Page 114 of Poisoned Pawn

“Roxanne, I’ll be back in twenty.” I end the call before giving her a chance to bend my fucking ear about where I am.

Lennox and Sloane are still deep in a whispered conversation as I step in front of Frankie.

“Let’s go. I need to stop off in the basement first, then I need to get back to the church,” I tell Frankie as he lifts his eyes to me. His usual bright eyes are dulled with pain and full of emotion.

“I’m coming with you,” Sloane calls behind me.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” I reply, turning to face her. “I don’t know you or trust you, but aside from that, I’m not so sure you want to be in a house with Star’s family.” My warning is clear.

“Sloane, that’s not a good idea,” Lennox adds agreeing with me, but I get the feeling it’s not for the same reason.

She waves off his concern. “I can help. He’s been looking for me for the last two years, and I…”

“Sloane,” Lennox warns.

“You what?” I snap, stepping toward her and looking her up and down. She looks healthy, well dressed, not like someone who has been on the run for years. “You’ve been missing for almost a decade, and you’re the mother of not one but two sons who have hurt someone they love. What could you possibly do to help?”

“I think this is a conversation best left for later. The meet is in a couple of hours, and if you want me at the warehouse, then I need to go now.”

“Fine. But I’m still going with Carter and Frankie,” Sloane states firmly holding my stare like I didn’t just make myself clear on the subject.

I’m about to refuse for the second time when Frankie says, “I think that’s a great fucking idea. You can explain to me why my wife vanished on our wedding night.”

“Seems to be her MO,” I mock, waving a hand in the air. “I have something I need to take care of before we leave. I’ll meet you in the car park in ten minutes.”

I stride from the room and head for the basement. The Shadow on the door to Shane’s cell gives me a nod and opens it.

My olfactory senses are assaulted by the strong coppery scent of blood and ammonia, and I’m greeted by a sight that feeds some of the fury still churning in my veins.

Shane is strung up and stretched out like Jesus on the cross. There’s no crown of thorns or nails hammered through his hands, though it’s an image that could easily be a reality. Instead, metal cuffs on chain links attached to carabiners hold his arms out like a star while his ankles are shackled to a spreader bar more synonymous with a BDSM dungeon. That thought has my cock hardening as I picture Star positioned like her name, desperate and begging.

It fans the flames of my own desperation to get her back. And I fucking will.

I take in his naked torso smeared with bloody slashes, but it’s the torn flesh on his left pec where his Shadow Guard tattoo used to be that catches my attention. My own tattoo in the same spot tingles at the sight.

It reminds me of a scene fromSons of Anarchyonly without the charred smell of burnt flesh. Shane raises his head as my footsteps echo over the concrete floor, showing me his battered face.

Before I came down here, I had contemplated all the ways I could torture this son of a bitch, but as I look at him now, I don’t want to.

All I want is to end him then go get my fucking woman. The more time I waste here with this cocksucker means more time Star has to endure whatever Rook is doing to her—a shudder runs through me at the thought—and the less time I have to plan all the ways I’m going to punish Rook.

“I ain’t telling you fuck all, Carter. Do your fucking worst!” he goads me, and for a man in his position, I have to respect his loyalty.

“Good job I didn’t come here for information then. I got all I need from your phone. Oh, and Rook seemed pleased to know that you and your little cunt friend succeeded in taking out Lennox.”

His eyes widen as he realises this is the end of the line for him. I pull my gun and point it at him, walking forward until the barrel presses against his forehead.

“Any last words, Shane?”

“Fuck—”

I pull the trigger before he can finish, blood spraying the wall behind him in a beautiful arc and dotting my face.

His death soothes just one of a thousand dark desires tugging at me. I take a picture of him with Shane’s phone certain it will come in handy later, then leave to meet up with Frankie in the car park.

When I arrive, I’m not surprised to find Sloane there with him, but him caging her in against the side of my car, his hips angled just right, is a little bit of a surprise.

“You can fuck and make up later,” I say opening the car and dropping into the driver’s seat. A minute later, Frankie joins me in the front as Sloane climbs into the back. “It’s your funeral,” I mumble as I start the engine and speed out of the car park.

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