Page 97 of Sinner's Fury

Malice shook his head. “No. The only other known residence is in South Carolina.”

“Shit!”

“Brother, it’s your woman. You need to choose. Are we going north or south?”

Looking around at everyone, I didn’t know which path to choose. If I made the wrong one, that could mean death for Carly. Not to mention the horrendous pain and torture she would receive at the hands of Steele.

Looking at my watch, I said, “I need to make a call.”

No one said anything when I turned and reached into my jean pocket to retrieve the card he gave me. Dialing the number, I held my phone to my ear when I heard him answer, “O’Malley.”

“Did you mean it?” I rushed out.

“Christian?”

“Tell me the truth, Braesal. Did you mean what you said?”

“Yes,” the man resolutely replied, then asked, “What’s happened?”

“How close are you to Worcester?”

“My plane just landed in Boston. I can be in Worcester in an hour. Half the time, if it’s an emergency.”

“Hang on,” I firmly said, covering the receiver, looking at Mercy. “Montana’s plane. Is it ready to fly?”

“Yeah, but we don’t have a pilot. Montana’s in a jail cell in Iowa.”

“I can fly the family Cessna,” Joshua Stone stated.

“Malice, call Sinclair and have him check if there were any non-commercial flights leaving from LaGuardia within the last thirty-minutes to either Worcester or South Carolina.”

Malice nodded, making the call.

Returning to my phone, I said, “Steele has taken Carly, Braesal. She’s my wife. I love her.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Get your ass to Worcester, fast. I will send you an address. If she’s there, tell her I’m coming.”

“And Steele?”

I growled. “That motherfucker is mine.”

“Private plane registered to Sienna Craven, flew out of LaGuardia, heading for Worcester twenty-minutes ago.”

“You hear that, Braesal?”

“On my way, Cousin,” the man confirmed, then barked, “Text me the address when you are in the air.”

Disconnecting the call, I headed straight to the front doors with my brothers behind me.

The flight from LaGuardia to Worcester was scheduled to take at least an hour, which meant that by the time Steele’s plane landed, Carly would be in that fucker’s grasp for at least an hour before we could get to her. Her only hope was my cousin, Braesal O’Malley.

A man I barely knew and didn’t trust.

“Malice,” I whispered, distraught, my hands clenching tightly as I looked out the window of the plane.

“Don’t, brother. Whatever you are thinking will only make things worse.”

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