Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I struggle against the restraints. Fear grips me as I realize just how helpless I am.
I don’t like the feeling. I don’t like fear. I trained myself against it on the inside. But at least I knew where I was, what the rules were, and how to break them.
I don’t know where I am or who I’m with. My hands are literally tied, and I don’t know what my next move is.
What happened? How did I get here? I was… I had my parole revocation hearing. Went to see Raven. Then…
Drove to Austin to see Savannah’s father.
Yes. Vincent Gallo. He talked about sacrifices. Talked about…
I can’t remember any more.
“Let me go, Gallo.” I growl through clenched teeth.
“He’s not here,” the same voice says, “but I am.”
“Who the fuck are you, then?” I squint, trying to get my vision to become clear.
The man in front of me is dressed in a suit, and his hair is…gray. No, it’s actually white. It’s…
“Mario Bianchi,” I say.
His wrinkled lips twist into a grin. “You’re good, given we’ve never met. And this is Declan McAllister.”
“Miles’s father,” I grit out.
“Good again,” Bianchi says.
“What the fuck do you want with me?”
“We have no use for you,” McAllister says, “although I could take out of your ass what you and your friend cost me after that break-in you orchestrated.”
“Go right ahead,” I tell him, “and I’ll get you and your son for false imprisonment and attempted rape.”
Bianchi chuckles. “You think it’s all that simple. You’re such an innocent.”
I pull at my restraints. “I’m far from innocent.”
“You think because you ruled your cellblock you can take us on?” Bianchi chuckles again. “You have a lot to learn, Savage.”
“If you have no interest in me, why am I here?”
“Simple enough,” McAllister says. “You’re the bait.”
No.
No, no, no!
“You leave her out of this, damn it. She’s safe, and—”
A blow lands on my jaw before I can finish. I’m not sure which one did it. Probably McAllister. Bianchi’s an old man. The ache jars me, makes my teeth rattle, but I’m good at hiding pain.
“You’ll never find her,” I grit out, spitting blood.
“No,” McAllister says, “but she’ll find us.”
Fuck. My hands are bound, and they took my phone. Used facial recognition while I was out cold.
Savannah. They called her on my satellite phone.
“Seems she’s very upset at the thought of us having you,” McAllister continues.
“How can you do this?” I spit out. “She’s your fucking granddaughter!”
Bianchi doesn’t answer. Why would he? This is business to him. He violated his grandson in the name of business. Got one of them killed.
I’m dealing with vile criminals, not unlike Zion in prison. Only these creeps have the upper hand. They have money and power, and they’re not locked up every night.
They’re way more dangerous than Zion.
“She won’t come,” I say. “She’ll know I don’t want her here.”
“Oh, she’ll come,” McAllister says. “She’s already given herself up to save your ass, and this time, she knows we’ve got you.”
My mind races as McAllister’s words sink in.
Fuck.
Savannah will come, and there’s not a thing I can do to stop her. She’ll bring Vinnie with her, not because she wants to but because he’ll insist.
That’s the one light in this tunnel. If Bianchi gets Vinnie back, he’ll finally have the natural heir to his legacy back. He may have no more need for Savannah.
And Vinnie…
With the guilt he feels, he’ll sacrifice himself for Savannah.
Savannah and I would be free.
But she won’t let him. And neither will I.
The ropes bite into my skin as I struggle against them, willing myself to stay strong. One of them is loose, but even if I get my hands free, my feet are still bound.
I’m utterly helpless, and I don’t like that feeling. I hate it, in fact.
Another guy comes toward me with a cup of water. Must be one of their goons. He holds it against my lips, tilting it slightly. I eagerly lap up what I can, though a lot of the liquid dribbles down my chin. Once the cup is empty, the goon disappears.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Bianchi says. “They won’t be here for another hour at least.”
Fuck.
I close my eyes.
Turn back, Vannah, I beg subliminally. Please turn back.
But my eyes pop open when two more goons grab me and put me in a chair, tying down my thighs so I can’t move. “What’s this about?” I demand.
“Not much,” one of them says, his eyes gleaming. “The boss said we could have some fun with you.” He clocks my jaw.
I catapult back to the time when Zion and two of his goons attacked me—the time I broke his jaw.
That was three against one, but at least I could move.
This is two against one, and I’m fucking strapped down.
I take it. I take it all.
They batter and bloody me. Pain courses through every fiber of my being, but I grit my teeth and refuse to show any signs of weakness.