Page 16 of Deadly Seduction

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Callen,” he snarls. My smile diminishes. Yep, I’ve pushed my luck. We both know it. “This isn’t a game. The next time you pull a trick like this or touch a single hair on Rose’s head, you’re out of the Dukes. Do you understand me?”

He grabs my balls in an iron fist, making my cock wilt faster than a deflated balloon. I whimper as he squeezes tightly, so tight I’m worried he’s about to rip them from my body and turn them into bagpipes.

“Do you understand?” he sneers. Frederick James acts like a civilised gentleman, but he’s not. Far fucking from it.

“Yes,” I gasp in a squeaky voice like a teenage boy. “I understand.”

“Good,” he says, still holding on. “Because if you do anything to hurt her—and I mean anything—it’s not the Killers Club who’ll hunt you down, it’ll be me.”

“Okay, okay!” I whimper. “You’ve made your fucking point!”

“That’s what I thought,” Freddie says. “Consider this your final warning.”

He lets go, and I exhale in relief, cupping my balls to check they’re still there. It’s a shame we don’t have any ice. Let’s hope Seb emptied his in Rose because they're on borrowed time, judging by Freddie’s reaction.

I’m launched backwards as Freddie hits the accelerator. We continue following the coordinates to the last place the bullet put out a signal. The road is deserted as we pull up outside the gates of an old cemetery. From the look of the place, I’m not expecting the Killers Club to still be here, but we might find clues.

“If you’re going to cause any more trouble, you can wait in the car,” Freddie threatens.

“I promise that I’ll be on my best behaviour,” I swear, struggling against the urge to reassure him that his cock is probably bigger than Seb’s.

“Good,” he replies. “If you don’t, we’re in the perfect spot to dispose of a body.”

“Understood,” I grumble. “I’ll get the gate.”

The gothic iron gate is bound shut with chains, but that won’t keep us out. I hop from the car to grab supplies from the boot and cut through the chains while Freddie stays in the warmth.

When I’m done, Freddie steps out and puts on a pair of gloves. I limp after him, struggling to keep up with his rapid pace as we enter and follow what remains of a path. We’re both carrying enough weapons to deal with any situation we might stumble upon, but Freddie’s mind is elsewhere. He’ll be thinking about Seb’s weapon and how it’s screwing his girl.

“Spooky, huh?” I comment. “Maybe they buried the body here?”

Mist hangs between the centuries-old crumbling gravestones. It’s a site where the Victorians dumped plague victims’ bodies in pits. It’s unkempt with overgrown weeds and littered with discarded bottles and needles from users who’ve snuck in. Most would think it’s completely abandoned, if not for the smoke coming from a small building on the perimeter. The crematorium.

Bingo. That’s where our bullet will be. Let’s hope Bram’s body hasn’t been incinerated alongside it.

“Ready?” Freddie asks as we approach. He draws his gun and holds it in front of him to lead the way.

“Let’s do this,” I say, following behind as we surround the door. I check over my shoulder. There’s no one else around, only eerie silence and the sense of being watched by hundreds of ghosts.

“Get behind me,” Freddie orders.

I roll my eyes. Despite his earlier threats, he takes his role as a leader and protector seriously. He pushes the door to the crematorium ajar. No voices come from inside, although I wouldn’t expect to hear anything if we’re heading into a surprise ambush.

The door creaks open further. Freddie’s gun barrel enters first, and he follows. It’s dark inside, and he grapples to find a light switch on the wall. When it flickers to life, we see the pool of red covering the floor.

“I shouldn’t have worn my new shoes,” I joke.

Aside from the glow of the burning furnace that’s turning a body to ash, there’s no movement. Two other bodies lay on the floor, suspended in a state of shock with glassy eyes. Their mouths are frozen in a permanent scream. They were not expecting to have their brains blown out by two bullets. This was an execution.

“We’re too late,” Freddie says. Whoever came here wanted to get rid of any witnesses. “Another dead end.”

“We’ll find them, boss,” I say. “They can’t stay hidden forever.”

No one can evade us for long.

CHAPTER9

BRAM

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