Page 40 of Reclaim (Deadly Hearts 3)

“Is there anyone else here?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Declan has gone downstairs. Adam is outside.”

I nod and watch as Ramsey cuts the padlock off and quietly slides it off the cage. He opens the door and Layton steps forward to help Tiff out, but I place my hand on his arm, shaking my head.

He quickly backs up and lets me crouch down to grasp Tiff’s upper arm to help her crawl out of the cage. Helping her to her feet, Layton drapes his massive jacket over her shoulders as I remove the blindfold, so she can see me.

Her frightened blue eyes are bloodshot and bruised. The rage that lasers through me scares me, but I turn her around to cut the zip tie holding her wrists together with my knife. I rub her wrists before she spins around and throws her arms around me, sobbing uncontrollably. Startled, I wrap my arms around her and try to give her as much comfort as my cold, dead heart can give her. The jacket slips from her shoulders, but Layton holds it up, until she lets me go. We slip her arms into the sleeves, and I zip it up. She is battered and bruised and as fragile as a Fabergé egg.

Declan finds us in the kitchen as Ramsey hands Tiff a small glass of water, his face grim.

When he sees the cage, the darkness falls onto his features, and I gulp.

“More?” I mutter.

“Five more cages, but empty. Only recently by the look of it.”

“The auction,” I state, my tone dark and dead.

He nods.

“We need to go back.”

Wrapping my arm around Tiff’s waist, I say to her, “Will you allow Ramsey to take you to the car?”

She gives him a frightened look, but then nods her head. She is in shock right now, and as much as I want to be the one to help her, I have something else I need to do. It’s clawing at me and if I don’t satiate the desire to kill Vinnie, it’s going to get ugly for everyone.

Checking each cupboard carefully, I find what I need. I place it all on the countertop and set to work. After a few minutes, I’m ready. I pick up my makeshift device and then bend down to reach into the cage. I grab the bowl of dog food. Straightening up, I stride steadily back down the hallway to the front door. Totally focused, I march over to the car where Vinnie is still stuffed in the trunk. Adam is losing his shit with his stepbrother. Vinnie’s shirt gripped in his fist, Adam is smashing him in the face repeatedly, spitting out words that I can’t make out. Taking a deep breath, I walk slowly to the open trunk where he is unfortunately still breathing. I place my device on the ground. Adam steps back, giving me carte blanche over the proceedings now.

“You are the worst piece of shit this garbage world has to offer,” I seethe, hooking my finger into the side of his mouth as I place the bowl next to his head. I scoop up a handful of the dog food and shove it into his mouth, cramming as much of it in there as I can. He chokes and splutters and poor David makes a gagging noise, but I’m not relenting.

“Eat it!” I scream in Vinnie’s face, clapping my hand over his mouth so he can’t spit it out. “Fucking eat it, you sick, twisted cunt!”

My calmness deteriorates rapidly.

“Fucking swallow it.” I pinch his nose between my thumb and forefinger, lifting my palm away from his lips to shovel even more dog food into his mouth. He fights me, struggling, but he is injured and weak and the fight goes out of him quickly. He swallows a mouthful, retching at the taste, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction of throwing it up. He will die with it in his mouth, in his gullet. I yank my Pangolin back out of my boot and quickly slit his throat, letting the blood spray up into my face, relishing in the warmth and stickiness. He gurgles and chokes, writhing around, but it’s over quickly. I remove my hand from his mouth and take a step back. Layton and Declan are silently watching, not interfering, not aiding.

Picking up the Molotov cocktail that I made from things in his own kitchen, I light the fuse made from a tea towel doused in vodka. I watch as it sets alight and then I drop it on top of Vinnie’s dead body.

“Gun,” I say to Adam, holding my hand out.

He slaps it against my palm without question. I fire at the gas tank and walk away, knowing this car with Vinnie inside it will go up like a bonfire on November 5th and I revel in the irony that I warned him.

“Take me back to Faulkner’s,” I say to Adam and climb into the Hummer, not able to be near my own men right now. Tiff is in the back, her knees drawn up, staring out of the window blankly. “Vinnie has women there that he plans to traffick. We have to get to them before they’re bought by some sick fuck, and we never see them again.”

“On it,” he says and fires out of the driveway, breaking speed limits to take us back to the auction and hopefully the women we can save before it’s too late.

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