Chapter 6
Brody
I sprint through back alleys, trying to keep out of the sun as I escape the construction site.
This is such a shit show. That operation went sideways fast, with both Marko and Jed now dead and the girl on the loose.
What else can go wrong?
Who were those mercenaries? Do they work for Finn? How could Finn possibly already know that I kidnapped his half-sister? I’ve only had her for two damn hours.
He’s on the other side of the country, for Pete’s sake.
Was Trinity speaking the truth when she told me I’d regret abducting her? Did I fall into some kind of elaborate trap?
Fuck it. Doesn’t matter. For now, I’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Those mercenaries put up a hell of a fight, I’ll give them that. But I’ve been in countless scrapes like this, and more often than not, I come out on top.
Handling Trinity does throw a wrench in things, though.
I can’t engage my enemy, watch my six, and babysit the goods all at once. And how exactly do I keep her alive when she seems hell-bent on getting herself shot?
I rake my fingers through my hair in frustration. I’d like to see Connor attempt this shit.
Connor, the prized son who claims all of Declan’s attention and approval but never has to hold his own in the field like this. Our father always gives Connor the logistical tasks. The golden boy does the thinking while I and the rest of the muscle do the dirty work.
Not to say Connor’s weak, just that he doesn’t climb down into the gutter as much.
I jog through a strange mix of residential and commercial properties in Koreatown.
Trinity can’t have gotten far with those zip-tied hands, so I guess her direction and hoof it.
I need to find her, grab her, and secure her someplace impenetrable in case those mercs aren’t planning to take her alive.
How did such a simple mission—snatch the girl and get her to Declan—become this?
A shriek pierces the air, and my blood runs cold.
Trinity.
I whirl in the direction of the noise. Down an alley to my left, I find her cornered by one of the mercenaries. He must be the last man standing.
Without stopping to consider the consequences, I charge. My shoulder jams into the guy milliseconds before he can shoot Trinity straight through the face.
In heavy huffs, we tumble to the ground. Right after I land a single punch, my sparring partner engages his legs and rolls us with the strength of his core into a new fighting position and forcing a grunt out of me.
What is this guy, an MMA fighter?
He uses his whole body to wrestle me into an anaconda choke. Another grunt escapes me as he tightens his hold, my throat straining under the pressure.
The asshole’s strong, his grip powerful enough to constrict my oxygen flow.
In spite of my predicament, I remain calm. Succumbing to fear just gets you dead.
The man squeezes my neck with more force. “Had enough, Superman?”
I cough, black spots blinking into my vision. “Not…quite,” I wheeze.
With every ounce of resistance I possess, I fight to keep my head straight. Meanwhile, dick nozzle here continues attempting to force my skull deeper into the crook of his arm. The prick’s trying to snap my neck.
I manage to stay upright, clawing against his arms until I reach his tucked fingers. Straining from the effort, I wrench them back. Three of his joints dislocate with a definitive snap.
A queasy sort of crackle echoes through the alley, just before the guy releases a strangled, feral cry of pain.
Bingo.
His grip on my neck loosens. Taking advantage of the temporary distraction, I elbow him in the solar plexus, relishing the crunch of bone beneath bone.
Once. Twice. Three times.
He whimpers and retracts his arms altogether, freeing me up to finish the job.
“You like to play head games?” I hook my arm around his throat this time, channeling all my training, ruthlessness, and determination into this outmatched son of a bitch. “Guess what? So do I.”
Yanking his skull to one side, I snap his neck like a twig. The soft crack under my hands provides a familiar, satisfying echo.
When his body slackens, I let him slide from my grasp without protest. As I kneel by the warm corpse, I work to catch my breath.
Time to get to know my new dead friend.
The mercenary’s pockets contain a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, extra ammo, and a high-quality jackknife. I pilfer those last two items. Might as well get some souvenirs.
In another pocket, I find a high-tech walkie talkie with advanced GPS tracking and tons of other bells and whistles. All completely untraceable.
Interesting.
I still don’t know who these men are, but I’m starting to doubt they’re Finn’s. Specially made technology, the uniform…
None of this feels like the Irish Kings to me. Which is bad news. If Finn and his people aren’t behind this, then who is? There must be an uninvited third player in this game. And to keep Trinity and myself alive, I need to figure out how to keep these fucks away from us.
Out of all the missions ever assigned to me, I refuse to fail this one.
Over my dead body.
From a different pocket of the mercenary’s uniform, I retrieve a small photograph of Trinity. A recent one, taken within the past few weeks.
Uneasiness stirs in my gut. These assholes were doing recon on her at the same time I was, and I didn’t even notice. Declan won’t be pleased when I explain, that’s for sure.
Along with the picture, I discover several syringes of propofol and cable ties. Kidnapping supplies. But that doesn’t add up. If he’s supposed to bring Trinity back alive, why did he pull a gun on her and act like he was going to shoot? Was it just a scare tactic?
Or maybe he’s just an idiot.
Shoes shifting on gravel interrupts my concentration, and my gaze jerks in Trinity’s direction. She’s hunched against the graffitied alley wall, retching as she gawks at the body on the ground with wide eyes and a blanched face.
