Page 108 of Speechless
Still confused, Connor blinked. “If Sarah told you I was driving to the accident, why are you sat here?”
“Because, one, you’re supposed to be driving that way,” Cain retorted, pointing to the road leading right out of the lot, “and two, because you may have stupid ideas but you’re not actually stupid, I knew you’d figure out the scene of the abduction isn’t where you need to be. This is where it started, Con. Jenna came here, half-naked and on foot. That means she walked from wherever she was being held.”
Great minds thought too much alike, Connor admitted with a nod of agreement. Cain had obviously given this a great deal of thought to come to the same conclusion. “Yeah. That’s the way I see it.”
“I checked the cameras from the CCTV and Jenna came down that road. If she left any evidence two months ago, likelihood is it’s long gone. But in this snow? If anyone’s been out in this, we should find some sort of sign.”
“You kept the CCTV film from two months ago?”
“Figured the authorities would be interested in it. Caleb turned it down, but I kept it anyway.” Cain gave his brother a quick flick of his hand. “Are you going to drive or are we waiting for daylight to roll back around?”
Connor swung the truck in a tight circle and headed back onto the road. He’d lost the light as winter claimed the last vestiges of daytime, but he figured darkness would work to his—their—advantage. “Sarah drafted you into the suicide mission?”
Cain snorted. “I volunteered. No insane fuckwit steals my brother’s girl for nefarious purposes. That shit doesn’t happen in the Creek and it ain’t gonna slide.”
God bless Cain. “I can never repay for you this, you know that, right?”
His brother shifted in his seat, narrowed his eyes at Connor. “Did I ask for motherfucking payment, bro? This shit is personal. I love that girl just as much as you—well, obviously not in the biblical sense—but she’s basically my sister-in-law at this point. Fuck with the O’Malley’s and it’s all-out war.”
Connor glanced over his shoulder at the bags. “That’s what you’ve come prepared for? All-out war?”
“Yep.” The way Cain said it, it sounded more likeyerp. “Got everything we need in that duffel. Most of my registered stuff, plenty of ammo, a grenade or two.”
“Sweet Mother of Jesus, agrenade?” He nearly slammed the brakes on.
Cain threw his head back into the seat and laughed, slapping his thigh in punctuation. “I’m prepared, Connor, but even I’m not a die-hard weapons enthusiast. No grenades, I promise, but I do have some quality firecrackers.” He slapped his thigh a second time. “The look on your face is just priceless.”
Connor gripped the wheel in both hands. The worrying thing was he couldn’t be absolutely sure his baby brotherdidn’thave an arsenal of grenades and other exploding objects in his bag, just for an occasion—rare occasion—such as this. Either that, or Cain liked to throw grenades at unsuspecting squirrels in trees.
Neither would surprise him.
Night dropped into place, bringing with it even colder temperatures. The digital reading on the dashboard read impossible lows, and Connor found himself adjusting speed accordingly. Miles ticked past as both brothers scoured each side of the truck like hawks for any sign of disturbances, of life.
“Are you going to kill him?” Cain asked suddenly, soberly. There was no part of the prankster left now, his brother was all business. Deadly, to the point business.
For the first time in over an hour, Connor allowed his mind to focus fully on Jenna. He couldn’t function if he let himself imagine what was being done to her, how Sire might be hurting her. Right now, he needed to concentrate on finding her, and only finding her.
But he thought back to the night he’d set her on the exam table for his first good look at the mute mouse she’d been. The infected wounds, the scars, the goddamn brand over her breast. The mental and physical torture she’d suffered through and how long it had taken him to break through the terrified shell into the sweet, loving woman beneath.
“Yes.” A wealth of dark emotion stained that one word.
Cain nodded. “Good.”
“Good? You’re perfectly happy with the fact I’m out here to kill a man?”
“I wouldn’t be if theonlyreason you were out here was to kill a man. But your primary goal is rescuing your girl. Killing the man is secondary. Plus, he’s not really a man. Real men don’t torture, rape, and murder women.” Cain never looked away from the window. “There’ll be a toll, Connor. Are you willing to pay it?”
“What, like on my soul?”
“Yes.”
Connor drummed his fingers on the wheel as he thought hard about what ending a life would feel like. Whether snuffing someone’s existence out would weigh heavy on him. Anyone else but Sire, he reasoned, and he’d be drowned in guilt, remorse. Living with himself would be hell on earth, and that was before he faced judgement in the eyes of whatever ruled over the heavens.
But Sire…Connor imagined ending that fucker would give him a sense of peace, knowing he couldn’t touch Jenna again, would never be able to harm another woman. Ensuring the bastard’s reign of terror was over, permanently, would be worth any weight on his soul. “When Jenna wakes screaming from nightmares, she’s inconsolable. Distraught from what haunts her, waking and sleeping. I’m willing to sacrifice part of myself to be able to tell her he’s dead and buried. I can pay the toll, Cain.”
“Well, if it comes down to it and you can’t…” Cain turned to look at Connor and his face was more serious than Connor had ever seen it. “You tell me. The sonofabitch dies one way or another.”
Well, hell. “I won’t ask you to become a murderer, Cain.”