Page 51 of Ruthless Son

The ugly fucker in front of me curled his lip, his grip tightening on the gun until his partner grabbed his shoulder, whispering something in his ear.

I didn’t want the fuckers to shoot me, I wanted them off their game, their emotions taking control of their actions. It would give me a better chance of getting this prick beside me to move his gun. Just an inch. The minute he shifted slightly, I’d have him in front of me—my leverage.

My heart beat slowed, I heard every rustle and shift from the silent man beside me. My own gun strapped to me burned a hole in my skin as it waited for me to draw it free. I was the calm in the storm, waiting for my chance to strike and prove that they made the wrong damned choices. They should never have touched Mia, never have had the chance to.

I only needed one of these fuckers alive for information. The other two would die quickly, they were the lucky ones.

I couldn’t move fast enough though, with a nod to the man beside me, I braced for what was to come next. They had been still and silent for so long—not speaking, barely taking their eyes off of me. So when it came, I was pretty much just standing there with my dick hanging out.

Pain flashed in my skull, eyes of the darkest blue blazed with their torment in the shadows of my mind before I felt my body go weightless and hit the ground, spiraling into darkness.

Mia

When they first brought me here, I had been shaking, fear for myself and the life growing inside me had kept me silent. They’d sat me at a rickety old table, my wrists tied to the wooden arms tightly. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck, a trail of panic making its way down to the waistband of my jeans.

The trailer was parked up in an old scrapyard, unhitched and held up by concrete. The inside had been gutted, the sofas ripped out leaving behind tattered walls and cracked vinyl. The only thing inside the small space was the table, bolted to the floor with four chairs surrounding it. The little windows had been blacked out, no natural light could peek through leaving the confined space in a mix of gloom and artificial light. A bare bulb dangled from the ceiling, shining harshly in the shitty space.

When they had stuffed me in their car, their guns ushering me into the back seat, I’d regretted dashing off so suddenly, hating the fact that Rex had called out to me about the danger and I had ignored him.

I just hated that he was right, and now, I was stuck here with Tweedledee and Tweedledum, who were talking loudly and not worrying whether I could hear them.

The absolute morons talked in Ukrainian, a language that was as familiar and comfortable to me as English. They clearly hadn’t done their homework.

My grandfather had spent countless hours teaching me his first language, even refusing to speak English whilst at home. When staying with him, I had to converse in Ukrainian, or he would completely ignore me. The insufferable, loveable old man had cupped his ear on countless occasions when I’d slipped into English, pretending he couldn’t hear me.

They thought I couldn’t understand them. Oh, how wrong they were.

Knowing what they were saying had hope sparking within… they wanted Rex. Which meant the Street Kings would be close, maybe even looking for me already. I’d taken their truck, surely when they found it they would worry?

Of course, that hope fizzled out and died a death when they dragged an unconscious Rex inside. Throwing him in the seat opposite me, his restraints were tighter around his arms and legs, the cable ties zipped around his limbs, his skin turning red around the plastic where it cut into him.

My heart stuttered in my chest… he was too still. A bloody gash on the side of his head had turned his hair a matted crimson, the blood coating the side of his face. His head slumped on his chest, but I could see the pulse flutter in his neck and I breathed a sigh of relief that he was still alive. Though for how long, I wasn’t sure. Judging by their pinched expressions, it didn’t look like we were going anywhere soon.

God, please don’t hurt him anymore.

The men circled him, poking him and laughing when his body rocked.

“Hey, leave him alone!” I screeched at the bastards touching him, mocking him.

He’d come for me. He chased after me, even after I’d run from him, told him I’d never forgive him.

The anger gave way to worry, anxiety raking my insides as I stared at his chest to see its rise and fall, counting seconds between each breath.

Fuck!

“Excuse me.” Our kidnappers watched me with disinterest as I tried to grab their attention. “Hey, excuse me… I’m a nurse, maybe you could, you know, let me out so I can see to him… he’s hurt.”

One snorted, before firing a host of insults at his friend, words that showed completely how little he cared whether he lived or died.

If I could just get free, an arm loose, I could reach Rex, I could help him. The skinny guy who had been driving the first car who blocked me in, placed his gun and his phone on the table in front of me, smiling wickedly when I eyed them with interest.

“Podyvit'sya na neyi, vona dumaye, shcho u neyi ye shans.”

Look at her, she thinks she has a chance

It was so hard not reacting to him, it was ingrained in me to fire back in my grandfather’s tongue. I stared at the gun, specks of blood on the butt were a dead giveaway, it was him who had hurt Rex. I wanted to remember his face, so that in my dreams I could kill him a thousand different ways.

Rex stirred beside me and groaned, trying to lift his head. “Nice of you to wake up, sleeping beauty.” Hearing my voice, his head shot up, his pupils blown and unfocussed. “Don’t move so quickly,” I whispered, seeing him wince at the glare from the bulb dangling right above his head. “Take deep breaths, that’s it…” He faced me with his eyes squeezed shut, nostrils flaring as he tried to gain some control over his body. He had a concussion, confusion lined his face along with his worry for me. He wiggled his fingers, trying to break free, but all it achieved was plastic biting into his skin, tearing the soft skin of his wrists, a bead of blood welled along the edge as he thrashed against the restraints. “Stop, Rex. You’re hurting yourself.”

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