Page 82 of Shattered Vows

“So why didn’t you just end me back at the manor when you had the chance?”

The other guy scoffs. “Because we’re being paid to make you suffer. And he wants to watch every minute of it. Seems it’s about time to get started.”

“I think you’re right, brother,” Louie says.

I try not to roll my eyes, not enjoying my face being their punching bag, but shit, these two are complete idiots. They’ve already given me enough information to figure out who they are, and they don’t even realize it.

“Jessie sends his regards,” Louie says and punches me on the other side of my face.

I temper my reaction as blood drips down onto my pants, and pretend to pass out.

“Shit, is he already out?” the other guy says.

“’Course he is. That’s how strong my punches are.”

Louie’s breath hits my face, and I know he’s leaning in to check whether I’m still breathing or not. I use the opportunity to headbutt him. He stumbles back, holding his head.

The first mistake these fuckers made was taking me in the first place. The second was tying my wrists to the chair with duct tape. All it takes is me yanking my arms toward my chest, and the tape splits apart.

It takes me two seconds to snap Louie’s neck. He’s barely made it to the floor before I’m lunging for his brother.

The only problem is that my ankles are still taped to the chair legs, so I twist my ankle as I move forward. Ignoring the pain, I go after the brother and bring him to the floor as he pulls a gun from his waistband.

The gun is wedged between us, and despite my adrenaline, the drugs they gave me are still affecting my actions. I don’t have my usual strength, and we wrestle for the gun. I need to get it out from between us before one of us accidentally pulls the trigger, and it’s just a crap shoot as to who’s taking the bullet.

Adapt and overcome.

I might not have my usual strength, but I have years of military training to pull from. So I let him get the upper hand and roll me off of him so that he straddles me. As I expected, he adjusts the gun in his hand and points it at me, but before he can pull the trigger, I disarm him, the way I’ve done thousands of times during various training exercises.

I waste no time pulling the trigger on him and pushing him off of me. Next, I get my feet loose from the chair that’s still attached, painfully twisting my right ankle because of the angle. Once that’s done, I stumble over to the tripod and pull the phone off, ending the recording.

I know very few people’s numbers by heart, but I know Sid’s, so I call him, hoping he’s somewhere at the manor.

“You finally coming up for air from between Rapsody’s legs?” He laughs.

“Obsidian, I need your help.”

“What is it?” His mood changes from humor to determined.

“I’m in the old caretaker’s shed, and my leg is fucked up. I need you to grab one of the vehicles and pick me up.”

“What the hell is going on?” I can hear him moving, probably running through the manor.

“I’ll explain when you get here. I’m going to start back toward the house, but it will take me too long to walk on this ankle. I need you to get Asher or Nero to check on Rapsody and make sure she’s okay. Tell them not to let her out of their sight. She could be in danger.”

“Fuck. I’m on it.” He hangs up without another word.

I trek back toward the manor, hobbling along, desperate to get back to Rapsody and make sure she’s okay. I don’t like that those guys mentioned her. There has to be a reason. Rapsody and I haven’t left the property together in weeks. Have they been surveilling me that long, or do they have someone on the inside?

My ankle screams to stop, but I push the pain out of my mind the same way I had to on missions when things went wrong. There will be time to deal with my injury, but not until I have my hands on Rapsody.

The sound of an engine meets my ears before I spot one of the utility vehicles headed straight for me. Sid pulls to a stop in front of me while I slide in beside him.

He gives me the once-over before punching the gas again. “What the fuck happened to you? You look like you’ve been worked over.”

I fill him in on what went down in the shed.

He shakes his head. “Jessie Wallace is a dead man.”

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