Those were the last words he heard before he succumbed to the darkness. He didn’t even know when he fell from the chair and hit the dusty concrete floor with a thud.
* * *
Archer opened his eyes. He was alone, lying on the dusty floor of the derelict building. Painfully he scrambled to his feet and staggered towards the door. His body ached. His face was sore and left eye almost swollen shut. There was caked blood on his face and neck, also on his suit.
Staggering towards the door, he had to lift a hand to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun. Fortunately his car was still where he parked it untouched. He was surprised that Vasco hadn’t killed him or at the very least had his car tires slashed.
To Vasco, men like Archer were no match for men like him. Archer knew that Vasco did not consider him a formidable opponent or threat. Men like Vasco thrived on their ability to control and cause damage. The very idea that Mira was his property and that Archer dared come between them was what angered Vasco.
Vasco Black didn’t care about Mira. He didn’t care about her happiness. She was his hostage, unhappy and in pain not knowing where her father was. As Archer settled behind the wheel of his car, he touched his face. Glancing in the rear view marrow he observed that he looked like he’d been in a cage fight.
Checking the time he noted that it was minutes to eleven. The meeting would be over by this time and there would be no way he could attend looking the way he did. The best thing was to go home and get cleaned up.