Page 98 of Jaded Princess
When he’d raised his arm to touch me, I caught the holster under his arm, the gun nestled inside. I’d felt a gunshot before, and at the time, that pain was supposed to end me. By some luck of the draw, it didn’t. I’d endure it again, but for one reason only.
“Shoot me,” I said, chin up, teeth clenched. Trembles cascaded from my shoulders to my heels. “Go on. Do it.”
I almost missed it. A flicker of respect. “You want the suffering to end that quickly, do you?”
He stepped forward, and this time, I didn’t have the space to back away.
“You poor doe,” he said, tutting as he ran one finger down my cheek. I refused to flinch. “First losing your sister, your twin no less. And your attempts to find solace in darkness, I admire that. Danger causes grief to all but disappear, doesn’t it? Adrenaline. Power. Nothing else matters. But here’s the problem.” He let his hand drop once he completed the path down my face. “I don’t want suffering to ever end.”
“Show me Theo,” I all but whispered. “Let me see him, and you can do what you want.”
Cool air hit my flushed cheeks when he backed up. “Be careful what you wish for.”
When he turned, he sent a look to the doorway, one that caught the butler/wrestler’s eye. The man who groped me came at me again, and this time I snarled. “Don’t touch me.”
“You asked to see Sax. Well, you’re gonna.” He latched onto my arm, dragging me out of the room.
“You’re lucky,” Gordon said over my struggles. “Most people don’t have such excellent reception when they arrive.” His gaze flickered to my shorts, then up again. “I give you credit for not pissing yourself.”
“Where are you taking me?” I asked—dumbly, automatically, pointlessly.
“I don’t believe in slaughtered lambs,” Gordon said with disinterest. “So you’ll wait out your time with my middle son. Butcher, you know what to do.”
My shoes skidded against wood, but I was a toothpick compared to this man named Butcher. My heartbeats were stronger than my muscles, but I continued the fight, batting against tree-trunk arms and twisting.
I was good at this. Yet all my chances were trickling away the closer Butcher brought me to a door that led to captivity. He restrained me in a way that I couldn’t reach the necklace or press it if I tried. It required an exact touch, a precise click, in order to activate.
There was only one thing left, and I had nothing to lose.
“The police!” I shouted at Gordon. “They know I’m here. The FBI. If anything happens to me—”
“Oh, those men?” Gordon regarded me with a droll expression. “I have no worries about them. Half are in my pocket. Does Peter Chenko mean anything to you?”
I screeched through his arrogance and would’ve clawed him if I could.
“She’s like a fucking street cat,” Butcher said over my head. “Calm down before I knock you the fuck out.”
I believed him.
With his free hand, Butcher threw open a door leading to darkness. And without any further ado, he threw me down the stairs.