Page 34 of It Was Always You

Chapter 28

Getting into the basement was suspiciously easy. Only one camera was aimed at the door, and no guards were in sight. It’s child’s play for Liam to disable that and as we pile into the basement it’s glaringly obvious Cora’s not down here. Looking around the basement fills me past the boiling point with rage all over again, as I clock the tiny-ass cell, bare except for a bucket in the corner. The stench of urine and vomit cling to the air, solidifying the fact that that inhume cell is most likely where Cora was kept. She shouldn’t have to spend three godforsaken seconds in there, never mind three weeks.

Cursing, Jonathan signals for us to ascend up the stairs, guns raised and eyes peeled. The door opens with a creak so loud we freeze. After a few seconds when nobody comes in to check on us, we continue up the stairs with Ciaran leading the way. As we get to the first landing, we hear laughter coming from one of the rooms. There, we split. I follow Jonathan upstairs with the others. Guns at the ready and every muscle tensed for action.

An empty hall and sealed doors greet us. We split up into teams of three and each team takes a different door. It’s the fastest way to check all the rooms at once and stop them from having the surprise element over us.

Two soldiers I’ve never had much dealings with stand on either side of the door, crouched, with their guns aimed while I kick it down. With the sound of numerous doors being kicked in and gunshots ringing out all around me, I stare into the room. As I walk into the room, someone comes running at me, pinning me to the wall. It knocks a grunt out of me, and on instinct, I knee the fucker in his balls, which causes him to remove his arm from my windpipe. I quickly pin him to the wall with my gun to his temple while he’s distracted. “Where the fuck is she?”

He laughs in my face before trying to swipe my feet from under me, only for me to stomp down on his instep. He lets out a roar of pain before grunting, “You’ll never get your slut back.”

With that my patience snaps. I shoot him right between the eyes before letting his body drop.

It’s chaos, utter bloodthirsty chaos. My favourite kind. The whole hall by this point is like a brawl but with guns and untrained thugs. I quickly pull one of the thugs of one of our guys and body slam him into the wall before knocking him out. I catch sight of Jonathan looking more murderous than I’ve ever seen him outside. He’s straddling a guy, bloodlust dripping from his every move as he shoves his gun into the fucker’s windpipe.

As I look around to see if anyone else needs help, I hear a scream over the noise of gunfire.

A scream that makes my blood run cold. I’d know that scream anywhere.

It haunts my dreams and lives in my head rent-free.

Jonathan must have the same thought as he freezes mid-fight and locks eyes with me. I sprint, dodging punches and bullets on my way downstairs. Bodies litter the floor, but the awed silence is unexpected as our men drop to their knees.

At the end of the hall, stands a blood-soaked, avenging angel. Dressed in what was once a white mini dress, clutching a broken chair leg and surrounded by shaking, shivering half-naked girls is none other than Cora. She’s lost weight and is covered in enough cuts and bruises to make my blood boil. But it’s her alright.

This world is full of shitty things and deals but the one moral that every member of the Table is meant to uphold is to not deal in the sex or skin trade. Clearly, Angus thought otherwise, if the underage girls are to be considered.

“Who hurt you?” I stalk towards her, determined to wipe out every fucker in this place who ever laid a hand on her. I rest my forehead against hers as she clings to me.

“It’s okay, O…I killed him.” My bloody angel. Taking life by the balls and dishing out her own punishments. I couldn’t be prouder of her if I tried.

“That’s my fucking baby girl.” I mummer, pride making me want to shout it from the rooftops. I press a kiss on her forehead. Fuck, it feels so good to be able to do that.

“Owen, I think there’s more to this than we know.” Just as she says these ominous words, Dad and the others run towards us, only to freeze when they take in the display of her strength and bravery.

Jonathan crosses the room and pulls her into a bone-crushing hug, before pulling back and cupping her face.

“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart. Let’s get you girls out of here.” With a final kiss on her forehead, he places his suit jacket around her shoulders before turning to face his men. Matt and the other guys join me and Cora, offering the girls their jackets and gently leading them to follow us out of this hell hole.

We make our way towards the door behind Jonathan, and the men bow their heads before flanking us. Cora might not know the shift in respect her actions tonight have caused, but I do and soon she will too.

We’re a good twenty feet away from the door when all of a sudden, bullets start exploding through the doors. With a curse, I drag Cora down and shield her with my body as Matt and the others look after the other girls.

In a matter of moments, the door is obliterated and there standing behind the smoke of gunfire is the evil fucker behind all this. With a cocky smirk on his face and a rifle in his hands, he fills the doorway looking every inch the smug asshole he is. “Ah, now why’d you have to try and ruin my fun.” That Scottish accent serves as a sure-fire way to piss every man here off and as one we stand up and tighten ranks around the girls, guns drawn. I get my knife from my back pocket. Just in case. “Angus, I told you if you ever touched a hair on her head, I’d come for you,” Jonathan growls, “and that’s not to speak of the anger my men have for you.”

“She’s in one piece, isn’t she? No harm, no foul."

I squeeze Cora’s shaking hand and tighten my grip on my knife.

“O, he was going to auction me off…the girls.” I know Jonathan has heard her whispered words as well because he tenses before snarling, “Just what was your plan here?”

“Now, Johnny boy, that would be telling.”

“Probably what he was going to do to her mum. What he did do to mine.” Like a Viking riding in on a horse to deliver the fatal blow, Logan appears behind Angus. In a matter of seconds, before anyone can grasp what is happening, he has his knife in hand and uses that knife to slit his father’s throat. As Angus slumps to the ground at his feet, Logan pulls out his gun and empties the chamber of his gun into Angus’ head. Only then does Logan crouch down to wipe his knife clean on his father’s suit jacket before pocketing it and facing us.

“Apologies, Mr. O’Neill. I had meant to deal with him sooner than this, but things didn’t quite pan out.”

The last time I saw Logan, he was a shocked teen at nearly getting killed by one of his father’s men so seeing him here as cool as a cucumber after murdering his dad in cold blood is a shock to my system.

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