Page 131 of Kneeling to Candy

She shakes her head at me, her lips a thin line of disappointment. “You know I’m no good at taking orders, biker boy. I won’t stand by and watch him take her. I won’t be complicit. Never again.”

“It’s not complicit to wait for backup. It’s being smart.” I shake her, not roughly, but enough to wake her from heroic delusion. “This is war!”

But my woman doesn’t understand the rules of combat. She hasn’t learned all the safety precautions our crew has in place to keep us safe while in action. There was only time to train her on basic self-defense before this mission, not everything else. Candy isn’t aware her concern for the hostage can put herself in a vulnerable position against our enemy.

Looking at Candy’s defiant face, I can see my words aren’t registering. She’s associating herself in the victim’s position, understanding what’s in store for Jolie if O’Conall escapes.

Shots fire into the suite from the broken window, making everyone duck. Candy uses the distraction to open the suite door and scurry out. I chase after her, only to have a guard rush into my side, plowing me into the wall. There’s a sickening crack when my shoulder connects with the drywall.

Pain radiating through me, I howl a curse before I manage to press the barrel of my Glock into the gut of the guard attacking me. I pull the trigger, and the fucker drops like dead weight, grabbing at his insides spilling out. He’ll bleed out before anyone comes to his aid.

Moving in the direction Candy went, I make it a few steps before my vision clouds. The throb in my shoulder is fucking with my concentration. Forcing myself to focus, I see Candy sprinting down the hall to the back stairway.

“Candy!” I holler, running after her, doing my best to ignore the ache in my dislocated shoulder. She slips down the stairs before I can reach her.

Fear and adrenaline flood my veins. If O’Conall gets to her before I do…

No, I can’t afford to dwell on the what ifs, not with my woman in danger.

Using my anger to fuel me, I grip the banister of the staircase with my bad arm, yanking back with all my might. I grit my teeth as I set my shoulder back in place with an audible snap.

With Candy out of my sight, I use the tracking app on my phone and ping her location before I race down the stairs after her.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

CÚ SIDHE

For an improvised plan, this gig works out better than I could’ve hoped for. And thank fuck I had the foresight to sense things were off with the auction. Had I not, there wouldn’t be a chopper waiting on the other side of the mountain and no other way to escape the mercenaries storming into the house.

Picking the human bait was easy enough. The most innocent one of the group would do the trick, playing right into Leslie’s protective emotions—save her virtue and all that moral horseshite.

It nearly cost me a bullet retrieving the virgin from the pen in the middle of a war zone. Yet when I turned to see if Leslie was watching, it was worth the risk to see her devastatingly beautiful face. The panic etched into Leslie’s regal features was all the confirmation I needed.

She’ll follow. Her bleeding heart for the sorry woman in my grip will bring Candy right into my waiting arms.

Anticipation for our long awaited reunion runs through my veins like a live wire. I can practically taste Leslie’s fear floating through the air of the bullet-riddled estate. It’s fucking euphoric.

The naughty girl should fear me after the stunt she pulled—hiding away from me for years, only to pop back up tonight, flaunting a male sub in my face. Her bodyguard will follow her when she comes for me and I cannot wait. The fool deserves a bullet in the head for laying hands on me and worming his way into Leslie’s bed. Killing him in front of her will be a nice lesson for her indeed. I’m not to be toyed with. It’s best to lay those ground rules moving forward in our new life together.

Ours. Hers and mine.

A maniacal laugh bubbles low in my chest as I make my way to my rendezvous point of choice—a location near the back exit leading to our escape route. Leslie is a smart woman. She’ll find her way to where I’ll await her.

The virgin yanks against my hold—a fruitless endeavor in her drugged state. Her resistance is only a minor annoyance.

“Please! Please, let me go. Help! HELP!”

“Shush now,” I snap at the woman I drag behind me.

Still, she resists, tugging against my ironclad grip on her wrist. I would backhand her if the situation was less tense, give her a quick lesson in accepting her fate in this world. She is nothing. Her only value is in her beauty and the slit between her legs—that and being my pawn in the game of chase.

My remaining two guards seem anxious, trying to hustle us along the corridor. There’s no reason to rush. Leslie needs to catch up. When she does, the exchange can be made, and then we make haste for the mineshaft.

“Do not harm the pink-haired woman, or I will make this current gun show look like a cap gun fight,” I warn my guards. “She’ll be along soon enough.”

“Yes, Cú Sidhe,” they say in unison.

“A man will follow behind her. Shoot him dead.”

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