Page 94 of Líadan's Code

The examples make my blood boil, since they were all pivotal moments in Lía’s life, but meant nothing to the man laying in front of her at her mercy.

Sometimes, karma knows exactly what it’s doing.

Líadan pushes out her lips as she concentrates, pulling Cormac’s old man balls forward to decide where she’ll make the puncture wounds. Her gaze is clinical and detached, firmly focused on causing the most damage.

Immediately, I see I’ll need to assist, changing out my gloves for heavy black latex ones to take over for her.

The grin I get makes my heart flip flop. It’s disgusting how much I adore this woman. I’m willing to hold old man balls for her, and coach her on how to make him scream for her.

“Show me what you got, baby,” I say softly, squeezing Cormac’s balls hard for a moment in warning. He’s wiggling too much.

Taking a long nail, she pierces the skin before lifting the hammer and bringing it down hard. Following her lead, I move my hand, so she can continue, even going so far to push Cormac’s cock toward his face, so he pisses on himself. Neither of us need to be covered with the stench of his fear or pain.

Lía does a phenomenal job of nailing Cormac’s balls to the floor, and her skin is glowing with happiness. He manages to hold out until the third nail, and then passes out.

“You are one of the worst men in the world,” she growls, standing. Lía grumbles even though he can’t hear her, stomping to the kitchen to get something. As I hear the ice hit a bucket and later water, I smirk as I get out of her damn way. Líadan O’Brien is madder than a hornet and just as worked up.

Stomping back into the room, she dumps the bucket over his head. Sputtering, he howls as he jerks away, momentarily forgetting that his balls are nailed to the ground and thrashes. That only lasts long enough for him to realize the error of his ways, and he freezes in horror.

“I want you to be awake when the building goes up in flames. I want you to feel every lick of heat, terror, and despair, knowing there is no way out,” she says, lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Or… I have another option and I can put a bullet in your brain and release you to hell where you’ll burn anyway.”

Intrigued by what she’s up to, I wait until Cormac nods furiously and she removes the gag.

“Where is the warehouse where the human inventory is kept for the Carnal Auction, Cormac?” she asks, standing tall over him.

“Why do you know about that?” he pants. At Lía’s raised brow, he nods. She’s got him by the short hairs, and it’s obvious. “Fine, fine. Insufferable little girl. Those people are as good as dead anyway. No one’s been to see them in days. Just outside of the city, there are several large barns and buildings where we house and break in the inventory before the auction.”

“Address, Cormac,” she says in a low voice.

Nodding wildly, tears streaming down his face from the pain, he rattles it off and I memorize it.

“Are you expecting any more inventory for the auction?” Lía asks, eyes calculating.

“No,” he says. “I swear it. These people are ages sixteen to twenty-two and men and women. They’re all missing persons, who will never be found, barely missed. I had to make sure they were up to the caliber the auctions expect.”

My stomach clenches as I think about the lives Cormac and Seán have destroyed for money and greed. I had no idea any of this was happening.

“Tell me about the auctions,” I rasp. “Who does them?”

“Mila’s mother runs the auctions,” Cormac grunts. Her mother left her when she was very young, and I didn't think she had any ties to the family anymore. “The O’Malleys don’t know anything about the auctions, and Mila thinks her mother is dead. It was the perfect way to keep the auctions running.”

“Where can I find her, and why isn’t she paying attention to the human inventory?” Lía asks. I know she keeps emphasizing that they are humans to shame Cormac, but he doesn’t seem fazed.

“Nah, Trila doesn’t give a shit about the inventory as long as they’re delivered as promised,” he grunts. “I suppose you want her location as well?”

“Yep,” I grunt, pulling out some matches to play with to speed this up. Lighting the match, I watch as it burns, dropping it on him once it gets close enough to burn my fingers.

“Stop, you promised!” Cormac screeches, trying to evade the match the best he can. The flame goes out before it ever touches him. Idiot.

“I think you had something to tell us,” Lía says, rolling her eyes. Pushing up my mask, I wait for him to answer. I’m already planning to find all the alcohol in the house to use as an accelerant for the fire. It’s going to burn hot and be epic.

“Yes, yes. Let me think. Líadan, I can’t remember. Fuck!” he yells, closing his eyes as he breathes hard.

Cormac looks beaten even though this is more about emotional and mental warfare. He’s trussed up like a Christmas turkey, naked with his balls stretched tightly. For a man used to being in control and enjoying the finer things in life, he’s fallen hard and fast.

“She lives off Brentley Plaza,” he says finally, eyes wide. “980 is the building, and she lives in the penthouse. Fuck, can I go now.”

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