Page 57 of Wild Angel

Ithought it was Nyx. But Nyx is a nobody. A hired gun. Replaceable. Getting rid of her would be as easy as a bullet to the head.

I swallow, my mouth going dry at the thought.

She might be all those things, but more than anything…she’smine.

Donny wasn’t responsible for what happened to her sisters. He probably doesn’t even know they were kidnapped.

But Donnacha Brennan knowswhotook them.

And he might even know where they are.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Nyx

The air outside the club hits me like a slap in the face. Suddenly my entire body is buzzing. Savage has me by the back of the neck again, steering me along without regard for how treacherous my footing is.

I nearly twisted my ankle twice, and barking at him to slow down does nothing.

I’m livid that he thinks I’ve forgotten how to walk, but I’m also glad we’re out of the club. It’s probably just paranoia from the cocaine, but I swear someone was watching me.

Maybe it was just one of Savage’s guards lurking out of sight somewhere, but it didn’t feel like that.

Those eyes felt…prying.

“Where are we going?”

“You’re going back to your room in the villa, where you’ll stay until I’ve found your goddamn sisters.”

My heart shouldn’t soar with hope at his words. I mean, for fuck’s sake, Savage is treating me like a middle-aged housewife. Next he’ll be chaining me to the bed.

God, why does that thought make me horny?

Maybe because Savage keeps sticking things in me tonight. Who’d have thought a dangerous drug lord could be such a fucking tease?

Savage’s black SUV is waiting, already idling. He opens the door and shoves me into the backseat. I whirl around to cuss him out, but he slams the door in my face. There’s a click as he locks it.

I glance out the tinted windows, shrugging my shoulders as I study the line of people waiting to get into Seven Sins.

A couple exits as Savage revs the engine and puts the SUV into drive. The girl is tall and dark-haired, her date almost the same height. She’s laughing and falling all over the place, but him?

He looks pissed off. Maybe at her, for being so drunk. Maybe for some other reason. More importantly…

He’s staringrightat the car.

It could be a coincidence, but his eyes don’t move past. He stares at us for a solid second or two, and only then does he look away.

But I have a feeling he’s still got us in his peripheral view.

“Savage—”

“Enough,” he barks back. “One more word out of you, and I’ll put you over my fucking knee.”

His threat is so outlandish, so fucking preposterous, I whip my head around to gape at him. “What did you say?”

“You fucking heard me,” he mutters.

I’m pushed into my seat as he floors the gas and the SUV bolts away from the club’s entrance. When I glance back, I can’t see the serious man and his drunk date anymore.

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