CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Raina
I manage to dodge the world for a few days until Ruby knocks on my door like it’s her turn to do a wellness check on me.
“Hey, it’s laundry day, right?” She stands there holding what looks like thongs and lace bras covered in glitter and male sweat. She won’t put them in her father’s hamper, so she slips them into my wash loads.
After checking the hall for either Valdrin or Connor to pounce on me, I let her inside. “Sure. Let me get my basket.”
In my bedroom, I pick up dirty clothes off the floor. The hamper is buried somewhere, I don’t know. I scoop up everything and shove it into the basket.
Ruby reminding me it’s laundry day means it’s Wednesday.
I’ve also not heard from Connor in a few days.
Bastard is waiting me out.
Making me crawl to his side of this fight. Only, he doesn’t know who he’s fighting, and I don’t know if I can trust him.
My next move needs to be on my terms. And not tied down on a table in his chamber, being rammed in the ass or fucked against a brick wall in broad daylight. Although both were hot as fuck.
And I crave more of it.
Back in the kitchen, Ruby is eating one of my donuts, trying to cover up the sugar granules spilled onto my countertop. Her father hoards food from her and tracks her calories. He wants to keep her fit for better tips at the club. Money she’s forced to give him, like he’s a fucking pimp.
I give her a minute to finish eating while I check my purse for quarters. My phone buzzes, and I yank it from my pocket, hoping that it’s Connor. I exhale when I see Valdrin’s number flash across the screen.
“Yeah. Hi. Listen. We need to talk, I—”
“The Quinlans have one of our men.” Valdrin’s sharp, urgent voice cuts me off.
“Who?” I ask, hoping it’s Noel.
“One of the few leaders who is nearly as important as our kyre .”
A storm brews in my chest from the strain and stress in Valdrin’s voice. Whoever Connor ensnared is important.
“Where do they have him?” I ask.
“In that damn tunnel,” he bites out like it’s my fault since Connor is still breathing. “Guards have the entrance surrounded.”
“What do you want me to do if the tunnel is surrounded?” I stagger into a chair.
Ruby is watching me. “Raina, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head, not wanting Valdrin to hear her.
“Connor already killed your father,” he says low.
“And he won’t stop until he’s ripped the spine out of the entire command.
You’re the only person who’s found a way to get close to him.
Do your duty to the brotherhood. If you don’t take out Connor now and show that we know the meaning of retaliation, he and his brothers will think we are weak.
They will wipe out your family one by one. That will eventually include you .”
The line goes dead.
Shaking, I turn around to stare at the laundry basket resting on Ruby’s hip.
The entrance is surrounded.. .
Valdrin means the street entrance where he dropped me off. He doesn’t know Connor’s apartment is on the opposite end, or his men would have stormed the tunnel from that location. Unless that’s guarded, too.
The Quinlans want a war. They want a bloodbath. Once again, I’m cornered.
Frozen, I don’t know who to fight for. Whose side am I on?
I have to be on my side. If I get there in time, I may be able to leverage this abduction and renegotiate with Noel. Maybe I can get Connor to let the guy go. Waltz Mr. Important into York Towers and make demands of Noel to give me my rightful inheritance, and he can keep his ring.
I stare at Ruby again. “I have to go, Ru.” I hand her a bunch of dollar bills to get change. “Why don’t you go to the laundromat around the corner? Get some fresh air and something healthy to eat.”
“Where are you going?” she asks, taking the cash.
“I have...a situation to handle.” I head to my hall closet to grab my gear.
“With Valdrin? Is he in danger?” Her concern for him stops me in my tracks.
“No. He’s not. But it’ll all be okay.” I hug her, loving her fresh powdery scent.
She breaks the hold, and smiling weakly, she leaves with the laundry basket. When my apartment door clicks shut, I start loading my Sig.
AS VALDRIN SAID, THE street-side entrance to the torture tunnel is guarded. I ask the taxi driver to drop me off around the corner. I break into the locked private alley I used last time when I crawled through Connor’s window.
Stepping into his apartment is like walking through an old friend’s house. The door to the tunnel from the apartment passageway is suspiciously unlocked. This may be a trap, but I don’t know what choice I have other than to storm Connor’s death chamber.
As I get close, the horrible smell of male sweat and blood in the damp air sets me back. The door to the chamber’s inner sanctum is unlocked as well. Whoever is in there is bait.
For who, though? Me?
Oh, Christ. And I fell for it. But Connor won’t hurt me. His men? I’m not sure. I have to see this through.
Connor has the torture chamber dark tonight, and that works in my favor to keep to the shadows.
He’s got music blaring, and he’s yelling at the dark-haired Albanian.
A man no one told me about until today. A man who means nothing to me, but according to Valdrin, I should care.
This man is powerful and part of my family .
Why do they feel so disconnected?
Connor has the guy tied to a chair. Coarse ropes bite into his wrists. They’re raw and bleeding. That’s nothing compared to his face. He’s a mess of swollen eyes, bruised cheeks, split lips, and blood leaking from a broken nose.
Someone shifts a few feet away, and I snap my gun in that direction with shaking hands. Rhys watches from the corner, a phantom at Connor’s back.
Fuck .
Whatever I plan to do here just got a lot more complicated. If I shoot Connor, that assassin will take me out.
I exhale slowly. I hadn’t come to terms with killing Connor, and I can’t wrap my head around killing his cousin, either. But what if I have no choice? What if it’s me or them ?
Poor Fallon . And the plants.
Christ, I’m losing it. It’s not like Rhys has a puppy at home waiting for him.
Shouting knocks me from my thoughts.
“Connor, watch out!” Rhys’s rough Irish accent barks above all other sounds.
Snapping to attention, I see the Albanian has broken free. The damn chair is splintered. God, how strong is that guy?
It happens in a matter of seconds.
Knowing Rhys is an armed, lethal threat, the Albanian tackles him first, driving a fist into his jaw. Rhys crumples from the surprise hit. The Albanian overturns the marble slab that breaks into three pieces and uses one to hurt Rhys enough to keep the assassin on the ground.
Then he grabs Rhys’s gun and turns the barrel on Connor.
Oh no!
For the first time since I met him, Connor looks unsure of what to do. And terrified as he backs up to that small kitchen nook with his Glock on the counter.
I have no time to think. I have one chance at this.
I break free from the shadows, raising my Sig.
“Forgive me,” I mutter as I pull the trigger.