Gilded Cage (Harbour Bay Book 6)

by Camille Taylor

  He didn’t fancy getting shot and the kid’s eyes were wild. He obviously knew he was dealing with a professional and that he was no match, especially since Declan’s steady aim was pointed in the kid’s chest. Right at the heart. There’d be no question of him missing.

  A million or so questions passed through his opponent’s head. Declan read each one in the kid’s eyes. Would he live through tonight? Could he be victorious? Just how good was this man?

  “Take a good long think about what you’re doing kid. This isn’t my first party.” His toneless voice, barely above a whisper had been specifically designed to scare the kid and he’d been right. The kid’s body stiffened under the threat. “Just walk away. Do that and we can both get out of this alive. Come on, kid. I don’t want to kill you.”

  The kid smirked, as though Declan’s preference not to hurt him had been interpreted as unwillingness and he had the upper hand. He couldn’t be more wrong.

  “That doesn’t mean I won’t if you don’t back down.”

  He waited while the kid thought through his options. The shaking still hadn’t stopped. Declan wanted nothing more than to step forward and relieve the kid of the weapon but an action like would only spook him and he couldn’t take that chance.

  The kid’s gaze darted anxiously around as if looking for the answer written on the wall. He had no such luck. Declan could easily read the inner turmoil on his face.

  He knew what the kid decided the minute he did and immediately set forth to stop him. Declan threw himself at the man the moment he attempted to squeeze the trigger. The silenced shot went wild, imbedding itself in the ceiling. Declan felt the tiny bits of plaster debris snow down on him as he and the kid went down hard, knocking the breath from the kid’s lungs as he hit the floor.

  Declan relieved him of the weapon. Snatching the curtain tie that hung from a hook beside the window, he quickly secured the man’s hands behind his back.

  “You better hope that by the time I get back to you, I’ve forgotten about this little incident.” He pulled him to his feet and dragged him over to coat closet and opened the door, pushing the kid in and quickly placing the nearest piece of furniture—an antique phone table—in front of the door, placing it on an angle so that one end was on the floor, the other lodged firmly beneath the doorknob.

  With that done, he turned to determine the damage caused by the kid. How the hell had he disarmed the alarm system? It was a state-of-the-art system. There was no way to bypass it. Which only meant someone inside had helped them. He stalked into the kitchen and glanced at the back door. Even from this distance, he could see it was unlocked. He moved closer and flicked the deadlock and as he did his gaze fell upon the prone figure lying on the cold kitchen floor.

  Kneeling beside Greta, he felt for a pulse. She was warm to the touch and thankfully there was a steady throb beneath his fingertips. Good. He had some questions to ask her when she woke.

  Declan spun around at the last second and dodged the skillet aimed at his head. He jumped back, easily manoeuvring out of the path of danger. Adrenaline pumping, he assessed the situation, sensing the presence of another man in the kitchen and knew he was being stalked. One coming from the north. The other from the south.

  Raising his gun, he aimed at the first man while keeping one eye on the second man who slowly approached him, his movements almost undetectable.

  These were trained men. He had no doubt these two would shoot to kill without remorse.

  “Back off.” Anxiety over Bethany’s safety had him at a short temper. He needed to get to her and ensure that she was unharmed. Fear gnawed at his guts. So far there were three men in the house but who knew how many more had entered. The entire mansion could be swarming with men intent on ending Bethany’s life.

  Declan fired, the bullet hitting the first man in the chest, knocking him to the ground. He swung around to intercept the second man but he was too close for Declan to give him the same treatment. The man hit him with the force of a ton of bricks, knocking Declan into the wall. The plaster cracked from the impact. The crunch barely audible over their combined breaths and grunts of exertion as the second man pushed his gun arm away. A battle of strength was waging and he wasn’t completely sure he was winning.

  He raised his knee, connecting with the man’s groin.

