Page 38 of The Enforcer's Redemption

Our group moves quickly and stealthily toward the large, stacked containers, guns raised and ready for anything. It's silent all around us except for the water lapping against the docks and the creaking of the ships moored at their berths. As we creep closer, I can just make out voices inside one of the containers. I doubt it’s the women, and as I peer around the corner, I see a few men smoking cigarettes and talking.

"In there," I whisper, pointing to a container that has a line of men in front of it. Lochlan, Connor, and Ronan flank me as we approach. Nicholas and Aiden take the other side with Brynn reluctantly following.

"On my signal," I mouth, and they all nod in agreement. "One, two, three!"

We round the corner at once, catching the men by surprise. The element of surprise is on our side as we open fire without mercy. Men fall left and right, their cries muffled by the soundof gunfire. A few of them get a couple of rounds off, but they’re mercilessly slaughtered anyway. I step over a body to reach for the door, but it's locked, not budging.

“Over there!” a man shouts, and instantly, there is a hail of bullets pinging against the containers all around us.

We all take cover, crouching around the corners, ducking behind barrels. Finn hides behind the tow motor and lets a few rounds rip out of his gun, and I take aim on more of Sebastian’s men as they race toward us.

“We’re pinned down!” Connor shouts, and I swear under my breath.

“Lochlan, take the left side, Finn the right. We’ll provide cover!” I yell over the gunfire. Lochlan and Finn nod and bolt out from their hiding spots, spraying bullets as they go.

A bullet whizzes past my head, and I duck low behind a crate. There’s a scream, and I peek my head up to see Brynn staggering backward, his chest covered in blood.

“Dammit!” I scream, scrambling to my feet. We can’t afford loss of life, and the crimson stain blossoming on his shirt tells me it’s bad. “Fecking stay down,” I tell him, shoving one of my spare weapons into his hands for self-defense. I drag him behind the crate and continue on my mission to knock down as many of these men as I can.

Lochlan and Finn have thinned out the herd, but more keep coming. I duck behind the corner of the container, breathing hard as I reload my weapon.

A hand grabs my ankle, and I whip around, ready to end whoever it is. It’s one of Sebastian’s men, clutching at hisstomach. I point my gun at his face, prepared to send him to hell when he speaks up.

“I know where they are!” he gasps, blood bubbling from his lips.

“Where?” I demand. He points to a container farther down the docks, and I nod.

“Finn! Lochlan! We got a lead!” I yell over my shoulder as more gunfire erupts behind me.

I hope that poor bastard knows what he's done. I have mercy on him and let him live a few more minutes at least as I dart down the pier toward the dark blue container, praying Isla is there. That I'm not too late.

28

ISLA

My eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness now. There is no way of telling whether it's day or night. Not a sliver of light seeps through the thick metal walls of this container. Esther, the woman with the candle, lights this place up every so often, which is a small relief, but the darkness doesn't scare me as much as it initially did.

My nose has become blind to the scents too. I know we must stink to high heaven. There is no place to pee and every so often, the rank stench of urine meets my nose, but even that quickly fades into the atmosphere of what must be the grossest smell on the planet.

When someone passes me a piece of crusty bread and some warm cheese, I pass. The texture in my fingers is enough to tell me I don’t want to eat it, but passing on it doesn't stop my stomach from churning. Bile forces its way up into my throat, and I vomit on myself. Luckily, I haven't eaten in days so there's only a small mess.

I'm leaning on the wall, pressing my face to the cold metal as I close my eyes. The only thing about me that isn't weak ismy sense of hope that Declan and Ronan will come get us out of here. I know that for whatever reason, my marrying into the O'Rourke family was desperately important, and now after hearing bits and pieces of things I'm not sure I understand, I wonder if there's more to it than just my taking his name.

"Get off me," someone grumbles, and I hear someone else yelp. There's a bit of a scuffle at the far end of the container before it calms again.

Sleep starts to come, playing at the edges of my consciousness for a few languid seconds as I think morbid thoughts of death and suicide. If they don't come, I'll chew through my own arm or something, anything to stop the inevitable from happening. I won't be traded like a whore, and I will never allow my baby to be born into this world and stolen from me, sold off to the highest bidder. Or worse, they could kill my baby.

Just as I feel myself starting to doze, I think I hear the rapid pop of gunshots. My mind is foggy with sleep, hazy with a dream tempting me into its embrace. Declan, shooting his way through a crowd of men to rescue me, throwing his arms around me and kissing me passionately, my father there, cheering him on. But a voice startles me, and I jerk awake.

"What's that sound?" one of the women asks. She's sitting far away from me, but her voice reverberates down the narrow space to reach me.

"Yeah, it sounds like fireworks…" Another voice from the darkness.

"Oh, God," I mumble, covering my mouth. I sit straighter and listen, but their murmurs cover the sound. "Shh!" I hiss at them, and the container goes silent. Pressing my ear to the wall, Ilisten again, and there's no mistaking it. The rapid pop, pop, pop echoes again, and I shoot to my feet, slamming my palms on the wall and screaming, "Help!"

"Sit down. Shut up! No one's coming for you," someone says. I think it's that nasty bitty from the room back at that house, and I don't pay any attention to her.

"They're here! I knew they'd come. It's Declan. He's coming." My chest vibrates with energy. I continue smacking the wall, shouting at the top of my lungs. Soon, other women join me in the ruckus, chanting and pounding on the container. The noise is so loud, I can't tell if the gunshots have stopped, but the only way to let them know where we are is to make noise.

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