Page 40 of The Devil's Price

The sedan—where the hell is it? It had a head start, but I won’t let it slip away. My heart hammers in my chest as I scan every corner, every side street, every reflection in the glass.

The streets are more familiar now, the rough edges of Doyle territory creeping into my view as I push my way deeper into their world. I know this place—the broken sidewalks, the faded neon signs, the unmarked buildings that are nothing more than a front for something darker. The air feels heavy, thick with tension. Every corner I turn only leads me further into their domain.

I’m focused, but the knot in my gut keeps tightening. I have to get to her fast. They won’t keep her for long.

I take the next corner with a burst of speed, my eyes darting across the intersection ahead for any signs of danger. My car surges forward through the amber glow of the traffic light when, out of nowhere, a black SUV comes barreling from the left, slicing across my intended path with alarming speed.

My heart leaps into my throat, and instinct takes control. I yank the steering wheel with all my might, swerving violently to dodge the impending collision. The tires scream in protest, and the car fishtails wildly, the rear end swinging out as if in slow-motion—a surreal moment where the world seems to twist and contort around me. The shriek of rubber skidding across asphalt is ear-splitting as I battle to regain control of the vehicle.

My teeth grind together as the car jolts back into a straight line, mere inches from the unforgiving edge of the curb. The SUV roars past me, its dark silhouette a blur that narrowly avoids contact. I remain frozen for a heartbeat, my hands clenched around the wheel, my breaths coming in heavy, ragged bursts that fill the cabin. That was too close—far too close.

For a second, I think I should wait and hope Ronan can help me, but there's no time. I press my foot to the floor again and take off. Even if I have to hunt every last one of them down myself and slaughter them individually, I will. They won't hurt her and my unborn child.

29

SIOBHAN

My heart is racing, every muscle in my body rigid as the men who've attacked me jerk me around. I can't scream, can't fight back. They've shoved a bag over my head then tied something around my mouth making it impossible to make a sound and difficult to breathe. And my hands and feet are tied too tightly, fingers and toes going numb.

The only thing I know is they've shoved me into a tight space. I can't stretch out, but I can feel every bump in the road. I think it's the trunk of a car because every now and then, the inertia changes and I slam my head into something hard. I'm terrified and I wish I could at least see things.

I try to calm myself because crying won't help me, and my sinuses are making so much mucus, it's making it even more difficult to breathe. I hate to admit it even to myself, but Liam was right about this whole thing from the beginning. I hated how he treated me—like a child. But he was a good friend despite being dirty. He knew what I was getting into better than I ever imagined because he was living it.

I wonder what they did to him to break him, if this is something they do to everyone or if I'm different because I'm the prosecutor. Every bump in the road makes me question whether my time here on Earth is over, if my breaths are numbered now.

When the car comes to a stop, finally ending the beating I've been taking, I hear male voices. There are at least two of them out there, laughing and joking. They snatched me right out of that courthouse with ease like they were taking candy from a baby. I wasn't prepared for the assault, but I'd never have stood a chance against two grown men at once, anyway. I wonder if they're the same men who tried to attack me on the street too.

"Let's take her in," one of them says, the only thing I can understand of their muffled conversation. I hear the latch pop and it takes a moment, but I sense more light and fresher air seeping through the fabric of this burlap sack over my head.

"Come on, Princess." The man's rough voice is followed by his firm grasp. He takes my arm and yanks me upward, not caring about my safety. My head slams into something very hard, and I wince, whimpering into the gag, but the fabric swallows it up. I want to protest and fight them, but it's impossible with these restraints. Physically, I have succumbed to my fate of being their captive, though my mind is still sharp and reactive. I won't let them break me.

More hands encircle my other arm. I feel myself hoisted upward, and then my knees hit something very hard. I soon realize it's the ground as they start dragging me, tearing the flesh from my kneecaps and shins. My back goes stiff. I dig my toes into the ground hoping to stop the pain but quickly remember I've lost my shoes, and the pavement is much kinder to my knees than my tiptoes.

It's horrid feeling the skin slowly being peeled back from my lower extremities. I'm helpless to fight against them, though I do try to get my feet under me and walk. Until I feel a kick to my side and I crumple back to a hanging position, one man on each arm.

When the pavement gives way to grass, I cry tears of relief, only for it to become worse as grass fades to gravel, and then a set of stairs where each step jars my pelvis. All I can think of is the baby and what this might do. I don’t want to lose the baby. I don’t want to be here. I want Finn and I want to go home, and all of those thoughts bring on more tears as I realize they're not fucking around. They're going to kill me.

So why haven't they done it yet?

At last, relief comes when somewhere inside a building, they drop me and let my arms relax against my back. I lie on my stomach for a second, catching my breath, smelling the stench of cigar smoke and booze. I'm lying on carpet, though it's not well padded. I can feel it against my chest where my shirt dips.

The room is quiet for a moment as I suck in stuttering breaths, trying to clear my airway of snot and emotion. My shoulders ache from being bent at an awkward angle to drag me in here and my knees throb from being dragged. But I remind myself that I’m still alive. They haven't killed me yet, so there is hope. Hope that Finn will realize I'm not back with my briefcase and that he has to come find me.

"Gentlemen, that's no way to treat a lady. Now is it?" The new man's voice is mocking, unkind, but he represents change in my situation. A third man who may hopefully undo what these men have done. I try to roll to my back but feel a boot on my shoulder pinning me down.

Then something happens and my hands are loose. I lie perfectly still, wondering what is going on as then my feet are loosed, and they rip the bag off my head, along with the gag.

Blinking my eyes, I put my hands under my chest and force myself upward. The boot on my shoulder lifts, and I look up to see the man who cut me loose. We're alone now, the other two filing out the door as I clamber to a seated position on the floor. My face must be a wreck. I use the back of my arm to wipe away snot from my lip and cheek.

"Here, let me help you up," the new man offers, extending his hand to me.

I glance around the barren room. It's just ugly colored brown carpet and bare walls. Two chairs at a metal table that looks to be bolted into place. It's very reminiscent of an interrogation room at the Garda station, but I think this is an office building of some kind, or a home. The walls are plaster, not concrete.

Swallowing hard, I allow myself to take his hand, and he helps me up. My knees are badly bloodied. Bits of rock and dirt cling to my skin. He clicks his tongue and hands me a handkerchief with a large, cursive D embroidered into it.

"Clean yourself up, Ms. Gallagher. We have a lot to talk about." A cold chill creeps across my skin as he gestures at one of the chairs and says, "Have a seat."

First, I use the kerchief to wipe my face and blow my nose. Then I use a clean side to dab at the blood which is already clotting. Scabs are going to form over this filth and I'll get an infection. I shake my head and glare at him.

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