  The second man groaned but didn’t release his tenacious hold. Declan slowly brought the gun back up and the second man made a serious play to take over control. His hand curling around Declan’s on the grip. His fingers pressed against Declan’s causing him to squeeze the trigger multiple times until the clip was empty. Each shot imbedded into the nearby wall.

  With the gun no longer a viable threat, both men lost interest in it. Declan let it fall the ground in order to free his hands. He didn’t want any encumbrance. He lashed out at the man with everything he had. His bottled-up rage was set free and undiluted against his opponent. It wasn’t hard to keep up the level of hatred that was needed to defeat the man. All he had to do was think of Bethany and how completely unprotected she was against them.

  The second man, covered in perspiration fell to the floor beside his friend. Each far less healthy than they arrived.

  Chapter 41

  Sleep fogged her senses. Bethany blinked and glanced about the dark room. Goose bumps broke out of her skin. She rubbed her hands together. How long had she been asleep? A silver glow bathed the room, as moonlight streamed through the window and gave just enough light that she could see. Where had Declan gone? A moment of panic filled her, her stomach leaping at the memory of the last time they’d had sex. Pressing a hand against her stomach, she sat up. She needn’t worry. Declan wouldn’t have disappeared this time. He’d been the one to initiate it this time.

  What had awoken her? She massaged out the kinks from the back of her neck.

  A chill shot down her back. She rolled from the bed, moving in the dark to her closet and donning on a pair of pink cotton pyjamas pants and a white floral print long-sleeved shirt. She was locating a pair of socks for her frozen feet when the scrape of footsteps on the carpet behind her alerted her to a presence.

  Bethany’s heart stopped and she held her breath, trying desperately not to make her exact location known. Carefully, she sank to her knees creating a smaller target and slowly crawled along the carpet. She could hear the intruder moving closer, making as little sound possible in hopes of sneaking up on her.

  How the hell did he get in? The estate was locked up tighter than Fort Knox. She didn’t even allow herself a moment to think about what could have possibly happened to Declan or the possibilities that the intruder wasn’t alone.

  She exited the walk-in, still on her hands and knees, keeping her movements slow so she didn’t make a sound. She wasn’t sure what her plan was. But she needed one. Being trapped in her bedroom with a man who had come to kill her made the room close in on her.

  Regulating her breathing, she tried to calm down and think rationally.

  Maybe if she got to the door? She could open it and run as fast as she could while screaming at the top of her lungs. If Declan wasn’t already indisposed or—she shuddered—dead, a bloodcurdling scream should bring him running and if not, there was always Quinn and Greta who stayed in the mansion. Surely one of them would come to her rescue, not to mention, call the cops. Having decided her course of action, she headed towards the door. She only made it halfway before Bethany heard movement behind her and a savage curse came from above.

  “Fucking bitch.” A man snarled in the darkness and sharp pain erupted in the location of her ribcage. Her body was thrown backwards several feet with the force of the impact and she hit the carpet with a body jarring thud.

  Her teeth snapped together in an effort not to make a sound, not wanting to give her attacker any pleasure from hurting her. She could still feel the hard tip of his boot against her ribs, robbing her of breath. Her eyes watered as she processed the pain. Her body curled naturally into the foetal position in or
der to protect itself.

  A hand entwined in her loose hair and jerked her head back, exposing her vulnerable throat. She had trouble swallowing. Bethany wasn’t sure if it was the situation or the unnatural position she was in.

  A moment later she found herself on her feet and she immediately began to fight back, her survival instincts coming to life fuelled by the lessons Declan had taught her. She kicked at her attacker, he grunted when her foot connected with his shin. Bethany didn’t stop there. She dug her nails into his arm, drawing blood.

  He growled in her ear and pushed her away from him. She stumbled and fell into the wood bureau nearby. The impact stunning her and before she could recover, she was being dragged towards her bed and panic swelled up inside her. Her heart thundered in her ears.

  “No.”

  White teeth flashed in the darkness. “After all the trouble you caused me, lady, you should be thanking me that I’ll be making this quick.”

  Bethany shivered. Her head began to pound from her collision with the bureau and her bruised ribs were making it hard for her to breathe.

