I rise to my full height, instinctively slipping into protective older brother mode. “Only if you tell me where Mads is.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “But they’ve probably moved her since I escaped.”
“Don’t care. Tell me.” My voice is tight with determination. I need to get to Mads and do everything I can to save her. Iwillmake up for not protecting her in the first place.
“Keys first.”
My eyes narrow. That’s my sister—always pushing, always negotiating, even now. “They’re in the garage.”
“Fine, then. Money now, keys later.” She rubs her thumb and forefinger together expectantly in my direction.
I roll my eyes but pull out my wallet. Instead of cash, I slap my credit card into her palm. She shoves it in her pocket.
“Give me your phone.”
“Tell me where she is, for shite’s sake!” The urgency in my voice betrays my rising panic. Every second wasted is a second Mads spends in danger.
“Phone!”
I curse and hand it over, dragging a hand through my hair again. Frustration wars with fear in my chest. I watch as she types something, her fingers moving rapidly over the screen. Then she hands it back and finally tells me where Mads is.
We both take off for the garage, feet pounding the floor. The sound echoes the drumming of my heart, frantic, desperate. Finally after all the waiting, there’s something to fuckingdo.
“Even if they’ve moved Mads,” she says as we run, “there could still be bad guys there. I texted Isaak and his security guys the address so you’ll have backup.”
I grunt in acknowledgment, mind already racing ahead to what I’ll do when I get there. I don’t care if I have to spill blood. I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back safe.
I’ve already fucked this up royally. I knew something was off with Mads. The way she was baiting me so intentionally. I should never have let her walk out that door.
“Buy a burner as soon as you’re done breaking the priest’s heart. Keep me up to date.”
As soon as we hit the garage, I point to the key box. “Keys.”
I don’t wait to see which car Moira chooses. I’m already sliding into my fastest car, adrenaline lighting through my veins.
I peel out of the garage, tires screeching, my entire focus narrowing to a single burning point: Mads. The love of my life. The woman I’ve failed to protect.
I’ll find her. I’ll save her. And God help anyone who stands in my way.
THIRTY-SEVEN
MADS
The new locationis a far cry from the decrepit warehouse. They’ve moved me to what looks like a private, upscale club—the kind with mahogany paneling, leather chairs, and oil paintings of dead rich men staring down from the walls. The basement level has been converted into something more sinister, though the expensive veneer remains. Soundproofed walls. Reinforced doors. State-of-the-art surveillance equipment humming quietly in the corners.
My wrists are zip-tied to a heavy wooden chair that probably costs more than most people’s cars. The irony isn’t lost on me that I’m about to be tortured in luxury accommodations. At least if I’m going to die, it’ll be in style.
The door opens with a soft click, and Pavel strolls in like he owns the place. Which, knowing his connections, he probably does. His scarred face is split by a grin that makes my skin crawl.
“Your girl did it,” he announces, settling into the chair across from me like we’re about to have tea and crumpets.
Relief floods through me so suddenly that I nearly sag in my restraints. Moira actually went through with it. She broke things off with Bane. Moira is free, Domhnall is safe, and maybe—just maybe—this nightmare is finally over.
“Great,” I respond, keeping my voice level despite the euphoria coursing through my veins. “You’ll let me go now?”
Pavel throws back his head and laughs—a sound like gravel being crushed in a cement mixer. The laughter goes on too long, echoing off the expensive walls until it becomes something genuinely unnerving.
“Oh,pcholka,” he wheezes, wiping tears from his eyes. “You are funnier than I remember.”