Chapter 24 Marlowe #2
“I trusted you, asshole,” I hiss.
“I know. That was the point. If you trusted me, you’d freely give over any information you had.”
My stomach roils.
“But then your husband barreled in and ruined everything.” Leon’s voice rises and he kicks a nearby chair across the room. “That fucking Murphy. He was there in Queens that night at the truck graveyard. Fucking interfering with my business.”
The truckyard. I remember the text from Leon with that address. He was supposed to meet me there to meet with a guy who might have information on Daddy’s whereabouts. I’d been so hopeful going there that night.
Memories pop between my temples like bullets. Like the gunfire that erupted there, trapping me with Declan.
Declan…
Tears sting my eyes.
“I set that whole thing up. You may as well know the truth now,” Leon says.
“I gave the Cinco Cartel your location. They were supposed to grab you and then use you to draw your father out. A simple exchange. But Murphy showed up on some unrelated bullshit and decided to play hero. Fucked everything up.”
My heart swells. Declan saved me. Without a thought. He put himself in the line of fire to get me out of there safely.
“He ruined my plan.” Leon’s pacing gets faster, more erratic.
“Then he killed my fucking stalker, the guy I was using to keep you scared enough to not suspect me in any of the shit happening to you. He was a great goddamn scapegoat before Murphy iced him. Shot him dead in that park without knowing who he even was.”
All those nights I couldn’t sleep because of the nightmares haunting me. The fear that lived in my chest since the first sick and twisted “gift” arrived.
Leon manufactured that. And Declan destroyed it to protect me. Always to protect me.
“You son of a bitch,” I growl, wrenching my body in an attempt to kick him. But my limbs are still like Jell-O.
“Yeah, Marlowe,” he bites out. “I am. So now you know. But you deserve everything coming to you because you fucking married him. You married a Murphy. Do you have any idea what that did to my plans?”
“You’re a selfish asshole. Did you ever think of what your psychotic plans did to my fucking life?” I yell, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to push out those words.
He turns a fierce glare on me, ignoring my outburst. “Your father ran. Disappeared. I couldn’t find him. Cinco gave me a deadline.” He’s almost shouting now. “And there I was, holding no leverage at all, watching you play house with Irish mafia royalty while my clock ran out.”
“So this is revenge.”
“This is survival. My survival.” He steps closer, and I force myself not to flinch. “A Murphy is worth more than a dozen Briggses. If I deliver Declan Murphy, heir, beloved baby brother, I don’t just clear my debt. I become valuable.”
My heart drops. “You’re…you’re going to hand him over to the cartel?”
Leon’s lips curl into a sadistic smirk. “Both of you, if I’m lucky.
There’s still hope that your asshole father will come out with his dick between his legs if he knows you’re in danger.
No guarantee since he hasn’t done a thing to show his fucking face yet.
” He grabs my chin, forces my eyes to his.
“But first, I need to get Murphy here. And you’re going to make sure he shows up. ”
I jerk away. “He’ll kill you. The second he walks through that door.”
“Maybe.” Leon holds up the phone. “But he’ll come. That’s who he is, a man who can’t walk away from a fight, especially one involving his wife.”
He taps on the screen. The whoosh of a message being sent follows.
“There. Text sent. Now we wait.”
My heart pounds. Declan is coming. Running into a trap. Because of me.
“Now, don’t do anything stupid,” Leon says. “I don’t want to have to hurt you before he gets here. But I will, Marlowe,” he says, his voice rough. “Because I won’t go down for you or your fucking father.”
He stalks away, disappearing through a door on the far side of the warehouse.
Silence remains. Just the buzz of lights and the drip of water somewhere.
Frenzied thoughts loop through my mind. I need to warn Declan. But how? I’m powerless to do a damn thing in this position. My pulse throbs, blood crashing between my ears.
I test the zip ties again. They don’t give.
Dammit, Leon completely played me. He used me, manipulated me, pretended to be my friend. I fucking defended him to Declan over and over again, never seeing the true slimeball behind the bullshit facade.
A frustrated cry escapes my lips. I’m not the same woman who walked into that truck graveyard. I’m not the na?ve ballerina who trusted a man because he said the right things at donor events. I’m not the girl who let fear make her choices.
Not anymore.
I’m Marlowe fucking Briggs. And as far as the rest of the world thinks, I married into the Murphy mafia. Nobody knows it’s a sham.
I scan the room with clearer eyes, taking stock of everything in my surroundings. The metal chair bolted to the floor. The pallets in corners. The exposed pipes overhead. The door Leon left through.
There’s a broken edge on one of the bolts holding the chair down. Rusted. Sharp.
It’s not much. But at least, it’s something.
I inch toward the chair, ignoring the pain tearing through my shoulders, the raw burn of plastic against my wrists. Even the slightest movement sends pain shooting through me, but I don’t stop.
Declan is coming.
Leon thinks I’m helpless. He thinks I’ll sit here and wait to be rescued, or traded, or killed.
He’s wrong.
I pant, finally getting to the chair. Scooting close to the bolt, I move the zip tie back and forth against it. It’s slow. Agonizing. The metal bites into my skin and I feel blood running down my fingers.
But I don’t stop. I can’t.
Because when Declan walks through that door, I’m not going to be a liability.
I’m going to be ready to fight right beside him.
Whatever it takes.