  On top of that, she was worried about Declan. Not to mention herself. Her body had tired quickly and every muscle had weakened during the fight. Fading fast, Bethany fought it with everything she had knowing if she succumbed she’d be more vulnerable than ever. Of all those times she had declared herself not useless, she was finding out the hard way she had been wrong.

  She dragged her feet, making her attacker pull her weight. The carpet beneath her burned against her heels. The man turned around and yanked her off her feet. Bethany let out a half-surprised half-frightened squeal.

  Just as suddenly as she had been lifted off her feet she found herself lying on the bed, her back against the cool sheets. The mattress dipped and panic spread throughout her belly. Her arms flayed about in an effort to ward off further approach. Her arms were pressed down into the mattress and held there, trapped. Her legs felt like they were weighted down and she belatedly realised he had already subdued her. No amount of struggling would save her now.

  This was truly it. He was going to rape her, then kill her. She could feel the cold steel of the gun beside her thigh.

  She called out for Declan as she tried to buck him off.

  “Sorry, your bodyguard can’t save you this time.”

  Bethany stiffened, her gaze flying to his and she saw the truth in his eyes. Declan was dead or would be very soon.

  “No.” She denied his claim. Declan couldn’t be dead. He just couldn’t be.

  “Yes. It’s just you and me now.”

  Bethany shuddered and for the first time wished to truly die.

  Chapter 42

  Bethany’s scared scream startled him, his body grew taut with anger. Declan punched the jaw of the man he caught sneaking into the mansion. Teeth snapped together and blood dribbled from his mouth. Declan didn’t even feel the damage to his knuckles.

  Another man appeared in his peripheral vision.

  He spun around. They were damn well raging a full-on assault. Declan counted another two and soon, he was outnumbered. Not that that mattered to him. He’d had worse odds before and he was still breathing. He would soon run through them all like they were nothing.

  He let out a savage cry and slammed his body against the surge of men. He hissed in pain as one got in a good shot against his kidney. Somewhere along the way, he had obtained a cut on his forehead and the small nuisance began to sting as it mixed in with the sweat from his body.

  A large booted foot came down on his knee and the force drove Declan down to the ground. The man who got in the lucky shot smirked in the shadows. Declan snagged the man’s balls and squeezed—hard. The bastard howled in pain, the sound enough to send shivers down everyone who was present backs. This time it was Declan who smirked.

  The man fainted from pain and slumped to the ground. So far he had been lucky. These weren’t trained mercenaries. Only men who wanted to prove they were good enough to take a man of his calibre on, but how long that lasted he couldn’t be sure. Their numbers had dwindled. It was only time before they stopped playing games and one of them shot him dead.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen. He had to get to Bethany. His mind raced, enduring all the images he conjured of what could be happening to Bethany that minute in the bedroom upstairs.

  His fingertips grazed the hard weapon resting between the unconscious man’s back and the waistband of his pants. His relief fled when a booted foot crushed his hand. Several fingers snapped under the pressure but he forced the pain back. He had been trained to ignore such injuries.

  Declan glared up at the man, allowing all the rage inside of him to shimmer in his eyes. The man above him lost his initial elation at having pinned down their prey and he suddenly turned wary, worried about what Declan might do next even though he was in the position of power.

  A strong arm wrapped around Declan’s attacker’s neck and squeezed, finding that special pressure point which rendered the subject unconscious. The man struggled briefly before it appeared too much and he dropped to the ground beside Declan.

  Declan stared up at Davies. The older gentleman was still poised ready for an attack. A dangerous gleam filled his eyes as he surveyed his surroundings like a professional. He calmly, but accurately, assessed the multitude of downed men and nodded.

  Declan straightened. “Jack-of-all-trades. I should’ve known there was more to you than met the eye. Beth said at least here she had the illusion of being alone, now I understand why.”

  Davies shrugged. “Like I told you. Mr. Bennett loves his daughter very much. He just doesn’t know what to do with her. Now go, I’ll finish up here. You go get our girl.”