I rub the back of my neck. We don’t have time for her to lose her shit, but I recognize that she’s basically a civilian. As far as I know, she’s never been exposed to anything like this. Probably a lot of carnage for a stuck-up pain-in-the-ass mafia princess.
Though, if that’s the case, I can’t help the swell of admiration. A lot of other women would be catatonic or screaming in the corner. Clearly, Trinity was shaken up when we kidnapped her, and the shooting and killing must be ten times worse. Somehow, despite all that, she’s still functioning.
Maybe I should try to think of her as a more annoying version of my older sister. Part of the world but innocent of the violence.
My eyes trace over Trinity’s body, the act sparking a wave of heat in my veins. Okay, so imagining her as my sister might be a lost cause.
Focus, Brody. Work first. Ogle later.
I shift out of my crouch and get right in front of her, fixating on those emerald green eyes. “Are you hurt?”
That’s not worry for her pinching my chest. If she’s damaged, Declan will be pissed, and if she’s injured, she’ll just slow us down.
Several seconds elapse before my question brings Trinity back to reality. Her eyes flick between the edge of the alley, the body, and me. The lingering shock fades, replaced with a resilience I don’t expect.
“Who are you?” She straightens her back and clenches her hands against her chest. “I want your name.”
“Well, aren’t we demanding? I, too, want lots of things, princess, but we can’t get everything we wish for.”
I pull my newest knife out of my pocket and grab her wrists. She flinches as I hold up her arms and balance the blade against the zip tie. With one good rip, I liberate her hands.
While she rubs her wrists, I return to the body on the ground. “My name is Brody.”
“Well, Brody…” Her voice is breathy. Empty of inflection. “You kidnapped me, killed a bunch of people, and then saved my life. I don’t know what to say.”
“How about ‘thank you’?” I continue to dig around the numerous pockets of the soldier, stopping only when my fingers brush over ice-cold steel.
Handcuffs.
Trinity studies me with a flush in her cheeks that stirs the molten heat in my gut. Now that the rush of battle has dissipated, desire trickles in.
I sigh. No time for that, even if I could convince her. Disappointing, since after-fight sex to release excess adrenaline is some of the most satisfying.
“Do you really deserve thanks when you put me in danger in the first place?” A little smile curls the corner of Trinity’s mouth.
The smile twists into a scowl the moment I open the manacle and cuff her wrist to mine.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The fire’s back in her tone.
“Taking precautions. After everything that’s happened today, I want to make extra sure I don’t lose what’s mine.” I raise a brow and subject her to a head-to-toe inspection, lingering on her chest just to get a rise.
She wraps her free arm around herself and glares. “I am not yours.”
That defiant expression and tone go straight to my dick.
Telling it to stand down, I set my jaw. “You’re right. You belong to Declan now.”
Trinity’s mouth thins, and her nostrils flare. She appears one-wrong word away from punching me. “Who the fuck is that?”
I cock my head, startled by her lack of recognition. “Declan Gallagher.”
I witness the moment the name clicks. Her pretty eyes widen, and her mouth opens in a horrified but cute little “o.” She’s like a sexy cartoon character.
As she swallows, her throat shifts. “You… you’re a…”
“A Port King?” My smug smirk widens. “That’s right, princess. And for the time being, your life is in my hands, so just—”
“No!” She shoves my chest and pivots, bolting for the street.
Guess someone forgot she’s handcuffed.
The force of her sprint yanks me off-balance, compelling me to stumble after her.
Despite her obvious discomfort, she races toward the exit, dragging me a short distance until I plant my feet and jerk her to a stop.
After catching her beneath the arms, I spin her and shove her up against the alley wall.
We’re both panting a little, and I’m pissed all over again.
Her lower lip trembles. “What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?”
“It’s not personal.” I slide my free hand around her handcuffed wrist and squeeze. “But if you don’t stop defying me, it will be very soon.”
She winces but doesn’t back down. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll make your life a living hell.”
A muscle tics in my jaw. “Too damn late—”
“If you’re just going to kill me, why bring me to this place? You could have blown my brains out ten different ways by now.” She chews her bottom lip, then glowers at me. “Tell me what this is really about, or I’ll lay myself down on the ground in protest.”
I almost roll my eyes. “You need a stronger threat than that.”
“You really think you’ll be able to get us out of here with my limp body literally weighing you down?” She arches an eyebrow. “Out there? In broad daylight? In one of the most populous cities on US soil?”
Irritation burns beneath my sternum. The girl graduates from college one time, and she thinks she knows everything. Can’t wait to teach her spoiled ass a thing or two.
No time like the present.
I twist her hair around my hand, eliciting a sharp gasp from her that sparks my excitement. She’s defiant, but she’s also scared. Good.
“You want to lay yourself down right here? Fine.” I smirk and lower my voice to a husky growl. “After I’ve had my fun, I’m sure you’ll be more than ready to leave.”
Her chest heaves, her pulse fluttering at her throat. “You wouldn’t—”
“You have no idea what I would do, Trinity.” I lean in close. “Try to run from me again, and I’ll fuck every last hope of escape right out of you.”