Chapter Nine

Brynleigh

I’d fallen asleep against the wall, which seemed unheard of in my current situation. But it was the sound of the basement door opening, of light washing in this hole of a room, that woke me up.

I shifted on the shitty little pallet I was currently on, trying to keep my body covered, trying to block myself from whoever was coming in.

Would they hurt me again?

Would Vincenzo torment me?

Vincenzo thought he had broken me, or that he could, but he was wrong. I was stronger, so much stronger than he gave me credit for. And he’d find that out sooner rather than later.

I blinked a few times, my vision blurry from being trapped in this darkened room for so long. But when it cleared I saw a small, thin silhouette.

A woman.

I could see she held a couple things, but the light behind her made her body dark with shadows. She stood by the door for a few minutes, speaking softly with someone I couldn’t see. Finally, she stepped inside. The closer she came the clearer I could see her. Then I realized who she was and what she held.

A thick blanket in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

She was the maid from the night I’d been forced to eat dinner with Vincenzo.

She crouched on her knees in front of me and smiled, and I found myself doing the same despite my current situation.

“I’m not supposed to be down here,” she said softly. She looked over her shoulder again and I followed to where her gaze was, seeing the armed guard standing on the other side. He was looking at the maid, and I could see this longing in his expression.

He was risking his life because he clearly had feelings for her. He was doing this for her, not me.

“Sometimes we have to break the rules to remember that we are human,” she said before she looked back at me. She smiled once more. “I can’t stay long, but he’s left the house for the time being.” She didn’t need to tell me it was Vincenzo she spoke about. I knew.

She set the blanket aside and reached into the paper bag she held. She pulled out a bottle of water, a yogurt, and a sandwich.

I could have cried right then and there. Although I wasn’t being starved, it had been hours since anyone had been down here, had given me food or water.

She unfolded the blanket and wrapped it round me. Instantly warmth enveloped my body and I sighed. It was soft and smelled like flowers.

She helped me with the water, holding the bottle up to my mouth as I greedily chugged it. I drank half of the water before she pulled it away and set it aside.

She lifted the sandwich for me to take a bite. She did this for the next ten minutes, alternating between giving me drinks of water and bites of the sandwich. Then she fed me the yogurt. I could’ve cried, in fact, I felt the tears slide down my cheeks. The act of kindness didn’t go unnoticed. She was risking a lot—her life—by helping me.

“Please help me get out of here,” I whispered, feeling my eyes widen, my expression probably wild. She gave me a sad smile and shook her head, detachment on her face.

“I want to but I can’t. Vincenzo is the only one who has the keys to your chains and lock.”

I shifted and the chains rattled.

“He doesn’t trust anyone with them, not even the men closest to him.”

I felt dejection fill me. Although I had braced myself for that kind of news, hearing it made it so much worse.

Sagging as the weight of what was going on settled into me once more, I looked at the woman.

“What’s your name?”

She looked sad, and I knew she genuinely wanted to help me.

“Amelia,” she finally said.

“Amelia, please, can anyone help me? Can anyone get that key? He’s taken me, keeping me prisoner.” I was trying to stay strong, but I felt my reserve crumbling in the face of all of this. I had no doubt Rooney would come for me. I had no doubt he’d rescue me, but I wanted to be as strong as him. I wanted to be able to solve my own problems, too.

She looked at the chains and lifted her hand to pull on the lock. It was heavy duty, one that I thought was kind of overkill, but with Vincenzo it was clear he liked to showboat the hell out of things.

“Marco, can you help?” Amelia asked the armed guard. He looked at me and seemed detached, but when he glanced at Amelia I saw the stony reserve crumble.

“You know I can’t. I could lose an eye just for letting you come down here, Amelia.” He looked to the side, his body tense. “Come on. It’s time to go. No telling when he’ll come back.”

Amelia stood and panic settled in. “Please don’t go. Please.”

She was crying now, her empathy strong. “I’m sorry. I’ll try and come back again.” She wiped the tears. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could help. But he’s got everyone under his thumb. The police, officials, everyone is working for him, in his pocket.” She picked up the food items but left the blanket, although I could see on her face that she wanted to take it.

“Here, take it so he doesn’t know. I don’t want him finding out and punishing anyone for helping me.”

She hesitated, but took the blanket. “He’d punish you as well, just to spite us all.”

I nodded. “I know.” And I knew he had probably a lot of people under his thumb. I knew no one but the club and Rooney could help me now.

And I prayed they did, because at this rate I didn’t think I could get myself out of this mess.

