Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Remington might not love me, but he’d never hurt me, and I knew he wouldn’t. He was nothing like the dark-haired man or those who had captured me, and I wouldn’t give them access to him or his family. None of them deserved the treatment I was receiving.
I wondered how much longer it would take for him to just kill me. I hoped it wouldn’t be long. I was determined, but I didn’t know how much more I could take.
41
Remington
Lance met me down the street from the building where I’d seen Charles Landry and one of the gunrunners.
“Henri’s not the only one to have seen Charles since his supposed death. I’ve got Blackjack looking into it.” I was thankful I hadn’t even had to ask Lance to dig up all the intel he could.
“So you really think it’s him?”
“There’s certainly a chance,” Lance said.
Something seemed off, and suddenly I realized what it was. “Where’s Tony?”
“I left him at home. In his cage.”
Tony hated the cage, so Lance almost never left him there. “Why?”
“I needed to focus on you and Henri.”
I didn’t say anything else, but I knew how much that meant. Lance might annoy the hell out of me, but I couldn’t ask for a better brother.
“Show me the building. I’ll check out the perimeter to see if there’s any sign of a struggle or recent entry.”
I wanted to be the one in control. I wanted to be the one with the ideas, the one to save Henri, but the only thing that really mattered was that he was alive and whole and with me. I could barely think, so there was no way in hell I could orchestrate this mission. I had to listen to my brother.
Lance was the best tracker I knew. If there was any evidence of Henri being brought to the building, he would find it.
When we approached, I pointed to the side door where Charles had stood when he was shot. There was no one around. No cars were parked in the alley or on the street in front of the building like there had been before.
Lance motioned for me to wait. He moved carefully, looking at the ground. I was vibrating inside, but I held myself still. I didn’t even breathe as he studied the area. Finally, he motioned for me to join him. Had he found something?
He pointed to the ground. There were two sets of footprints visible in the muck of the alley. There were cigarette butts thrown down by the steps that led to the side door. They were still white and perfectly round. If they’d been there long, they would have been dirty and crushed. It wasn’t much, but someone had been there recently.
Lance’s phone buzzed, and he held up a finger, signaling me to stay where I was. A moment later, he held up his phone and showed me a text from Blackjack. Charles alive. Death faked. Working with gunrunners. Planned a takeover.
Shit, he’d double-crossed his twin brother. “He’s mine,” I whispered.
Instead of responding, he grabbed my arm and pointed at something shiny that lay to the side of the stoop. I bent and retrieved it. Henri’s phone.
Lance raised his brows, and I nodded. I wanted to rush in. I didn’t care who or what was in that building. I was going to take them out and get my man back, but Lance tugged me back down the street.
“We need a plan,” Lance said.
I could only nod in response. I was seething with anger, and I knew I was lost to reason.
42
Henri
The dark-haired man delivered a sharp kick to my chest. I thought the searing pain I felt might be from a cracked rib. I bit down on my lower lip, trying to stay quiet, but some of my agony crept through anyway. The man loomed over me, laughing. He was enjoying my misery. I wondered again when it would end, then something creaked, a man shouted, and gunfire erupted.
The man torturing me pulled his gun, but before he could aim it, Remington appeared and grabbed him. The man’s gun went flying, and Remington wrenched his neck. There was a sickening crack and Remington dropped his body to the floor and raced to me.
“Henri, are you okay?”
I couldn’t find my voice. I stared at the man who had tortured me. He had to be dead. No one’s head could hang at that angle if they were alive.
“Henri! Look at me. Please.” Remington’s hands skimmed over me. I cried out when he touched my arm. “Shit. I’ll take care of you. I promise. I wish I could kill that fucking bastard again.”
Lance appeared then. “It’s finished. I know you wanted Landry, but I killed him for you. Henri needed you more.”
He nodded as he ran his hand over my hair. “I’m right here, cher.”