Page 132 of Kneeling to Candy

“Yes, sir.”

We’re near the back hallway to take us to the exit leading out to the mountain face when Duffy comes skidding in front of us. Unable to stop his momentum, he hits the wall with a muted thud, cursing as he shakes out his rammed arm.

“Finn!” He pants with relief and exertion as he scrambles toward me. “Fuck. We need to get out of here. I don’t know who these dudes are, but they’re shooting first and taking questions second. What’s the plan?”

“The plan?” I mock his absurd delusion I’d save his sorry ass when I’m convinced it’s his fuck ups that brought these mercenaries to our doorstep.

“What makes you think you’re included in any plan of mine? This is every man for himself, mate. And you’re in the way of my salvation.”

My former partner blinks his beady eyes at me, like he’s unable to comprehend I’m not bailing him out this time.

As I try to step around him, he steps in front of me again.

“What are you doing, Duffy?”

“You can’t leave me.”

“The hell I can’t.”

“If you don’t take me with you, I’ll rat you out. I’ll sing like a goddamn canary if I somehow survive this night. If I go down, I’m taking you with me. All your safehouses aren’t safe anymore. The government will confiscate all our businesses. You’ll have nothing and be nothing without me.”

The nerve of this cheeky fucker, threatening me like he somehow has the upper hand in this game.

I sigh. “Oh, Duff. You never could keep your cards to yourself, playing them way too early.”

Raising my gun, I press the barrel between his eyes.

“But—”

“But nothing, mate. You shouldn’t have threatened me. It’s nothing personal. Just business.”

Not wasting another second on this worthless piece of shit, I pull the trigger. The bullet tears through his skull, exploding out the back. A bit of back splatter hits me and my hostage in the face. She covers her mouth, muffling her cries at the sight of Duffy’s dead weight hitting the ground. Perhaps she takes my action as a warning not to test me. I need her to respond on cue when I command it. It’s the only way for Candy to find me in all this noise.

Pushing forward, we round the corner, finding two men in black fatigue and military grade rifles at the ready. They guard the exit at the end of the hall where a pile of dead guards and bidders lay at their feet. Catching sight of us, they shout something in our direction, with their guns aimed our way.

Acting fast, I pull back around the corner, yanking the woman with me. Whimpering, she covers her ears as my two remaining men fire off a few shots before retreating toward us.

“Are they dead?”

“No, sir. They’re heading this way.”

Fuck. Going down the corridor is no longer an option. There is a long line of tall windows near the back of the estate that could be shot out to make a fast retreat. We can’t cross the hall without getting shot at. We need a distraction.

The virgin in my arms was my only leverage to trade with Leslie. I need Leslie here. Now!

When push comes to shove.

“Keep them at bay.”

“Yes, Cú Sidhe.” One of them drops low to the floor to shoot down the corridor, while the other stands behind him, shooting from above.

Returning my attention to my only leverage, I grab my hostage by her bob of thick curls and spin her until her back is pressed to my front. With the wall at my back and the woman at my front, I have enough of a shield to stay safe from the approaching shooters.

Placing the barrel of my Glock against her temple, she sucks in a lung full of air. My lips graze the shell of her ear as I whisper, “Be a good girl and scream for me.”

She does not need to be told twice.

Releasing all the air from her pipes, the woman screams like a damn Banshee in the Irish countryside. It’s shrill and ear-piercing sharp, sure to bring Leslie straight to me.

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