Page 4 of If Tomorrow Never Comes

Madison’s sisterMikayla and I are doing some sickly sweet Green Tea shots at the bar. All I heard was Jameson. I don’t know how they drink these damn things. I’d rather drink my own piss. But considering it was a peace offering, I just grin and bear it, letting the liquid slide down my throat. Madison and Selena are out front smoking and chatting. They really should have someone with them. I’m glad those two are getting along for Killian’s sake, but there is still something I can’t put my finger on with her.

Something that makes me question if she is back here for the right reasons.

“I think you and Maddy are a better fit, to be honest. Don’t tell your brother that though…” Mikayla’s voice is muffled over my thoughts—which are loud as hell right now. Something’s not right. I can feel it.

Before I can respond, an old rusted black van comes screeching to a halt by the curb. The door slides open and two men in black ski masks get out, grabbing my girl and Selena. My heart drops into my stomach at the scene unfolding before me. Mikayla’s back is turned from the window—thank God.

Madison cries out my name, terror lacing her voice. Her attempts at escaping do nothing besides piss off the men who areabducting her. The man with Madison in his grasp is becoming more aggressive with each move of resistance. She’s thrashing and clawing, kicking and punching. He pulls her flush against him, securing her in the van.

It’s shaking me to my fucking core seeing her like that. Those bastards will regret the day they laid a hand on my woman. I bolt past a questioning Mikayla but it’s too late.

It’s too fucking late.

Madison’s screams die behind the slamming of the van’s door. Her beautiful eyes, wide with panic as a needle slides into her neck. The van speeds away without anyone at the party noticing.

FUCK! I tug on my hair violently.

I keep fucking failing her. I’m so sorry, baby. I will find you. I promise you. I promise you, I prom?—

“Liam,” Killian’s voice jolts me awake. I haven’t slept much. Every time I do, I relive that moment over and over again. His hand lands on my shoulder, gripping it firmly. “We are landing in a few minutes.”

I wipe the sleep from my eyes and sit up straight in my chair. We are on the jet heading to Miami. Our connections in the Miami Syndicate have been in touch with Killian this past week.

It’s been two long torturous weeks of not knowing any information.

Until now.

There was always the possibility this could have been retaliation from the Cuban-Miami Syndicate. For killing Selena’s father. Our Miami allies received visual confirmation. The footage shows Selena and another woman being escorted off the private airfield and into a helicopter idling nearby.

The part that really got my blood boiling was the fact that they observed Selena awake and walking on her own accord. Madison—or we assume this to be her—was hauled over a man’s shoulders, seemingly unconscious.

Killian had a hard time believing Selena could have playedhim this way. Honestly, my gut kept telling me she set this whole goddamn thing up. I should have listened to it when she first came to the house crying for help.Alan just so happened to be in our home the same day she begs her ex-lover for refuge? Trojan horse, remember?

“Fuck.” I let out a shaky breath, running my hand through my hair. A nervous habit of mine that Madison finds sexy and loves to point out. The Cubans are ruthless. Their forms of torture makeeven mewant to vomit.

I remember being witness to Selena’s father torturing a young boy. The lad was barely a day over seventeen.

He had been caught stealing from one of the grocery store registers in downtown Miami. His mum was severely sick and his infant sister had run out of formula. I don’t think the boy knew who he was stealing from or that it was from the mafia. Perhaps if he had known, he would have found another way to get what he needed.Perhaps not. He was willing to do anything just to feed his sister.

Selena’s father Basilio blindfolded Killian and I, got us on a boat waiting at the dock of his Miami mansion, and brought us to some exclusive island. Our blindfolds weren’t removed until we reached a dungeon below the property.

All kinds of torture devices were laid out on a stainless steel table. Devices, as a young lad, I hadneverseen before in my life. And quite frankly—never want to see again. All sorts of twisted shit.

The boy had been strung up by heavy rusted chains attached to the ceiling. His head was slumped forward, eyes swollen shut, barely able to keep conscious after his initial beating.

And here I was thinking Jack Kennedy was merciless. Basilio was downright evil. Evil to his fuckingpatheticcore. I’m so glad I got to be the one who ended his life. Although, my bullet was far too kind for the way he deserved to leave this Earth.

Needless to say, the boy was left bloodied and missing a fewfingers. His face was slashed so horribly you could see right down to the bone. Basilio let him go back to his sister and mum. But he made sure to send him home with a ‘goody bag’ of formula and his fingers taped to the top of the box.Like I said…pure evil.

The jet begins to make its descent. I look out the window at Miami’s coast below, admiring the beauty of the ocean and all the little islands surrounding it. Wait a fucking minute…that’s it.The island. That could be the key to what we’ve been trying to figure out.

“Kil, I think I know where they are,” I smile. For the first time, I feel like we are one step closer to getting my girl back.

It’s the first time I feel a shred of hope.

I quickly run Killian through my idea as we are landing.

Declan,the head of the Irish Miami Syndicate, greets us as we take a seat in the back of his blacked-out Suburban.

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