Page 110 of Handsome Devil
“Jesus Christ. She went in the direction of the restrooms last I saw.” He wrenched himself out of my hold, elbowing me for good measure. “Please don’t make me kill you tonight. I’m really looking forward to the dessert.”
Ignoring the jackass, I galloped out of the ballroom. In the women’s restroom, I found a few horrified ladies who shrieked when I entered, but none of them was Gia. Men’s restroom—nothing but limp dick and a few lines of top-tier cocaine.
Tearing through the hallway of the ballroom floor, I began kicking doors open. Kitchen. Maintenance room. Grand suites.Where the fuck was she? I tried calling her, but my calls went straight to voicemail. Gia was angry, not stupid. She’d let me know she was okay. Would at least text.
Cold sweat formed over my brow. A foreign concept, and one I wasn’t eager to be introduced to. If she was getting back at me for my little stunt, this was a disproportionate penalty.
The hotel had twenty-five floors, and we were at the top of it. There was a good chance she wasn’t on the premises anymore.
A raspy cry erupted two doors into the hallway. Faint but unmistakably female. I inched to the room it came from, taking a step back and kicking the door down. It sailed and dragged across the plush carpet. I stomped over it on my way inside to find my wife pressed to the bed stomach down, her arms behind her back as a pasty, burly prick pressed his knee to her back while he zip-tied her. Another Irish soldier stood between us, advancing toward me with a knife.
Red tainted my vision as I grabbed the first guy and tossed him over his friend who was on top of Gia. They both tumbled down to the floor like bowling pins. One slammed against the wall beforehand, putting a hole in the drywall. Gia was still on the bed, motionless.
I grabbed the man on top of her by his greasy hair, yanking him to his feet. The other guy seemed in considerably worse shape, his neck fractured, by its unnatural angle. He was down for the count.
“Now.” I smashed the man’s nose against mine, sneering. He had heavy stubble and sharklike dead eyes. Definitely not a simple soldier. At least Tiernan Callaghan stopped sending me fucking amateurs. I was beginning to get a complex. “Want to try to zip-tie my wife again, this time to my face?”
The man pursed his lips insolently, trying to wiggle himself free of my hold.
Tugging on his hair, I angled his face to Gia, who was still on the mattress. “Does she look comfortable to you?”
No answer. Gia stared up in horror. She didn’t look injured, just shaken. My current behavior undoubtedly made things worse.
“Doesn’t look too comfortable to me.” I tossed the guy headfirst to the mattress far enough from her. I pressed the back of his head down with my palm, smothering him in an expensive sheet. “See? The lack of oxygen. The heat on your face. Not too friendly,” I said conversationally.
He flailed and writhed, squirming away from my touch. I yanked his head up.
“Where’s Tiernan?” I asked.
He coughed, gasped, but didn’t answer.
I pushed him down for another asphyxia session. Brought him up again after thirty seconds.
“How ’bout now?”
But he was a seasoned mobster, and despite his purple face and bloodshot eyes, his lips formed a thin line, and he gave me a cold stare. “Feck you, bastard.”
I put him down again. Finally, when he was weakened but not yet dead, I pulled him back up.
“One last chance to cooperate,” I offered.
His face was blue, his eyes swollen and unfocused. He wasn’t gonna crack.
“His death will be on your conscience,” I said to Gia, pointing at the still stoic man. “You could’ve prevented this if you just stayed put.”
“While you copped a feel and danced with a gorgeous woman?” Her eyes glittered.
Was she jealous? I wanted her to be.
“She is a mere child, and even if she wasn’t, you’re the only one who can do this to me.” I stepped toward the bed, grabbedher hand, and pushed it against my hardness. “Theonlyone, Gia.”
“You expect me to believe you don’t find other women attractive?” she spluttered.
“I don’t expect jack other than to stop trying to get yourself killed. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I dragged the brawny man toward the window, then slammed his face against the thick glass over and over again, breaking all his facial bones in the process.
“Jesus, Tate.” Gia scrambled up to a sitting position behind me. “What are you doing?”
“Throwing him out the window.”
