Page 50 of Rugged and Filthy

“You bastard.”

There was no disguising the blood rushing from my body, the knot in my stomach increasing. What in God’s name was the man getting at? How had he learned about Finn’s death? I was sick inside, my stomach twisted. He was goading me for a reaction, fishing to see if it was the truth. Goddamn it, I wanted to wipe the gleeful smile off his face. Should I be entertaining the thought he had someone run down Finn on the street? I hadn’t entertained that possibility given the note my sweet husband had left. What was really going on here?

His smile told me far too many things I didn’t want or need to know. “What did you fucking do?”

“I did nothing, sweet. Sweet. Rylee,” Madden said in an evil voice.

I had to pull back, to get control of my rage. He was trying to get under my skin. No. I wasn’t going to allow him.

“What happened to my sweet husband was a horrible tragedy, but yes, he enjoyed my kinky side very much. He used to call me his evil little wench.” Two could play at his horrible game.

“Did he now? I’ll keep that in mind when I take you to bed. And I assure you that I will.”

I was forced to grip the edge of the table with one hand to keep from slapping him across the face. While my jaw was clenched so fiercely my entire face ached, I was proud of myself that the smile remained. “I’m sorry, Mr. Byrne. I don’t go to bed with pompous assholes.” I heard one of his thugs coughing and I was certain Madden was going to knock the man’s block off.

He pulled out a folded set of papers, likely a contract. I was already incensed but when he opened it, even tugging an expensive pen from his suit jacket pocket, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Presumptuous much?” I asked, not yet glancing at the words on the paper.

“Let’s just say smart women know when to cut their losses, especially when doing so will be in their best interest.”

“Are you threatening me?” I asked, almost wishing the three musketeers were sitting closer.

Almost.

“Nonsense. I’m not that kind of man.”

“Right. No, you just take what you want. I am curious. You’re rich. You’re powerful. You’re influential. What would you want in a rig, especially a broken-down one?”

He swirled his glass back and forth, obviously debating his answer. “You would be surprised what precious jewels can be carved out of a rust bucket.”

Translated, he meant there was something other than the rig and the possibility of finding additional pockets of crude oil he had his sights set on. It was my duty to find out what that was. Sadly, how the fuck was I supposed to do that when I would be stuck on another one fifty freaking miles away?

I would find a way.

“Nothing surprises me when it comes to con artists and criminals. Whatever you want my father’s rig for, it’s not for sale. Period.” I slid the paperwork back across the table, giving him a harsh glare.

“I think you need to rethink your position, Mrs. Donnelly, lest you want your family to end up in even more dire straits than they already are.”

The bastard planted his fingers on top of mine and I wanted to vomit from his clammy touch. When he shoved it back in my direction, I sensed he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

I could also sense a spike in electricity and my subtle, very quick glance toward the three men watching me intently highlighted how aware they were of the situation. Hudson was ready to climb out of his skin, and Jack was forced to jerk him back down.

Doing the best I could to play it off, I laughed. “Threats, Madden? You disgust me.” I threw a hateful look, one that was meant for all four men. I didn’t need protectors, although I had to admit with Madden’s two goons watching me so closely, my skin was crawling from more than a hint of fear. Would the handsome three musketeers protect me against the vile creature?

What was I even thinking? I could handle my own battles, thank you very much.

“Take a look at the contract, Rylee. I’m certain you’ll find the terms more than adequate.”

In order to get the hell out of here, I did what he asked, not reacting as I flipped from one page to the other. The man didn’t blink, watching me like a hawk. When I got to the main page, the one featuring the terms of the deal, my mouth suddenly went dry. What in the fuck was hiding under the ocean’s surface that would bring thirty million dollars to the table? For our little rig?

My mind did some quick calculations. With the amount still owed on the two mortgages, that would leave the family with maybe three, possibly four million dollars. That was the kind of money that could change lives.

My God. What was I thinking? It was blood money.

But whose blood?

Whatever the man really wanted, I had the distinct feeling he’d kill to achieve. I was as sick as I’d ever been in my life, my stomach doing flipflops. But now wasn’t the time to break my resolve.

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