Rooney


Vincenzo wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. Within a few hours of him taking Bryn, I knew his location. It wasn’t exactly hard, considering he’d gone to a house out in the sticks, far away from civilization, where he thought he was truly safe.

I’d checked the place out and knew there was no way I could get to Bryn and there was no chance of me ever getting her out of there alive. Not if I wanted to be breathing afterward.

Even now, it was a risk, but one I was willing to take.

The club was after me, and they’d be on my ass soon. Especially when they knew who I was going after.

Everything had gone to shit and I couldn’t help but think it was all my fault for being so fucking protective of Bryn.

My feelings for her hadn’t ever changed and now she could be dead before I even got to tell her.

I opened the trunk of my car and stared down at my weapons. Timing was everything and I didn’t have much of it to solve such a big problem.

The diversion was already in place, part of my plan. Vincenzo never travelled without a shitload of guards. I truly believed he was compensating for a tiny dick and I’d gladly get rid of that little problem and shove it up his fucking ass.

Still, with him out of the house, the guards were down to a minimum. What I was about to do was sure as hell a suicide mission.

If I got Bryn out alive, there was a chance the club would kill her. If I got out alive, we’d be on the run with not only the club but also Vincenzo on my ass.

One step at a time.

One problem to deal with and then on to the next one.

Picking up the AK-47, I loaded it up, loving the feel of it in my hand. I preferred my Glock most days of the week as it got the job done with minimal fuss.

This, though, I could load up with ammunition, and let it rip.

I also had protective wear on in the form of a bulletproof vest, not that they were great. Sure, they stopped bullets but they bruised like a bitch.

With the gun in my hand, ammunition at the ready, I stared down the street to where the first guard would be.

I had to be ready for everything.

First thing, get the gate open, and once I was inside, kill everything with a fucking pulse. Tapping my fingers against my side, I counted to ten.

I don’t know what it was about counting, it relaxed me.

With each step I took, I counted.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

I didn’t stop counting and when I got to thirty, I hid the gun behind my back and whistled over to the guard.

Much to my own anger and disgust, I’d left my leather cut back at home. When the club got there, I imagined they’d burn my house to the ground. They didn’t exactly have any compulsion for forgiveness for someone who killed their leader.

The guard frowned, coming toward me.

Big mistake.

“I’ve got a delivery for Vincenzo,” I said.

“Who are you?”

I pulled my knife, slamming it in his throat through the security gate. Pulling him against the metal bars, I held the gun between my thighs, not the safest of ways to store the gun, admittedly. I found the keys, worked the gate, and let the bastard go with a shove. I was in.

There were guards coming toward us. Raising my gun, I took aim and fired.

They went down and with the noise, I started to count again.

One.

Two.

Three.

Two more guards appeared and I shot at them. Bullets rushed past me, and I kept running, heading toward the house.

Another two guards were at the door.

I was starting to get a theme here. The guards ran in twos.

“Where is she?” I asked, holding the body of my gun against another guard who I shot in the arm. He was pressed against the door, and I slammed the gun against his throat, choking him. I wanted blood.

All of it, coating all over my body, so they knew who they were fucking messing with.

No one took my woman and got away with it.

Not on my watch. It pissed me off and as the guy pointed in the direction, I pulled away and fired. His head exploded from the impact of the bullets.

As I got to another guard I was about to take aim and fire when a frail woman threw herself in front of him.

“Please, she’s in the basement. We don’t mean any harm. Please, take her.”

I didn’t trust any of them.

I tensed on the trigger.

“Look, man, the moment you started shooting, Vincenzo knew it was you. He’s heading back here right now and has an army. You’ve got to go now,” the man said.

I didn’t have time to second guess.

Leaving them alone, letting them live, I went straight to where they pointed. Rushing down the stairs, the only light on the basement, filled me with anger, especially when I saw what had been done to Bryn.

She was passed out, shaking a little.

“Shit, Bryn,” I said. “I’m going to get you out of this. I promise.”

Her hands were cuffed, and she was cold to the touch.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

I saw no choice but to fire at the chains. Once I did, they’d snap and she’d fall, hitting the floor. I didn’t want her to hurt herself but I had no more choices. I stood far enough back, brought the gun up, and fired at the chains.

Bryn cried out and I went to her.

I didn’t have time to console her.

Picking her up in my arms, I carried her out of the basement.

The man and woman were still there, guarding the door.

“Go,” she said.

Without another look, I left the house, taking the back entrance with Bryn in my arms.