Page 32 of Ruthless Redemption

Unfortunately, whoever had grabbed him knew what the fuck they were doing and he couldn’t break free. The sound of metal sliding on metal hit his ears moments before he was shoved forward and onto the ground. No, not low enough for the ground. More like he’d been shoved in some kind of vehicle. A van probably, which explained the sliding door sound.

“What the fuck is going on?” He shoved his legs forward and connected with nothing but air. He struggled again against the hold on his arms, but he felt the cold metal and heard the familiar snick of handcuffs before he could break free.

“Mother fuckers. Izzy!” he yelled. “Izzy!!!”

The mania inside him grew out of control when he heard nothing beyond his own struggles and the screech of tires as the vehicle tore out of the parking garage to fuck knew where.

“She’s not here.” He didn’t recognize the gruff male voice, but he recorded it to memory so he’d know it when he heard it again.

“Where is she? Let her go before I kill you for this.” He bit back a string of curses as he tried to maintain some sort of control. He’d been grabbed or they’d been grabbed and if Frank or Marco—

His blood ran cold at the mere thought of Marco getting his hands on Izzy again. He swore he would make it rain down hell on this town if she was touched again. He’d barely survived through the first time, he wasn’t going to make it again.

“Calm the hell down. She’s safe. But the two of you are fucking everything up.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Who are you?”

“Just shut up and wait. As soon as we deliver you to the boss, he’ll fill you in.”

“Mother fucker broke my ribs back there.”

He remembered that moment back in the ball room. That last kick at one of Mazzeo’s security team. He’d heard the crack of those bones under his shoe. These were Frank’s men. An overdose of fear and anger rushed through him. He didn’t give a fuck what they did to him. There was nothing they could do he hadn’t endured before. Izzy on the other hand.

“If anyone touches my wife I will personally cut off each of your dicks and shove them up your asses,” he spat.

Two men chuckled. “Big threat from a man in cuffs and unable to do shit.”

Houston ground his teeth so hard he thought he heard one crack. He didn’t care what he had to do. When he got free, and make no mistake he would, he was done playing JD’s stupid games. He should have went with his plan from the beginning and he would have taken out Frank from a half mile away as he entered the hotel.

He slumped against the van and focused in on the route they were taking. He’d tracked the turns from the garage exit as best he could, but the way they were moving he needed to pay careful attention.

By the time the van stopped some thirty minutes or so later, they could have traveled to Timbuktu for all he knew. They’d definitely avoided a direct route. With over seventy-one turns, there was little doubt he wouldn’t know where they were.

The door slid open and he was jerked to his feet.

“Watch your step or you’ll end up face first into the concrete. Although I personally won’t mind. I think you ripped one of my arms out of its socket.”

Good. He’d committed the deep rasp of the security guard’s voice to memory. He couldn’t fucking wait to find him again. For now though, he’d play along. He needed to pretend to cooperate in order to drag this out. Frank would want his money back and right now the easiest way for that to happen was if he and Izzy signed it over. He could kill them both, but then he’d have to wait for probate to see a dime.

Frank was not a patient man and that trait could work for them or against them.

He tried to judge the distance from the van to the ground, but listed to the left a little too hard, forcing his bad knee to give out and slam directly into the hot concrete. Hot pokers of pain shot through his leg as tendons stretched past what they made to take.

Falling to the left on a grunt, the guard laughed and grabbed him by the arm. But he couldn’t put his full weight on that leg, which made him fall again to the other side without control of his arms and hands. Both men landed on the ground and this time Houston’s head slammed back into the unforgiving concrete.

“Mother fucker. Get off of me.” The guard pushed him over as dark, pain-filled shards vibrated through his head. At the minimum he probably had a concussion now. Between that and his knee, he was getting fucked all over again.

“Jesus, Mike. What the hell? It should not be that difficult to get him in the building. Get off your ass and haul him in here.”

Houston groaned again as both men grabbed at his arms and lifted him to his feet. Although this time he got most of his weight on his good leg and managed to stay upright. But the pain shooting through his knee with every limp forward did not bode well. Not that it mattered.

The only thing he cared about was getting loose and finding Izzy. He couldn’t get the image of her in that shitty house all those months ago out of his head. Bruises on her neck, track marks on her arms. She’d been drugged into compliance then. They’d made her willing to endure just about anything in that state and he’d lost his mind and his control, killing everyone.

The same kind of rage filled him now. A deep, gruesome need for violence bubbled to the surface as he imagined his bullet sinking into the flesh of his enemy.

In fact, this train of thought made the pain of his leg lessen with every step. It seemed the closer they got to his captor the more adrenalin that dumped into his system. All the fuel he needed for the coming fight.

He would not fail her.

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