Page 24 of Sinner's Ransom: Taken
Sloan huffed with laughter. “Now the problem is that you look too comfortable to be a prisoner. We should fix that.”
“Fix it how?”
He clicked his fingers and the big man who Conall had stood beside walked up to them. He stared down at Montgomery, and Montgomery knew what was coming this time. A large set of knuckles slammed into his cheek, sending his head whipping to the side and making him stumble into Stone.
Stone grabbed him tightly, a furious look passing over his face. “What are you doing?”
“We’re making him look like a prisoner,” Sloan said, sounding far too amused for Montgomery’s liking. “Let Byrne do his job. He’s the expert at this.”
Montgomery spat into his hand, blood splattering from his mouth. He’d bitten his inner cheek when the punch landed. He glared up at Byrne, but even if he wanted to defend himself, he couldn’t. Not with his wrists tied together. Another punch came at him and landed on his eye this time. It nearly knocked him out completely. The world around him went black for a split second, then he was back again.
Stone shoved him behind his body and straightened. “Touch him again. Do it.” The warning lingered in his voice.
Montgomery pressed a palm to his eye, the throbbing giving him a headache, but he managed to make out the way Sloan squinted at Stone carefully.
“You’ve only had him for a couple of days, Nick. Don’t get too attached. A human’s survival instinct kicks in when they realize they might die. He’s using you to get his freedom.” He spun on his heel, his leather shoes squeaking on the floorboards beneath them, then strode back toward Conall.
Stone peered at Montgomery over his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Montgomery nodded. The tangy blood tasted like shit against his tongue. “Hurts like a bitch, though.”
“Let’s get something clear, Killough.” Stone took a step forward, but the big man who punched Montgomery stood in front of him, blocking his path. “Monty is my captive. I do what I want with him, and none of your guys will touch him again unless I give them, and you, permission. George might be loyal to you, but I run my crew the way I want. I don’t need your input on how I do things around these parts.”
“Yet you want my help.” Annoyance crossed Sloan’s face, and Montgomery stiffened, shifting closer to Stone.
“It’s not your help when we’re paying for it, which wasn’t an agreement to begin with. So now we’re using your services, which makes this relationship very different.” Stone’s clenched jaw twitched.
“You don’t like businessmen, do you, Nick?” Sloan asked.
“No.” It was a simple answer, and Stone didn’t elaborate. It felt like a Mexican standoff—two strong men staring each other down, waiting for the other to flinch. Sloan’s bodyguards hovered around, waiting, but finally their boss shook his head and their postures relaxed.
“Why?”
“Because businessmen take advantage of the poorer man. They force them to lose everything.”
Something like realization passed over Sloan’s face, and he nodded. “I see, and that’s the reason for your personal vendetta against Booker.”
“Yes.”
“Very well. Let’s get to work, then.”
