24. Helen #3
Douglas heaved a great sigh. “Of course he was. William Graham trained him to be the perfect killer. The best anyone has seen in at least two generations. I’ll give him that much.
Yes, I was running out of funding before I could even enact my revenge.
First the Grahams, since they were directly responsible for killing my father.
But then the Rossi family only because Julian was so fucking annoying growing up, teasing me relentlessly.
And then you and your family. The Montgomerys were ruthless and evil, you included?—”
“Thank you.”
“—then,” Douglas faltered and glowered at me. I smiled back, showing off the blood between my teeth. “Then the Chuns and Santiagos. Wiping them all off the board would make the world a better place.”
I openly rolled my eyes. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to slap me again.
“Right, you take those families off the board and then what? Suddenly there’s peace and love and sunshine?
Rainbows coming out of everyone’s asses?
All you would have done would be destabilizing established crime syndicates and making room for others to emerge and take their place.
The criminal underbelly of the world is like a hydra.
Cut off one head and two more grow back to replace it. ”
“Not if I installed myself as the head.”
And there it was. Douglas was just as hypocritical as I suspected.
“I’d bring order and justice to a new empire…” And then he went back to monologuing. Odd speech, really. I felt like I’d heard something similar in a movie about space and laser swords.
My second hand fell from the ropes. From there, all I had to do was locate the knot holding my chest in place. Which was much easier with both hands freed. Douglas blabbering about his insane plans for criminal domination and retribution allowed me to untie myself right under his nose.
The need to escape, to flee to freedom, seized hold of me. It was a prey animal response, the flight instinct seeping into my adrenaline and propelling me off that horrid metal chair.
Catching Douglas unaware, I flung myself upright and swung a right hook into his chin. He groaned, grabbing his face as he slammed into the window wall. As he slid down to the floor, hand cupping the fresh gush of blood from his nose, I ran for the cracked open door.
A lightness filled my chest as I wrenched the door open and flew down the rickety metal stairs. I greedily swallowed a lungful of air, vibrating from the hysterical energy coursing through my blood.
“Get her!” Douglas hollered from the door overhead.
Dozens of masked men swarming the warehouse stopped in their tracks.
My short-lived victory crashed around me.
They caught me again as a storm of thrashing limbs, kicking and punching as they wrestled me to the hard concrete flooring.
A few satisfying blows weren’t enough to free me from the overwhelming numbers.
Despite the tissue pressed to his nose, Douglas smirked wickedly down at me as his brutes plopped me back into the chair. My icy glare remained locked on him as they tied me to the cool metal. Learning from the first time, they roughly tied up my ankles and used a second rope for my wrists.
“Well, that was exciting. Do you feel good about that?” he mocked.
“Do you feel pretty with that bloody nose?” I snipped back.
Douglas jerked forward, and with the distraught energy coursing through my blood, I flinched back. He halted inches away, as if thinking better of hitting me again. My heart drummed so loud I wondered if he heard it, if he thought he was better than me because of it.
“Keep your smart mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” he warned.
“What are you going to do with me?” I finally asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
A dozen sarcastic comments met the back of my teeth as I clenched my jaw. Instead, I huffed. “He’ll come for me, you know. Drake will come for me.”
That seemed to delight Douglas. A malicious smile tugged at his lips and his eyes glinted. “Oh, will he?” He purred savagely. “Didn’t he leave you behind once before? Drake left you when it served his better interest. Who’s to say it’s not the better choice for The Dragon to leave you behind now?”
The guilt of believing him hurt almost as much as the lingering pain radiating through my body. Part of me was ashamed for considering it. I didn’t want to give credit to the doubt Douglas planted in my mind. Yet as he left me alone in that office, my confidence faltered.
Drake never said he loved me. The pain of his abandonment a decade ago swept in under the guise of my current aches and pains, throbbing in my heart in time with my pulsing injuries. Ruinous uncertainty twisted through my intestines, as sharp and jagged as a serrated blade.
I viewed the hot tears spilling over my cheeks as another mistake. A weakness in the face of my own wavering confidences. Trapped, alone, vulnerable, and now skeptical about my own feelings.
What if… what if he was right?
What if Drake didn’t come for me?