Page 84 of The Gilded Cuff
“Indeed we shall. The way I like, of course. My rules. Leave your rent-a-cop at home. No one but you and me.”
“Fine, I’ll come alone. Cops would only stop me from killing you.” He had every intention of stopping Antonio’s heart and he’d do whatever he had to in order to make that came true.
“You know where to find me. The place where I owned your soul. I’ll be waiting.” Antonio hung up.
The place where I owned your soul. Emery’s fingers curled into fists. The abandoned mansion where he and Fenn had been held as children.
Hans cursed. “Shit, only a few seconds more and Cody said he would have been able to at least get a ping on a cell tower to narrow down a possible location…”
Emery shook his head. “No need. I know where he is.”
“Where?” Hans’s black brows rose in surprise.
“The old Carlton mansion. It’s ten miles from here.”
“How do you know where he is?”
There was a long pause as Emery forced his heart to slow from its galloping pace. “It’s the place where Fenn and I were held when he took us. He thinks it will rattle me, being back there.” Emery dug his hand into his pocket for the small handgun, thankful for the reassurance it provided.
“Will it rattle you?” Hans’s tone was quiet.
Emery smiled bitterly. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we.”
“Thank God. You’re letting me come. I thought for a second you might let that bastard control you.”
“He has Sophie.My Sophie. We play by my rules, whether he knows it or not.”
Hans’s smile was grim.
“Then let’s get to it. We have a woman to rescue,” Hans said.
And my soul to save.Emery knew that he’d never survive losing Sophie. He loved her and he’d wounded her, put her in the path of danger. This was not going to end with her dying. He wouldn’t let it. He wouldn’t allow Antonio to steal another life that mattered ever again.
***
The smell of rotting wood and mold burned Sophie’s nose. Her body trembled as it struggled to shed the aftereffects of the drug. The memory of that needle plunging into her neck slammed into her head, causing a violent headache. It pounded against her temples with the force of a bass drum. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips as she came around. She was facedown on a ratty cot in a dark room. She turned her head and blinked, giving her eyes a chance to focus in the dim light. When she moved her arm, something sticky clung to it. , and pain lanced through her.
She gasped when she saw the five-inch cut that was still bleeding. It didn’t look too deep, but it had bled quite a bit while she’d been unconscious. It burned like hell. Sophie struggled to sit up and glance about the room. It looked like she was in some sort of cellar. One out of a slasher film. Dark liquids of an unknown nature were collecting dust in rows of mason jars that sat on wooden shelves around the sides of the room. Electric lanterns hung from nails on the wooden posts supporting the ceiling. Dust and debris littered the floor where she sat and Sophie realized with a horrible sinking feeling that she had to be in an abandoned mansion somewhere. Emery had told her there were several empty, crumbling mansions not far from where he had been taken…
“Oh God…” She knew where she was. It was the only thing that made sense. She’d been taken to the mansion where Emery and Fenn had been held all those years ago.
The scuffle of boots on the wood stairs by the cot had her scrambling back. Boots and jeans came into view and then Antonio D’Angelo, the harbinger of doom for the Lockwood family, came into view. He paused at the bottom and leaned against the post at the base of the stair railing.
“Hello, sweetheart.” He had that tone of voice, one she knew sadly too well. There was evil in it, a delight in creating terror. The flash of his predatory smile was one she’d seen years ago on another man’s face as he’d taken away her best friend.
The primal part of Sophie was terrified, but the other half of her knew what to expect. He would do something to her, something that would hurt her in the worst possible way. But no matter what he did, there was a part of her that was untouchable: the part she’d given to Emery. The sacred barriers around her heart were strong as ever; not even Emery’s recent treatment could undo the love she carried for him.
“You and I are going to get acquainted, get the party started before Emery shows up.” He stripped off his black leather jacket and hung it on the post.
“Do you honestly think you’ll get to me that way? That I’m so easy to scare?” She replied coldly, but her voice was too hoarse.
“Yes, yes, I think I will. See, I know about your friend. Rachel. That was her name, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t you dare say her name.” Quiet rage filled her, giving her strength. She clenched her fists at her sides, restraining herself.
“Do you think she cried, when that man raped her? Maybe she liked it? I bet she liked it right up until he killed her and left her body in some shallow grave.”
The words were daggers. And she bled with each breath. White hot fury seared her brain. How she remained grounded and in control, she’d never know.