  Declan wasn’t about to argue. He raced up the staircase towards Bethany’s bedroom and hoped he got there in time.

  ***

  A rush of burning hot blood ran through Christian’s veins. The woman struggled beneath him, blatantly trying to knee his groin. He smiled. Such fight. He hadn’t realised how much pleasure he would get from the simple act of killing her. And yet, he wanted more. Wanted to take his time and enjoy her.

  He reached down and cupped her breasts through the thin layer of clothes. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Bethany quivered in fear even as she lashed out to strike him. Such fire.

  Footsteps approached. He aimed his gun at the door. The steps grew cautious. Not one of his men. The bodyguard. He cursed and quickly covered Bethany’s mouth.

  At the sound of her name being called out, her eyes rounded and filled with hope and relief. Not for long. Yes, it was the bodyguard. Just as he suspected. This was going to be more fun than he originally thought. First the girl then her protector. From what he had seen previously the man had some moves. He would love to match strengths and weakness with the man.

  But first, he had to do his job. Hunter would expect nothing less. He didn’t mind his men doing their own thing, taking an extra life here and there for the pleasure of things so long as it didn’t interfere with the main objective.

  The doorknob jiggled and he tensed, preparing himself to maim but not kill. Just so long as the protector was out of commission long enough for him to finish his job and get proof of death. Hunter would take nothing short of her head on a platter, he knew. She had already caused him enough trouble. Miss Bennett should be thanking him instead of fighting him. Hunter would make sure she died slowly and painfully for each slight.

  He waited, holding his breath for the door to open. Anticipation almost made him giddy. He had been cooped up too long. Unable to stretch his wings.

  Sharp teeth cut into his hand and he cried out in pain.

  “No! Declan, don’t you dare.”

  He backhanded her hard across the face. His hand numbed from the impact. Beneath him, Bethany lay stunned. Even in the muted dark, he could see a mark begin to redden on her creamy skin.

  Despite the woman’s warning, the door opened and he shot blindly. A man, he assumed was the bodyguard du
cked and rolled into the room. Before he knew what was happening, an arm snaked around his neck and held it in a stronghold. Already he could feel his body weakening as he was dragged off the bed. He stumbled, unable to get his bearings as he fought needlessly against the tight hold. Stars spun and he knew this was the end. Any minute now he would be rendered unconsciousness. He’d gravely miscalculated.

  The man yanked his neck back, pressing a knee into the small of his back. His back bowed painfully, placing more pressure on his neck. Surprisingly, it didn’t snap from the force.

  He clutched frantically at the large muscular arms. His vision dimmed. This was the end. He had no doubts that the bodyguard would kill him.

  No longer able to keep fighting, his arms fell to his sides.

  He welcomed the dark. Welcomed death.

  Chapter 43

  “Declan no, don’t kill him.” Bethany scrambled off the bed, making sure she kept away from the floundering limps of his captive.

  Declan tightened the hold around Jackson’s neck. There was no way he was letting up on this bastard. He had almost killed Bethany. Had hurt her. Had been hovering over top of her. He had seen red the moment he had caught sight of Jackson in Bethany’s room. The man had tormented her. Made her feel guilt over her friends’ murders which she had no control of. He had made her feel scared. No, there was no way he would release the man. No way in hell.

  He didn’t care what she thought of him. Well, he did but that wasn’t going to stop him. She could wipe her hands of him when he was done. He knew it would hurt to see her look at him as if a stranger but he was too far gone now. Jackson had signed his death warrant the moment he had gone after Beth.

  Bethany took a step towards him. Her pupils were dilated and she shivered. He didn’t think she even realised she was cold.

  “Stop it, Declan I mean it. If you kill him he won’t be able to testify against Hunter.” Her voice much more in control than he knew she was feeling. Declan closed his eyes briefly. She wasn’t afraid of him killing Jackson, of Declan becoming something she couldn’t abide. Damn her, she was thinking logically much to his annoyance.