Chapter 29 Duncan
DUNCAN
“Motherfucker. Mother—” I slam my hand on the steering wheel. Press my foot to the gas, letting the SUV eat the road whole. “Fucker.”
My pulse matches the car’s speed. My teeth grind hard, nearly cracking.
Somehow, I manage not to lose my shit. To focus on the highway in front of me.
All so I can get to the Montgomery home, where I assume she’ll be.
Elowyn.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
It’s been over ten years since fire—red, hot, and traitorous—took almost everything from me. I thought I got over it. That I made peace with my parents’ deaths. That I moved on.
Wrong.
A decade ago, the cops showed up at my door to tell me my parents had died in a fire. Getting a call like that from Herbert ten years later nearly crushed me.
But it wasn’t a surprise. Not really. I knew something was wrong the moment I entered the warehouse where my meeting had been scheduled.
The unlocked door. The dark, stale, and empty place.
My woman needs me, my gut told me, and I listened to it.
Just as I stormed out the door, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
“Mr. Rourke, there’s been a fire.” Herbert coughed. “Sorry. At the mansion.”
“Elowyn.” My blood went cold, and I ran faster than I ever had to my SUV. “Is she okay?”
“I…” He trailed off, and I could’ve died.
“Spit it out.” I got in the SUV and backed out of my parking spot. “Where. Is. She?”
“Barclay and two of his friends grabbed Miss Montgomery after they gagged and chained us to the gates. The police and the fire department are here. Mary and Varn are safe.”
I loved them. Truly.
Without Elowyn, however, my life was meaningless.
“Where did he take her?” I growled, blowing through a red light.
“I…”
“Where?”
“Mary and I were also blindfolded the whole time. We wouldn’t even know they took Miss Montgomery if not for her screams. We never saw the license plate or even the car. His nurses said he just went out with friends, that they didn’t see what car they drove. I’m so sorry.”
In other words, the police had no clue where to look for her. Of course not. Barclay was anything but stupid. He must have switched vehicles by then.
I cursed, then I cursed some more.
All while speeding toward the old Montgomery home.
Car lights smear into streaks when I blow past slower drivers. A semi blasts its horn when I cut around it. I barely register the sound.
The only thing I’m aware of is the fear for Elowyn’s life. It clutches at my soul, clawing and tearing at my insides.
“Stop it. She’s fine. She’s going to be fine,” I tell the empty car. “I’m getting her back.”
Faded road signs for towns I don’t care about blur past as I keep driving like a madman.
In less than thirty minutes, I’ll be at her old home. She’ll be in my arms then, where she belongs.
When I save her.
And the other three?
My SIG will take care of these motherfuckers. It’s right here in my glove compartment, loaded and waiting. I never meant to use it on anyone; I just had it there for protection.
Today, it’ll make me a murderer again when I empty every bullet I have on Elowyn’s kidnappers.
My phone vibrates in the cup holder. A blocked number flashes on my car’s screen.
Cursing under my breath, I accept the call.
“How’d you like your new fireplace, bestie?”
Barclay.
This fucker. He’d been more than my best friend. He’d been my brother. Raw and crazy, sure, but my brother.
While everyone at school had believed their money meant they were better than me, Barclay hadn’t.
I thought he was different.
Now I see it clearly. He’s nothing more than a condescending psychopath.
A soon-to-be dead psychopath.
“Where is she?” I clear the desperation and urgency from my tone. Barclay will smell my fear like a shark. “Where’s Elowyn?”
“You mean, where my sister is? The one you turned into your whore?”
More like I saved her from being used and abused by her brother.
More like I gave her the life she always deserved.
“She’s with you?” I ask.
As soon as the question leaves my mouth, my lungs squeeze. I don’t hear Elowyn. No scream, no garbled sounds of her talking through a gag.
Silence.
That sonofabitch might’ve let one of his friends handle her.
“Barclay,” I bark when he won’t answer. “I asked you a question.”
He cackles. “Calm the fuck down. I got your Juliet, Romeo.” His disdain bleeds through the speakers. “Vic.”
Victor MacQuoid. Jayden’s cousin. The bastard who had blown my cover. Who risked Elowyn’s life. Both of them are in on it, then. Motherfuckers.
At least now I know who I’m up against.
“Let him hear the bitch,” Barclay orders.
“Don’t you call her—”
“Duncan. Duncan.”
That voice. Her.
“I’m here, baby.” Six exits are all that’s left to get to Cobbledale. Just six more. “I’m right here. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“Don’t come. Please, don’t—”
Someone snaps their fingers, and she’s silenced.
“Elowyn!” I roar.
That fear again. Fuck. Fuck.
Black dots swim at the edges of my vision as panic threatens to swallow me whole.
Can’t have that. Got to focus. Got to keep driving if I want to save the love of my life. My goddamn soulmate.
“Talking time’s over,” Barclay says, sounding pleased.
“The hell it is.”
“Uh, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m the one running the show, bestie. Not you. Not ever again.”
Killing my parents’ murderer was a necessity.
Watching Barclay take his last breath will be a fucking pleasure.
“What do you want?” I’m barely done asking when lightning splits the sky.
The last thing I need is for it to start raining on my drive there. I can’t afford to slow down. Can’t.
Thunder follows, then light rain patters on the windshield. Fuck.
“I’m texting you an address.”
My phone vibrates. A click on my center display and it lights up with a text from an unknown number.
“Got it.” I punch in the address, dividing my attention between the road ahead and the phone. “On my way.”
“You have your driver’s license on you?”
“Yeah.” At the strange question, I scowl. “Why?”
“Because you and I are going on a little road trip.”
“Not without Elowyn.” The moment I spit it out, I have to bite back a laugh.
As if that matters.
The only place Barclay is going is to an early grave.
“Jesus fucking Christ, I had no idea you were so clingy, man.” He laughs. Just him.
The other two’s silence is suspicious as fuck. I’ll worry about it later.
“A trip where?” Needing to hear what’s going on in that room, I keep him on the line.
“To whoever handles your money. Your bank manager, advisor, I don’t give a fuck.
” He groans in pain. Has probably aggravated his wound.
Good. “We’re gonna walk in there together.
You’ll tell them to move every last one of the lowlife’s dollars into my account.
Consider it going back to someone who actually deserves it. ”
He sounds entitled, and yet I don’t miss the desperation leaking into every word.
Ten years ago, I would’ve felt sorry for him.
Unfortunately for Barclay, we’re way past that.
Way, way past that.
A vicious smirk tugs at my lips.
“Anything for Elowyn.” Not a lie.
I’ll do anything for my woman.
Starting by firing my SIG.
By killing the people who thought they could hurt her and get away with it.