Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Julian
One thing about living on an island was that it made you easy to trap. When word got out about Wynn, I had everyone and everything at my disposal to find him. Ridgeway wasn’t powerful, he didn’t have the resources he thought he did, and he most certainly wasn’t smart.
The castle was buzzing with people and Francis, who’d been torn a new one for getting distracted while watching Wynn, was doing everything in his power to make it right. There were only so many places to hide on an island. If Ridgeway had gotten a flight out, that would have been a huge problem.
It had been almost two hours since I’d heard Wynn was kidnapped, making it three hours since he’d been with Ridgeway. I was sure we had to be close, and that was validated as soon as one of the tech guys shouted, “Got him.”
“Where?” I rushed over to where he was stationed.
“A call came in from a woman saying she thought something weird was going on next door. She said she saw a man there yesterday covering windows and then while she was walking her dog, she swore she saw the same man carrying someone inside. She’d called the police, who then connected us with it.”
“And you’re sure it’s him?” I asked, watching as he clicked away at his keyboard.
“Positive. There are street cameras and if I go to the one nearest to the address, I see this taken two hours ago.”
I watched as a man, dressed just like he was at the airport, carried in Wynn. I recognized Wynn because he was wearing a ridiculous bright-yellow polo shirt. I was positive Ridgeway was an idiot and didn’t know who he was messing with.
“I want teams in there.” I stood to leave.
“Your Highness, where are you going?” Edward stopped me.
“Wynn is in that house; nothing is stopping me from going in there to get him.”
“Son, you can’t.” My mother intervened.
“Like hell I can’t.”
I grabbed Edward by the arm and dragged him out of the room. Once we were alone, I spoke quickly, leaving no room for argument.
“Ridgeway is mine. I’m going. Your team get Wynn out of there. But Ridgeway is mine.”
“I can deliver him to you, sir.”
“I won’t go inside, I’ll be parked in an SUV. You bring him to me. Your job is to get him there and make sure Wynn is okay.”
“Wynn will want to see you the moment he’s free.”
“And he will. This needs to be over before I can look in Wynn’s eyes again. It’s my job to keep him safe and unharmed, and I’ve failed. Now, we’re wasting time talking about this. Get your teams and bring him home. Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
My father was not happy when I’d explained I was going. I’d promised the same thing I had to Edward. I only wanted Ridgeway. He was mine to destroy.
“What if you’re seen?”
“I won’t be. You need to start enacting Plan B. Make it so it appears like Ridgeway fled after it was leading to it looking like he killed his cousin. Trying to pin it on a tourist works well.”
“Even if that tourist is your partner?” He lifted a brow.
“Semantics.”
“Sir, we’re ready.” I turned to Edward and nodded.
“Once Wynn gets here, make sure he’s cared for.”
My father dipped his chin. “Of course we will, but it’s you he’ll want to see.”
“And he will.”
I followed Edward and the three teams put together to bring Wynn home. Edward would be with me since I would be driving that SUV, carrying Ridgeway’s body.
My heart and mind were at war as we drove to the house. I wanted to go in there, scoop Wynn up, and get him out of there. But a louder part was screaming at me to make sure Wynn was safe, and the only way to do that was to kill Ridgeway. I had to.
I was sure Wynn would understand. As we drove, I pulled the syringe from my pocket. Edward would bring Ridgeway to the vehicle, and I’d stick him with it and take him to my crematorium. His days were done…and he’d feel every second of his death.
There weren’t any visuals, but I had an earpiece that allowed me to listen in on the operation. Francis was leading the extraction team to get Wynn out. The two other teams were working on securing the house and retrieving Ridgeway.
The moment Francis was with Wynn, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Wynn, it’s me, Francis.”
“Thank God.”
“We’re getting you out of here.”
“Where’s Ridgeway?”
Oh, Ridgeway was about to have a miserable day. Soon he’d have my undivided attention. That was when I heard Wynn had been drugged with midazolam. He was no doubt feeling horrid. Francis was handling it, calling in for flumazenil—which would counteract the drug.
I hated how awful Wynn sounded and I was about to say fuck it and go to him, but the car door opened and a very angry looking Ridgeway was thrown against the seat.
“So glad you could join us.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I stuck him in the neck. His body slumped, and Edward shut the door.
I slid over to the driver’s side and got out of there. While I was sure no one had seen me up until now, my luck wouldn’t last forever.
I drove to the entrance to the underground tunnel that led to my basement with my cremation chamber. As soon as the iron door closed behind my SUV, I knew nothing would stop me now.
I wasn’t careful dragging Ridgeway out of the SUV. I tossed him to the ground, chained his wrists to the wall, and stripped him of his clothes. I then grabbed a chair, pulled it close, and waited for him to wake up.
It didn’t take too long; honestly, I was antsy. Much longer and I’d have grabbed the salts to wake him.
He blinked a few times, his eyes shifting around the room. He took in his naked, chained-up state and was about to scream, but he locked on to my face.
“Morning.”
He sneered. Didn’t respond, just glared and tried to eviscerate me with the hate that filled him.
“I’m not one for talking while doing this. But I needed you to understand what is going to happen.” I got up and walked to the closet. “In here I have many kinds of rope, and we will get to them, believe me. However, we need to do a few things before we get to that.”
“Fuck you.”
I ignored him as he shouted expletives, screamed, and tried to rip the chains from the wall. As soon as he tired himself out, I continued on as if he’d never had a tantrum.
“I could be all, ‘You touched my man so I’m gonna cut off your fingers.’ Or, ‘You spoke to him so I’ll rip your tongue out.’ ” I shrugged. “It feels overdone, you know?”
“You’re fucking sick. The world will find out what you are.”
I smirked. “No, they won’t.” I held up two knives. “Have you ever heard of Lingchi?”
“You’re going to slice me up?”
I grinned. “Good to know you’re not as stupid as I thought you were. What do you know of this form of torture?” When he didn’t answer, I went on. “It began around tenth century CE in China.”
“Is the history lesson the torture part?”
I chuckled but continued. “Many have heard Lingchi translated as slow slicing or death by a thousand cuts. Now, traditionally the victim, or the Chinese prisoners, would be tied to a rude cross and given opium. I’m not going to do either of those.
” I held up a syringe. “This is a paralytic. You’ll feel all the pain but be unable to fight.
This is for my protection, not yours. I don’t want to be inadvertently kicked or spit on. I have someone who is waiting for me.”
He did try to kick me as soon as I got closer, but a swift punch to the face scrambled his brain long enough for me to administer the drug.
“There, it should only take a few moments. Let’s wait, shall we?” I went back to my chair and sat. Soon my beast would be fed, and I’d never leave Wynn’s side again.