Page 64 of Soul Of A Villain

An anguished howl erupted from Oliver’s chest, torn from the very depths of his tarnished, tattered soul. It rang out through the trees and the chilled night air; an otherworldly sound so haunting and disturbing that even Lawson, hardened by combat and the loss of fellow Marines and brothers in arms, made the sign of the cross across his chest.

Oliver stared into the dark, hushed forest around them. Rage, unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, seeped through his body in a tide of scarlet red. It erased the pain he felt. The dizziness. The fog. All of it disintegrated into a single purpose. A deadly focus. A bloodthirsty hunger to cause unimaginable suffering to the men who had done this. Death would be the only reward for those who had stolen his wife.

His very heart and soul.

His love.

Oliver slipped the ring onto his pinkie. It was a tight fit, but it would stay there until he placed it on Londyn’s finger once again. On that day, she would smile at him with love and happiness as he swore his life to her.

“Let’s go,” Oliver said to Lawson, looking back at the man over his shoulder. His jaw clenched tight with the need to destroy and exact his revenge, his hands curling into fists as he envisioned all the many ways he would torture those standing in his way. “I have a wife to rescue and a lot of motherfuckers to kill.”

“Tell me what you need,O. Everything we have is available, and I’m headed to the airport now so I can meet you in Colorado.”

Oliver rubbed a towel over his head, wincing when the roughness of his actions caught the sutures of his wound. It would be a new scar to go with the few he already had.

“I need you to stay there with Ava, King. I’ve got it under control.”

Kingston sighed heavily. “You aren’t thinking clearly. Believe me, I know just what you are going through. When Ava was taken, I nearly lost my goddamn mind. You don’t have to do this alone, Oliver. I don’t want you to do this alone.”

“I get what you are saying, but if something happens to me, I’ll rely on you to finish it, King. Besides, I cannot take you away from Ava. She’d never forgive me if you didn’t return. And I sure as hell don’t want her to come looking for me in the afterlife. Stay there, Kingston.”

“Oliver, you can’t expect me to stand by while you blaze your way into the ranch,” Kingston argued. “You had my back with Ava. Now let me have your back with Londyn.”

Oliver twirled his wedding ring around. “You’ve been a good brother, King. You always were. Even when you had no reason to be. Even when I wanted you dead because of what went on with my mom. You watched me like a fucking hawk, expecting to be stabbed in the back, but you were always a good brother. I never deserved you or your faithfulness. I hope you will forgive me for every shitty thing I said or did to you over the years. I hope you can forgive me for trying to steal Ava from you. You would have been justified in slitting my throat that day when you came for her at her parents’ home. I get it now… your need to protect the one you love more than anything or anyone in this world. I understand that now. Because I feel that, God, how I feel that, for Londyn. I will walk through Hell and fight the Devil himself to get her back. And if I don’t make it, I want you to look after her. Will you do that?”

Kingston was silent for a long time, and then his gruff voice came through the line. “Goddamn it, Oliver. You don’t have to ask that; there’s no need for it. You are going to get her back. And you are going to love her for the rest of your days, just as I do Ava. Someday, our kids will be running around this mansion together as we, the parents, watch and swear to each other that they will have a better childhood than we ever dreamed of. And if you insist on keeping me away, I’m still sending Jack in my place.”

“You’re sending him?” Oliver asked in surprise. Jack was his brother’s right-hand man, and he was as brutal as they came. Along with Paulie, who rose through the ranks under their father, the man had devoted himself to Oliver and Kingston. There was no other man Oliver would have wanted beside him. He breathed easier. Between Jack and his crew sitting on go, there was no question of victory.

“Yes, I’m sending Jack. Now, go fucking slaughter every last one of them and get your ass back home so you and your wife can be in our wedding.”

Oliver laughed softly. “That’s the plan. I’ll see you soon, oh, and King?”

“Yeah?”

“It sounds fucking strange to say it out loud, especially since I’ve never said it before, but I-I love you, brother.”

Kingston’s chuckle contained amused exasperation. “Tell me that to my face the next time I see you. Now, go get your wife.”

ChapterThirty-Six

Londyn

“Wake up, bitch.”

Cold water splashed onto Londyn’s face. She gasped, coughing as it ran in rivulets down her cheeks. She opened her eyes to see Adam Franklin standing a foot away.

Behind him, leaning against the stone wall, was a man she did not recognize, although he bore a faint resemblance to Adam. She quickly did an inventory of her body, the aches and pains, the scrapes, bruises, and injuries sustained from the car wreck and the journey to this awful place. She was still dressed in the clothes she’d changed into before seeing Paris, but she was now barefoot, her boots were missing. The fact they had not undressed her was a blessing. Once they saw the tattoo on her back declaring her as property of Oliver Winter, Londyn had no doubt they would either slice the ink from her flesh or burn it off while she screamed in agony. In the hours that had passed since the abduction, no one had touched her other than the one deputy who struck her and some rough pawing from the guards outside her cell. They all seemed skittish about abusing her beyond that.

“Even looking like shit right now, you’re still quite the stunner.” Adam grinned, squatting so that he could peer into her face. “Hell of a lot prettier than your sister ever was. Smarter, too, or so I hear.”

“Fuck you,” Londyn whispered, her chin tilting. She glared at Adam, contempt oozing from every pore of her body. “That’s from me and Paris, you cretin.”

Adam’s mouth hardened into a thin line, and when he reared back a hand, Londyn kicked out as she scrambled away. The heel of her foot caught him square in the jaw.

The man against the wall laughed out loud as Adam cursed. Then his hard hands were reaching for Londyn’s legs, his fingers latching around one of her ankles in a bone-crushing grip. He jerked her to him as she clawed at the concrete floor, trying to escape.

“She’s a fucking little wildcat, ain’t she? Shit, the men lining up for the chance to hunt her don’t know what they’re in for. Well, maybe Barlow does,” the other man said “You’d think he would have learned his lesson from the first time. Winter bashed his damn head in, and he’s still determined to get his hands on her. Gotta admire the man’s persistence.”

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