Page 69 of Dirty Deeds

Guthrie pries Matthews’ hands from him and pushes him back.

“It sure as fuck ain’t yours either. I can go away for the rest of my life. You kidnapping your ex-wife is on you. You can kill her for all I give a damn.”

Something inside me snaps, and I rise to my full height, not giving two fucks if either one of them sees me. I already witnessed what Brent is capable of. The cunt wouldn’t think twice about strangling Danica. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past him to throw her overboard.

Making my way off the boat, I run back to my truck. It’s two against one and my father always said you don’t bring a sword to a gunfight. I don’t have a gun or a sword, all I have are my fists. I lower the tailgate to my truck. I’m a fucking carpenter, I should have something in here that can act as fucking weapon, but all my tools are at the jobsite. The only thing I have is a tire iron. Grabbing it, I close the tailgate and stalk toward Brent’s boat.

I didn’t get eyes on Danica. I don’t even know if she’s okay.

That alone fuels my fire and before I realize it, I’m standing on the boat. My eyes dart toward the cabin and that’s where I find her splayed across the floor, her hands tied behind her back and a tie wrapped around her mouth.

Matthews and Guthrie’s voices become muffled, and my fist tightens around the tire iron. Fuck the two of them. My first priority is her.

Always her.

As soon as I enter the cabin, she rolls onto her side, her eyes—bloodshot from crying—lock with mine and my chest tightens at the sight.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, dropping to my knees in front of her. The tire iron falls to the floor, and I reach around her, removing the gag from her mouth.

A gasped sob slips past her lips, and she sinks against me.

“I’m sorry,” she cries. “I should’ve listened to you.”

I lean back on my haunches, taking her face in my hands.

“Shh,” I rasp, my gaze traveling over, inspecting her perfect face for injuries. There’s a nasty gash on the side of her head, but other than that she appears to be in one piece. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

Come hell or high water, I’m going to end this fucking nightmare once and for all.

I glance over my shoulder, out the window and my gaze lands on the two men. Guthrie’s fists rears back, colliding with Brent’s face and they start beating the fuck out of one another. I turn back to Danica and lean over her shoulder to see about untying her wrists, but their bound with heavy duty zip ties.

“I can’t untie you until we get out of here,” I tell her, my thumbs brushing away her tears.

“How are we going to get out of here? There’s only one way out and there’s no way he’s going to let us just go.”

“I’ll handle it,” I say, dropping my hands away from her face as reach for the tire iron.

Danica’s eyes widen. “No. Enzo, please. You can’t go after him—”

I cut her off. There’s no time for us to debate this.

“Stay here.”

I pull myself up and am about to head outside of the cabin when a loud crash sounds. I glance out the window and see Brent leaning over the edge of the boat—Guthrie nowhere in sight. Suddenly, he turns around, his eyes connecting with mine through the glass, a crazed expression on his face.

For the first time in my life, I’m regretting I didn’t pay close attention to my father. He’d know exactly what to do, he wouldn’t fucking freeze.

Brent makes his way inside the cabin.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” he sneers, blood dripping from his nose.

“I wouldn’t take another step, motherfucker,” I warn, although I’m ninety-nine percent sure my voice shakes.

“What are you going to do? Bust my other eye socket?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

He scoffs, advancing toward me. “You’re a fucking pussy. The only Scotto without a record. You wouldn’t know the first thing about taking someone out. Do yourself a favor, and back off. This concerns me and my wife.”

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