered. “But you’d better be bringin’ me all my favorite foods when ya visit me in the hospital.”
“Oh, shit,” one of the guys murmured, stepping out of my way as I stormed past them towards the big house. Getting out of my path was a good idea, because I’d never been more furious in my life. I was out for blood, and I was damn well going to be the one who drew it.