Page 104 of King of the Cage

My suspicions were confirmed when I reached the hallway outside the walk-in cooler. A huge meat locker that used to house hundreds of carcasses.

I slowed to a walk, my heart pounding. I recognized the men outside the room.

“You can’t go in, Giada,” Vinnie said quickly, seeming nervous.

I cocked my head at him. “Says who? You?”

Not a single one of Elio’s men would dare touch me. I strolled past him. He went to reach for me and reared back.

I tutted. “Go ahead and put your hands on me… I dare you.”

“Fuck. He won’t like this.” Vinnie threw his hands up in defeat.

“I don’t care,” I murmured and pulled open the door.

Cold hit me immediately. Elio rose as soon as I was through the door. He was wearing some kind of arctic coat, and even then, his face was very pale.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“What do you think?” I tried to push past my brother, but he blocked me.

“I don’t know. Someone took you, forced you to marry him, and I’m fixing it. I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m here now. I’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t want you to take care of it.” I shoved Elio in the side so I could pass. “I never asked you to.”

“You don’t have to. I know what you want from life, and Bran O’Connor isn’t it. Don’t worry, I’ll make it look like an accident. There’ll be no war.”

I shook my head, suddenly panicking. Was he already dead?

“Where is he?” I demanded.

“I told you, he’s taken care of,” Elio started.

“Where is he, Elio! Where is my husband?” My shout echoed around the walls of the locker, repeating again and again.

Elio stepped back, like my words had been a slap.

“Your husband? He’s not your husband just because he made you sign something, or filed some paperwork behind your back. This can all be fixed.”

Then I saw him. It was so cold in the locker, mist shrouded the deeper recesses. There were old bags hanging from hooks in the ceiling, swaying in the breeze from the open door.

I caught a glimpse of something red and black.

Bran’s tattered, tattooed body.

A cry left me, a plaintive, desperate sound I’d never made before. It tore through my chest. Elio watched me curiously as I pushed the bags away and reached Bran’s side. His chest was bare, his T-shirt ripped down the front. He was strung up, his thick arms bulging with the effort. His head was pitched forward, and I couldn’t see his face.

“Get him down,” I commanded Elio. “Now!”

“Giada—” Elio began.

“Get him down this second, or I swear, you’re dead to me.” I fixed him with a serious expression.

He stared at me for a few long, precious seconds and then swore. He disappeared, and shortly after, the metal hook Bran was suspended from descended.

He hit the floor hard despite my best efforts to cushion his fall, and I guided him the rest of the way down. He didn’t move once. His back was a bloody mess, and there was so much blood on the floor, it looked like a red skating rink beneath us. Frozen red ground, with a bloodless white body sprawled across it.

“Call an ambulance.”

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