Page 115 of Iron Blade

I bolted to the kitchen, but she wasn’t there. Then back to the living room, the walled-in garden, and then the bathroom. She wasn’t there. I went up the stairs, and inspected every bedroom. I even stormed into Shiny’s old room - it looked like someone puked Pepto-Bismol all over the place, it was so damn pink and princess-y.

But she wasn’t there. I even desperately checked beneath the beds, and in closets, but with every opened and closed door, dread sank deeper into my chest.

I went to the front, where Kieran O’Malley stood with his back to the door.

“Has Kira come through?” I demanded.

O’Malley almost jumped in surprise at my words.

“No, Mr. Green,” he said, his brows furrowing. “No one’s come out since everyone went inside.”

Where the fuck was she?

She was gone. She had run away. Or maybe she was kidnapped?

Fuck! If she was kidnapped, then…

“Give me your keys, O’Malley,” I said, reaching out a hand.

He didn’t hesitate to drop them in my hand. At best, she ran away, and I had to find her before anyone else did. At worst, she was kidnapped, and I needed to burn the world down until I found her.

Morelli’s threat rang in my head - “Leave her alone before she ends up just like your mother.”

Was that a fucking threat? Had he made it come true? Because if he had, I would bleed him dry, and hover him at the end of his life, and make him live days strapped to a bed with a fucking tube down his throat - alive, but helpless, beaten and broken every single fucking day, until he’s begging for death.

I drove O’Malley’s car back to the big house, and marched to the basement. I nodded at Bourne, who stood with his shoulder against the door, guarding the prisoner, his phone out in front of him, swiping on his screen.

I looked at Morelli, strung up by his muscular arms, the socket of one shoulder ready to pop out with the slightest tug. Covered in bruises and his own dried blood, he looked at me with a malicious defiance that made my blood turn cold.

I didn’t say a single word.

Not until he began to laugh.

I cleaned my nails with the edge of my iron blade. The one created when Dairo and I had pledged to be more than cousins - to be brothers. A pledge we kept to this day.

“If you were truly a smart man, you’d be begging me for your life, instead of trying to taunt me,” I said quietly, looking at my hand.

Morelli had lived a long time in the life. That was certainly a credit to him, and his ability to stay alive. But right now, he was acting like a fool.

“I won’t beg you for shit.” He spat on the ground. If he was at his full strength, he would have spat it right into my face. But, instead, it fell limply to the ground before me, and I stared at the spittle on the stone ground, and lifted a brow.

“Even better,” I said, finally raising my eyes to see the old man.

I didn’t hate him. Not yet, at least. He was just some old lawyer that worked for a man like my father - the madness was necessary to live in this existence, after all. So I couldn’t blame him for that. No more than I blamed myself for being born to a mad man.

“Where have your people taken Kira Green?” I asked, plainly. “This is the one chance you have to keep your life.”

He looked at me, puzzled, his white brows coming together before his face brightened into a menacing smile. Then he laughed. The sound of it echoed from the stones and grated on my ears like nails on a chalkboard.

“You don’t know where she is?” He threw his head back and laughed, then coughed, when what little phlegm he had fell into his throat and his head flopped back down.

“Laugh all you want, old man.” My nostrils flared as I clenched my teeth. “You’ll end up dead before the day is done.”

His laughing didn’t stop immediately, to my irritation. It sputtered, and slowly faded, as his tired eyes seemed to find new life.

“We didn’t take your precious little Kira,” he chuckled. “She left you, boy!”

My fist clenched, as I felt the truth of his words. The Italians hadn’t taken her, which meant that she left on her own. But how?

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