Page 91 of Stolen Rival
“Let me talk to her.”
“No can do. She’s still out from the drugs.”
“Then how do I know she’s alive?” Just saying the words makes me want to vomit.
“You’re just going to have to take my word for it.”
He hangs up. My fists clench so tight, it feels like bone grinding on bone. Heat claws up my throat, bitter and acidic. I punch the gym bag that’s hanging from the ceiling on a chain. “Motherfuckingbastard.”
“What does he want?” Liam asks.
“What do you think? Dylan’s business. We’ve got less than twenty-four hours to find out where he took her and kill him.”
Liam nods, scrambling to his feet. Darragh goes to do the same, then wavers. “Give me an hour to metabolize whatever that bastard injected me with.”
“I’ll mobilize a team.” Liam claps me on the shoulder as he passes. “We’re getting her back, bro. Guaranteed.”
Nausea spreads through my gut, fear an acrid taste in mymouth. I can’t lose her. Dammit, Iwon’tfucking lose her. Not now. I’m a bad man in many ways, and maybe I deserve to suffer, butshedoesn’t.
First I take her family, then I take her, and now, because of me, her life is on the line. Whatever I have to do, I’m bringing her safely home, and I willneverlet anyone hurt her again, including me.Especiallyme. I’ll build a fortress, a panic room on every floor. I’ll hire twenty more guards, fifty, a fucking hundred.
I knew Andrew was dangerous, yet I let my ego convince me I had it all under control. Now he’s taken my wife, and it’s all my fault.
Once again, my actions, or in this case, inactions, have put someone close to me in danger. Grief punches me hard in the chest. I take several deep breaths, wrestling with my emotions. I lost my parents because I lost control, but I won’t fucking lose Sorcha.
A tenuous hard-fought calm settles over me. Bracing my arm around Darragh’s waist, I help him to his feet and half carry, half drag him to the living room. I leave him there to recover and return to my study. Liam is perfectly capable of putting a rescue team together, but until I figure out where Andrew’s taken Sorcha, we have no instructions to pass on.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes.Think. Andrew has only been back in Ireland a few weeks, and he’s never even left the property by himself. Wherever he’s taken her, he won’t have gone far. He wouldn’t risk one of my captains or soldiers spotting him out and about. They all know he’s under surveillance, so driving around on his own would be a colossal red flag.
Firing up my computer, I pull up a map of the area and study possible locations. He’ll want somewhere remoteto hole up. Somewhere Sorcha’s screams won’t be overheard. An abandoned farm building, maybe, or a warehouse. I print out several maps, and I’m circling potentials when Liam appears.
“Team’s mobilizing. I found Dan and Jeff. Same thing as Darragh. They didn’t even see him, just felt a sting in their neck and went down like a sack of spuds.”
“They okay?”
“Yeah. I’ve left them with Maeve. She’s making them something to eat to help push the drug out of their system. Darragh, too.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey.” Liam plants both hands on my desk. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I fucking do know that. We’re Mahoneys. No one fucks with what’s ours and gets away with it.”
“Yeah. But we know ‘what fucking with what’s ours’ might look like to our enemies.” I give him a look.
“You can’t think like that. For all you know, she could be fine.”
I raise an eyebrow. His tone suggests he doesn’t believe it anymore than I do. I push a couple of the maps across the desk. “I’ve marked a few possible places he might be keeping her. Start making a list.”
“On it.”
My knees quake as I push up from my chair, too much adrenaline coursing through my veins. “Gonna go talk to the gatehouse guard. See what he can tell me.”
“Good idea.”
The rare Irish sun beats down on me as I make my way to the gatehouse. I’ve carried a heavy load for years. Ever since my parents died, leaving me in charge of a business I wasn’t readyto lead, I’ve felt the weight of it. And now here we are again. Another person I care for, whose life could be snuffed out because of me. The fear is crushing me. If she dies I’ll… I’ll…
