Page 92 of Cherry Auction

Fuck.She’s right. I glare at the map.

Twelve minutes to destination.

Slatecraft airfield. Not a major airport, but the nearest private airstrip within thirty miles of the club.

He used to say all sorts of shit while he brutalized me… Cause the worst part is… by the end I didn’t always fight. Sometimes the fight went right out of me. It made him mad when I stopped fighting. So he’d lean over and whisper in my ear, trying to get a rise out of me:You should be glad to have me as a master, dog. You’re just a little shit-eater from the mud no one will ever give a fuck about. Even before I broke you and showed you what a little bitch you really are. I fly planes. You know, those things in the sky you’d look up and wish you could get out of your little hell hole on. Well this is as close as you’re gonna get to the sky, dog.

I finally wrestle out of Isaak’s grip and slam both fists against the dashboard. I hear the bones of my right hand snap as pain explodes like a bloom of flashing light behind my eyelids.

“Fuck! Domhn!” Quinn yells again, the car swerving slightly.

“Grab him, Isaak!” Moira shouts.

The pain gives me the briefest reprieve, taking my breath away as Isaak grabs me from behind.

The next second I remember where I am and what I’ve done.

What Ididn’tdo.

He has her. She’s been with him this whole time. She was just a kid.

I scream, veins in my neck throbbing to get away from Isaak’s insane, iron grip around me. My eyes flash down to the map again.

Seven minutes.

THIRTY-NINE

DOMHNALL

Isaak holdsme in check the entire rest of the way to the airfield.

“There.There,” I yell at Quinn.

“I see it,” she growls out through her teeth, spinning the wheel to turn down the gravel road towards the air hanger that’s lit up like a beacon in the darkness.

“Cut your lights,” Isaak says from behind us and Quinn immediately responds, the lights in front of us disappearing.

“There she is,” I breathe out, my eyes zeroing in on the tiny figure of Brooke where she stands near a fuel line feeding into a small luxuryCessna.

“There theplaneis,” Quinn says. “At least it hasn’t left yet.”

“Great, but where the fuck is the bogey?” Isaak asks, reverting to military speak like he does when things really get tense.

“Step on it,” I demand. “And let me the fuck go.” This time when I wrench out of Isaak’s arms, he lets me free. Right in time, too, because just as Quinn stomps on the pedal, I see the bastard walking down the steps out of the airplane, both his and Brooke’s head swinging our way at the same time.

Quinn’s good at everything she does. So she expertly drives the car, even at top speed, and I can see she only intends to stomp the breaks once she’s inside the hanger, preferably after she’s put the car between Brooke and her father.

But neither of us see the saber tooth tire spikes allowing one-way traffic the fucker laid across the entrance until it’s too late.

The tires blow, and at the speed we’re going, it sends us spinning into the side of the hanger opposite the plane. The car blasts through the aluminum siding, but a central steel post stops us, immediately setting off the air bags.

I barely wait for the shockingthwackof the bag in my face to dissipate before I’m yanking out of my seatbelt and shoving my car door open.

“Everyone okay?” Quinn shouts, looking behind her to the back seat.

“Both okay back here,” Isaak says.

I glance back once to make sure my sister is nodding as Isaak helps her out of her seat belt and out the car door before I turn and start running.

---