Page 20 of Vengeful Union

I freeze, and the man helping me stiffens as a shadow looms over the bathroom door, and I turn my head slightly.

It’s Oscar, not Scott.

I let out a relieved breath.

A guy I don’t recognize stands behind him.

My benefactor’s hands never waver on me. “Both of you, get the fuck out of here.”

“Your father asked me to stay,” Oscar says, and my eyes widen as realization finally sinks in.

This is the brother Bree has talked about. Rory.

But just because he’s Bree’s brother doesn't mean that I can trust him.

Even if I grew to love her like a sister, she’s not from the world’s best family, after all.

“I told Scott to stay away,” Oscar announces, almost proudly, like he’s really done something.

“If he comes back here, I’ll kill him,” Rory growls, wrapping a bandage around my thigh.

His touch is light and gentle, not bruising. It’s surprising. Maybe he’s more like his sister than I thought.

“Come on, she’s just a Burke,” Oscar pipes up.

“Shut the fuck up. No one asked you anything. And if you keep looking at her like that, I'll kick you out, too. What would my father say about that?”

Oscar shuts his mouth, and I keep my eyes trained on Rory.

I’m not sure how to trust him, given he’s clearly a part of this.

“Rory—” Oscar starts, and Rory stands, puffing out his chest, making his shoulders broad.

Oscar doesn’t say another word, just leaves the bathroom and goes down the stairs and out the front door. The other man follows.

“I’m sorry about them.”

“You’re sorry?” I move my leg back down to the floor and away from his touch, which is starting to become distracting. “Youkidnappedme.”

“Ididn’t do anything.” He sits back down, leaning against the back of the chair. “And we can fix all this, if you’ll just tell me where my sister is.”

“Bree?”

His eyes dart to mine. “Yes, Bree.”

I huff out a breath. “Is that what this is all about? Bree? She’s doing fine.”

“Where?”

I shrug. “Probably back at the mansion. It’s where they usually are.”

“They?”

“Bree and my brother, Declan.”

Rory frowns. “He’s the one who has her?”

“Has her? She’s married to him.”

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