CHAPTER 44
Declan fucking Byrne.
I’ve put this job on hold for months, but I can’t ignore it any longer. The bastard is moving fast, and someone has to stop him. It’s best to nip the problem in the bud.
I stop the car outside his property—one of the many he owns. My men sit in the cars behind me, waiting for my signal.
It’s do or die. I hate putting them in this position; I need a few minutes to silence the guilt over whatever may happen to them.
My father warned me about losing my mind during a rescue.
He always wore a poker face, even when his partners died.
He never lost his temper. Me? I may look calm on the outside, but inside there’s a war between what I know I should do and what I want to do—not to mention the weight of every life under my command.
If I let my guard down for a second, if I start to care, I’m dead. That cost my father his life. I won’t make the same mistake.
I take the photos from my vest pocket. I kiss Lana’s photo and press the one of Mom and Dad to my chest.
It’s going to be all right. I’ll come back home.
“I want my mommy… please…”
Her crying breaks my heart. I hadn’t planned for them to have so many girls in this place. She can barely stand. She’s way too thin.
“I’ll take you home,” I whisper. “You’ll be all right. Everything will be all right.”
It doesn’t matter what I say; she keeps crying. I take off my bulletproof vest after I remove the photos and slip it over her shoulders before wrapping her in a blanket.
“Sir!” Olga arrives just in time.
“I need you to take her. Don’t leave her alone… she’s the youngest.”
She nods and draws the little girl into her arms. The child is still crying but does not resist our help.
“They’re saying Declan is inside the last room. Be careful.”
I nod, and Olga leaves me alone in the doorway.
There is a bed without a mattress, and the room is full of used condoms, blood, and faeces.
How long has that girl been here? What the hell did they do to her? She looks no more than three years old.
I stand and move down the hallway. The bastards are dropping like flies. One of them lunges at me with a knife in his hand. I seize his arm, yank him forward and pull the trigger; the shot bursts his skull.
I walk into the last room. My men are still struggling behind me.
Declan has a woman in front of him, pressing a gun to her head. She stares at me, terrified, while the bastard grins. I aim my gun, though I can’t shoot. He’ll use her as a human shield, and I won’t risk hitting her.
“Let her go.”
“I thought you’d be grieving after Lana’s death. Funny, we didn’t find any bodies at the scene.”
I clench my jaw. Mistakes. One after another. I keep making them.
“I took their bodies. You all are sick bastards; I wasn’t going to leave them there to be used—God knows how.”
He laughs and leans close to her. The girl must be barely eighteen; she’s got a whole life ahead of her.
She trembles, her breathing ragged, fists clenched at her sides. The sick fuck licks her neck and runs his hand down her body.
“Stefan mentioned that you trained her well,” he says, meeting my eyes. “That she took punches like a champ.”
I don’t need to hear this.
“Let her go, Declan,” I grit out.
“But she’s my toy.” He pouts. “Don’t you want to try her? I bet she’s better than Lana.”
He tears what’s left of her clothes. She cries and whimpers but does not speak or beg him to stop. She takes everything he does to her—and it’s not only the gun at her head. How much did they torture her to make her give up?
“Give me Lana, and I’ll give you this beauty,” he says, licking her face. “Along with others I have in storage. What do you say? One life for thousands. Your father would be proud.”
“Lana is dead.”
“Quit the shite and stop playing the fool. My men were after her when they saw you shoving her in the car with her son.” His smile widens. “Or should I say—”
“If you don’t want me to blow your brains out, shut the fuck up.”
He laughs. “Oh, but where would the fun be?” He moves against her. “Angelo told me he had a taste of her. Did you know he worked for us?”
Don’t be impulsive. I need him alive to find the others. I need him alive.
“It’s so easy to get into that house,” he continues. “I think I’ll spend some quality time with Lana when I get her back.”
“I swear I’ll—”
“Oh, I know how you work, Dante. And I know how soft you are, too,” he snorts. “You’re not fit to lace your father’s boots.” He looks at the girl. “Be free, gorgeous.”
He lets her go. She jerks her head towards him before running to me. I stretch out my arm, but before she can reach me, gunfire cracks through the air. Her face drains of life, and she falls at my feet.
I aim at Declan and fire without hesitation, but he dives out of the window, shooting into the air. I follow, peer out of the window, and a stabbing pain tears through my abdomen. Fear grips me. I apply pressure to the area, smudging my fingers with blood.
Declan looks up at me with a grin. He’s surrounded by his men, about to get into a car.
“I’ll make sure Lana gets your greetings. It will be interesting to have both sisters at my disposal.”
He fires again, and pain bursts in my shoulder.
I drop to the floor and reach for the photos. Every breath burns, my vision blurs.
I don’t want to die. I can’t die. Not yet. I need to see Finn grow up. I must give Lana the life she deserves. I have to train Javier to take over the organisation…
I have too much to do.
Shadows surround me; they murmur, but I can’t hear anything coherent. I just want to see the photos one more time. I need to see my family.
My hands are numb; my body is too.
I must get her out of there.
I can’t leave her.
I must—