Page 76 of Bastard Prince
“I’ll see you in hell, Dino,” I said, then I spit on his corpse.
Shaking off the cramps in my hands, I removed the other cuff and slid the key into my pocket. Heading over to the boxes of trash, I fished around until I found something that would make a suitable weapon. Dino didn’t have a gun on him, and I knew the Sheriff would be more than happy to blow my brains out if he had the chance, so I didn’t want to be completely unarmed.
Finding a length of galvanized steel conduit, the kind used by electricians in construction, I hefted it, testing the weight. It was no Louisville slugger, but it would do in a pinch.
Stepping past the body on the floor, I flung the door open and made my way across the next room, this one just as empty as the first. As I approached the door, I could hear voices, and I paused to listen.
“What the fuck is it aboutyouthat has perfectly reasonable men panting like dogs?”
That was a woman’s voice, but it sure as fuck wasn’t Francesca.
Leaning in close, I grabbed the door handle, twisting it as slow as possible so I could see into the room.
But what I saw had my heart lurching in my chest.
Francesca was on the floor, her hands still cuffed, legs sprawled out in front of her. The woman—that cranky FBI bitch, by the look of that bad blazer—was standing over her, ranting about some shit or another, waving a gun.
As I watched, she stepped close, pressing the barrel of the gun against Francesca’s head, and that was the last fuckin’ straw.
I was so done with all this bullshit.
Slipping quietly into the room, I crept up behind her, listening as she continued to spew shit in Francesca’s direction.
“We’ll see how much they want you when your brains are splattered all over the wall, hey,princess?”
And my woman, my strong, determined, absolute queen of a woman, responded in kind.
“Still more than they could ever want you, you absolute psychopath.”
The bitch snarled, but enough was enough. Raising my pipe, I swung for the fences, connecting with the side of her head and laying her the fuck out.
Looking down into the shocked and relieved face of my beautiful wife, I smirked, the pipe resting on my shoulder.
“Hey, baby. You miss me?”
She blinked and sputtered out a laugh. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“Good. Because you’re in some kinda trouble.”
“Me?” she gasped. “What the hell did I do?”
“You broke rule number one, babe.” When she just blinked in confusion, I added, “You left with out kissing me goodbye.”
Kneeling down in front of her, I leaned in and kissed her, tasting her, breathing her the fuck in. Because I would never tell her, but when those assholes dragged her from that room, I was so terrified that I’d never see her again, I could feel my heart shriveling up at the thought.
Swallowing down my fucked-up emotions, I pulled back and smiled. “Now, let’s get the fuck outta here.”
“Wait!” she said when I reached for her. “My shoulder. It’s dislocated. Just...careful.”
Growling, I cast a glare at the blonde bitch lying on the floor as I stood. What the fuck had she done to my wife? Bending down, I placed my hands on Francesca’s waist and hoisted her up gently, holding her until she was steady on her feet. Then I reached into my pocket and produced the handcuff key.
“Where did you get that?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“You got it out of my belt, babe,” I replied, moving around and unlatching both her cuffs. I ran my thumbs over the red abrasions on her skin, hating that she had even one mark on her because of this bullshit.
“Well, that belt just keeps getting better and better.”
Once she was free, Francesca snagged the gun off the floor next to the woman whose name I couldn’t be bothered to remember and held it in her good hand. Her other arm hung limply at her side, and the grimace on her face said that it was killing her.
