Page 74 of Salvatore

“Then no, motherfucker.” Remy yanks his hand from his pocket. “I didn’t pack a fucking screwdriver in the few minutes’ notice I had that we were about to infiltrate a cartel hideout.”

“Why the fuck are you being such a prick tonight?” Matthew attempts to pull the door from the hinges using the knob as leverage.

“Because Olivia is going through hell worrying about Ivy, and watching her suffer through yet another disastrous situation is getting old. She deserves a fucking break.”

“Keep your voice down,” I warn.

I should’ve done this on my own. I can’t fucking think with that damn music and these assholes yapping.

“Why don’t I just go back to the parking garage and get a screwdriver from the car? There has to be one with the jack.” Remy makes for the hall.

“No,” I snap. “Getting from the elevator to the inside of this apartment was bad enough the first time when nobody but the cartel are meant to be on this floor. If you’re seen, we won’t get another chance to get her out. Check the kitchen instead. Someone might have left something useful in one of the cupboards.”

“And what are you going to do?” he demands.

I’m going to stand here, trying to hold my fucking temper while I grow more incensed at how Ivy is trapped on the other side of the wall while my brothers act like fucking third graders.

I open my mouth, prepared to launch a threat that will not only make him comply but have him begging forgiveness when Matthew cuts in.

“Just fucking look.” He pulls out his cell, turns on the torchlight, then places the device in the chest pocket of his suit jacket and shines it on the door in front of him. “I’ll see if one of my blades will work.” He retrieves a glinting knife from a sheath strapped to his wrist.

Remy huffs and storms from the room.

I keep pacing, failing to come up with a tangible plan.

I could call in a bomb threat, but the cartel are likely to keep Ivy locked in her room despite the danger. Same goes if we start a fire and set off the alarms. The only option is the balcony, and she’s not interested in playing nice.

“This is bullshit.” I scrub a rough hand over my mouth.

“You sure seem to be taking it seriously.” Matthew pauses his bladed screwdriver hack job and turns to me, the torchlight beaming me in the eyes from his pocket. “Do you have a thing for her?”

“Who?Ivy?” I scoff. She was a good lay. A fucking memorable one. And yes, that mouth of hers is equally tempting as it is entertaining, but that about sums things up. “What I have is a need to get her out so we can get the fuck home. It’s not like Olivia is going to let it go. Which means Remy won’t either.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I fucking did,” I snarl. “And if you don’t get that torchlight out of my goddamn eyes, I swear?—”

“I know the signs, brother.” He turns off the torch, blinding me with the darkness. “You’re not the first to fall for someone unconventional. I’m just surprised you fell at all. Do you even know her?”

“No, Matthew. I don’t know the fucking woman.” Not mentally at least. I know how she smells, the way she moans, and how well she takes my dick. I also know that when she walked out of that bathroom and found me masked and sitting on her bed, it was horror that bled into her features. She was shocked, yet not entirely surprised. As if finding a threatening man in her room was anticipated. And Iknowthat shit makes me fucking furious. “Hurry up and get that fucking door off its hinges.”

Thudded steps echo down the hall. “I found a butter knife.” Remy enters the room holding the cutlery out to Matthew. “There was also a lightbulb and an empty Snickers wrapper if they’re of any use.”

I turn my back to them, my anger increasing. We’re wasting time on that goddamn door when she doesn’t even want to step foot on the balcony.

“What would it take to cut the electricity to the building?” I crack my knuckles, the tension in my limbs growing by the minute. “No lights. No videos. No elevators. If we cause enough confusion, they might leave her there?—”

A scream cuts through the heavy thump of music, the sharp feminine shriek guttural.

I stiffen.

“Was that—” Remy doesn’t finish the question.

He doesn’t need to. We all know it was her. There’s no fucking doubt.

I stalk for the balcony.

“Don’t do it.” Matthew lunges after me, grabbing me by the arm. “Whatever’s going on in there has probably happened a hundred times before. Once more won’t break her.”

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