Page 71 of Vengeful Eyes
“The fuck have you done?” Quinn suddenly bellows, his hands pulling me closer to him.
“Can I suggest you calm down? This will be a lot simpler without a scene in public.” American. Educated. I try shaking my head, clearing my vision, but it’s getting worse not better. My body sags into Quinn, fucking useless without his support. “Guns, gentleman, please.” I feel my own being taken from me, the sound of it skimming across the floor as Quinn moves us around and then throws his. “Yours too, Nathan. We wouldn’t want a reminder of the last time we were all together.”
“Bitch,” he spits.
“Hmm. But I am a bitch with the power again. Lift him. We’re all going on a drive.” Quinn growls. I feel it reverberating off his chest as he begins trying to get me upright. Another arm comes in from the side, hoisting me upwards and starting to drag me. “And don’t worry about your little girls. Andreas is bringing them along, too.” The thought of Hope in trouble has me fighting whatever the fuck is inside me with more hatred as my muscles try to get moving again. Quinn stops me, holding me still.
“Fuck you, Hisa,” he snarls out, towing me with him.
“All in good time.”
Near silence then, just the faint sound of the music and cheers in the main auditorium. I’m half dragged, half hauled somewhere, my feet dragging over the carpet beneath me. The damn feeling pisses me off, priming my muscles to wake the fuck up. They struggle a little, feet trying to gain leverage against the floor.
“You hear me,” Quinn whispers, lifting me onto his side again and clamping hard into me. I grunt, unable to get anything out through my lips. “You stay down. You keep it quiet until you’re back fully.” Intelligent. I nod to myself, trying to focus on the carpet, walls, anything to bring my eyes back into line. Nothing comes, but the dizziness is wearing down, and my heart is slowing, as we keep moving.
“Cunts,” Quinn mutters as my body is taken from him.
Doors slam around me, my ass being put somewhere, and then engines start, several of them. I listen, trying to hear Hope, Quinn, or Nathan. There’s nothing, though, only the low purr of engines and quiet talking in Japanese. Fucking Yakuza scum. This bitch, whoever she is, is not going to survive the night. None of them are.
Twenty-Four
Quinn and Nathan rush after Benjamin, both of them concerned about what's happened, and all I can do is stand and watch. My feet are frozen in place, and I watch it play out. In my mind, I know I should follow him, check to see if he’s all right, but I can’t move. My fear grounds me. I gave him that drink. I handed the glass to him. There was no way I could know what was in it or that it wasn’t right, but will Benjamin think that? Will he see that I’d never do anything to hurt him? Or will he only see the blame and revenge I’ve been after and now put him in the middle of?
My eyes fly around the room looking for anything out of the ordinary. Or anyone.After everything that has happened, paranoia isn’t something to be underestimated.
Andreas’ words from the other night ring in my ear, but all I see are Emily and Gabby. They both look to me with questions in their eyes, and I’m sure all they’ll see on my face is guilt. I try to mask it, hoping to find a way out of this.
“What’s going on?” Gabby asks, stepping forward through the noise around us. There's enough accusation in her tone that I almost believe whatever is going onismy fault.
“Hello, Gabriella.”Shit.Andreas appears at the side of our table, and a flurry of men surround us, careful not to draw too much attention in the crowds.
Gabby’s expression registers her brother, first with surprise and then with hatred. She takes a step into him, apparently ready to attack, her hands balled at her sides.
“Ah, ah, ah.” He stops her in her tracks with a simple flick of his fingers. I follow their direction and see that Emily is now in the presence of two large men, hands latched onto her arms, one concealing a gun aimed in the low light. Tears glimmer in her eyes, and I’m punched in the stomach with the guilt they deliver to me.
Thisismy fault.
“Not again, Andreas,” Gabby snaps out.
“Quiet, bitch. You don’t get to say what happens here.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, visibly defying her brother, and keeps closing in on him.
“Don’t make this personal, Gabriella.”
“Personal?” Gabby’s disgust is palpable, even from my vantage point. “You sat and watched as I was raped and did nothing to stop it. As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead to me,” she seethes, spitting in his face. Two men grab her arms before she gets any further with her disgust, pulling her away from Andreas.
As he takes the handkerchief from his tux pocket, I slink back, stunned at what’s happening in front of me. My heel slips on the edge of the low step from our table area, and I fall, crumbling to the ground. From both sides, I’m flanked by further men, pulling me to my feet with rough hands.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I shout, trying to slap them away. My eyes swing to Andreas again, fury starting to override any other feelings. “Why the hell are you doing this?”
“Come on, Hope,” Andreas replies, giving me all of the attention. “You don’t think I’d just let you get away with what you’ve done. You don't run out on us. I warned you. I told you to watch your back.”
“Hope, what’s he talking about?” Gabby grits out.
“Take her away,” Andreas shouts through the continued cheers in the room, dismissing Gabby. She struggles immediately, slipping from one man’s grip and rounding on him again.
“Don’t you remember what happened last time I was taken, Andreas? How did that turn out for you, huh?” She struts forward and punches him square in the shoulder. Andreas’ face clouds with anger and he grabs her arm. His men swarm around her, trying to contain what’s happening amongst the charity partygoers.
