Chapter 52 Declan
Declan
“Are we certain she’s here?” Ronan hunched over in the backseat, his tall frame rigid with tension as our SUV bumped over the pot-holed track.
“Why now? Why would he risk being picked up by the police? He’s stayed off the radar for weeks.”
Sadly, the influence of his mother wasn’t enough to keep him out of trouble. He’d grown up into a carbon-copy of his older half-brother and was busy building a trafficking network that forced women into performing in fucked-up web-cam shows.
The guy needed taking out, and soon.
I should have done it at the club, but the fucker had nine fucking lives. And besides, getting Verity away had been my priority.
“It’s pure luck Milo found di Luca,” I said.
A camera in a gas station had picked him up this morning on a back road.
The only property out there was an abandoned farmhouse surrounded by forest. Property records say it was owned by a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands with links to one Avram Marku.
“Any idea what we’re facing?” Conal asked, the tension rolling off him. I glanced sideways.
“Does it matter?”
He shook his head. “No. I just want our girl back.” And there it was again. That phrase: our girl.
Forcing my guilt down, I focused on the track ahead. Verity might be their girl, but she could never be mine. I blamed myself for losing her today. I should have known her father was out here, lurking in the shadows like a motherfucking cockroach.
Seeing Marku at the club was a huge red flag, but instead of watching her like a hawk the moment we left the safety of the hotel, I’d taken my eye off the ball.
Thea blamed me for this shit show. I knew she’d have a few things to say to my face when I deposited Verity on US soil. None of them would be complimentary.
If my brothers wanted to pursue a relationship with Verity, that was their decision, but whether they liked it or not, we were leaving her in the US, where she’d be safe.
“How far?” Ronan asked while checking his gun for the millionth time. He’d been mostly quiet since we set off, but I knew my brother well enough to recognize when he was close to losing his shit.
“Another mile.”
“There could be cameras monitoring this road,” Conal pointed out, scanning the trees ahead.
“We have enough weapons to take down a small army.” Ronan cracked his knuckles. “It’s been a while since we let loose.”
I’d called in some favors and collected a fuck-ton of guns and ammo from a local guy before we set off on this rescue mission. While I’d come armed from Ireland, a couple of handguns would not be enough if we met serious resistance while rescuing Verity.
“Verity is our priority,” I reminded him. “We find her and then we get out. If di Luca dies in the process, then fine, but do not take any chances with her safety.”
“They all die,” Ronan muttered darkly. “Anyone who touched my Pixie girl dies.”
“Yep,” Conal agreed.
The sound of gunfire echoed through the trees as I swung the SUV around a bend in the track, narrowly avoiding a pothole. It was times like this when I missed my Defender 4X4. The SUV had the height, but the suspension wasn’t coping so well with the rough terrain.
“Looks like we have company,” Ash observed as a small figure shot out of the trees ahead.
The SUV's headlights snagged on a familiar pair of joggers, long dark hair, and ashen cheeks as Verity slipped and fell forward into our path. I heard one of my brothers yell a panicked warning.
Time slowed down.
The car’s tires lost traction in the sticky mud, causing the vehicle to slide. Verity scrambled to get out of my way, but I saw the defeat in her eyes when she realized it was too late.
I wrenched the steering wheel hard, ignoring the yelling in my ear.
Miraculously, right at the last second, the tires caught on a rock and we swerved sideways, missing our girl by mere millimeters. She was the last thing I saw before the SUV slammed into a tree.