Page 128 of Once A Crime Lord

“What?”

That was Gavin’s voice, flat and remote. Whoever had that dry voice was seconds away from death, he just didn’t know it.

“Eli’s not working for my friend. He’s been too busy indulging in some vigilante justice. He’s the perfect man to pin this on since he has the contacts and has been out of the spotlight, and oh yes, you two had a falling out.” The man’s sigh was full of admiration.

“If Lucifer’s telling the truth, what did you plan to do with Lyla?” Gavin asked, voice whisper soft.

“I needed insurance since you wouldn’t listen to me,” Eli said.

“I want to hear it from her,” Gavin said.

Eli tightened his grip and took a step back, dragging her with him. “Stay where you are, Pyre.”

“If you’re innocent, let her go. If not, I’ll kill you. You have thirty seconds.”

Gavin sounded homicidal. It was music to her ears. For a beat, Eli didn’t shift. She mentally urged him to hurry the fuck up.

“You know I had nothing to do with this, right?” Eli murmured under his breath.

She nodded. The knife left her throat and the gag loosened.

“He didn’t bring me here,” she said immediately and began to cough.

Eli’s arm dropped away, and she swayed only to be caught up against a solid chest. She didn’t need to take the blindfold off to know who he was. She wrapped quivering arms around Gavin and felt her tears soak the blindfold. His hand cradled the back of her head.

“My mother, Pyre,” Eli barked.

“One floor up in the hospital under the name Grace Stein,” he said as he held her so tight she could barely breathe. “I don’t kill old, defenseless women.”

“This is touching and all, but you’re running out of time,” the irritating voice said.

Gavin didn’t release her when she tried to raise her head and see who the fuck that guy was.

“Gaaaaavin,” the man whined. “You promised.”

He eased his hold on her to tug down the blindfold. She shut her eyes against the blinding light.

“Who took you? Do you know who he is?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and peered into his dangerous gold ones. He was really here. She ran her hand down his face with a trembling hand.

“I don’t know,” she said and began to wheeze again. “Water.”

She heard a door open behind Gavin. The sound of someone being whipped made her push away, but he didn’t release her.

“We have to help,” she said.

He shook his head. “No, we don’t. We’re in a brothel.”

She stilled. “Brothel?”

There was a fine hum of vicious energy around him. She wanted to burrow against him and beg him to take her home, but she knew that couldn’t happen. They had unfinished business, which included killing Sadist once and for all. She tried to suppress her shit and focus.

“Here.”

It took considerable effort to look away from Gavin to the man standing beside him. She surveyed the beast holding a bottle of water in his humongous hand. This guy looked like a wild mountain man with a full beard, a braid halfway down his back, and black, glittering eyes. He had to be over six-foot-five and built like a warrior from an age past. He wore baggy beige pants and a fitted tunic top, which showed every muscle beneath the fabric. She dimly registered that he wore red Crocs and nail polish, but his eyes were what distracted her. He was staring at her with a hunger she normally associated with Gavin, but it wasn’t sexual, it was something else. An eagerness for... something.

“You need water,” he said.

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