* * *
The smell of rotting wood and mold burned Sophie’s nose. Her body trembled as it struggled to shed the aftereffects of the drug. The memory of that needle plunging into her neck slammed into her head, causing a violent headache. It pounded against her temples with the force of a bass drum. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her lips as she came around. She was facedown on a ratty cot in a dark room. She turned her head and blinked, giving her eyes a chance to focus in the dim light. When she moved her arm, something sticky clung to it. , and pain lanced through her.
She gasped when she saw the five-inch cut that was still bleeding. It didn’t look too deep, but it had bled quite a bit while she’d been unconscious. It burned like hell. Sophie struggled to sit up and glance about the room. It looked like she was in some sort of cellar. One out of a slasher film. Dark liquids of an unknown nature were collecting dust in rows of mason jars that sat on wooden shelves around the sides of the room. Electric lanterns hung from nails on the wooden posts supporting the ceiling. Dust and debris littered the floor where she sat and Sophie realized with a horrible sinking feeling that she had to be in an abandoned mansion somewhere. Emery had told her there were several empty, crumbling mansions not far from where he had been taken…
“Oh God…” She knew where she was. It was the only thing that made sense. She’d been taken to the mansion where Emery and Fenn had been held all those years ago.
The scuffle of boots on the wood stairs by the cot had her scrambling back. Boots and jeans came into view and then Antonio D’Angelo, the harbinger of doom for the Lockwood family, came into view. He paused at the bottom and leaned against the post at the base of the stair railing.
“Hello, sweetheart.” He had that tone of voice, one she knew sadly too well. There was evil in it, a delight in creating terror. The flash of his predatory smile was one she’d seen years ago on another man’s face as he’d taken away her best friend.
The primal part of Sophie was terrified, but the other half of her knew what to expect. He would do something to her, something that would hurt her in the worst possible way. But no matter what he did, there was a part of her that was untouchable: the part she’d given to Emery. The sacred barriers around her heart were strong as ever; not even Emery’s recent treatment could undo the love she carried for him.
“You and I are going to get acquainted, get the party started before Emery shows up.” He stripped off his black leather jacket and hung it on the post.
“Do you honestly think you’ll get to me that way? That I’m so easy to scare?” She replied coldly, but her voice was too hoarse.
“Yes, yes, I think I will. See, I know about your friend. Rachel. That was her name, wasn’t it?”
“Don’t you dare say her name.” Quiet rage filled her, giving her strength. She clenched her fists at her sides, restraining herself.
“Do you think she cried, when that man raped her? Maybe she liked it? I bet she liked it right up until he killed her and left her body in some shallow grave.”
The words were daggers. And she bled with each breath. White hot fury seared her brain. How she remained grounded and in control, she’d never know.
Antonio laughed even though she had not given him the reaction he would have wanted. “You must not have cared much for her.”
“I care, which is something someone like you will never understand.”
She got to her feet, slowly and carefully. She wasn’t going to let him do anything else to her, with his words or otherwise, not without a fight. Gone was the frightened child on the playground. There was no innocence left in her to destroy. For once she was pure strength.
Antonio’s black eyes filled with wicked glee. “You aren’t frightened, are you.” It was a statement, not a question.
“What’s there to be scared of? An assassin who couldn’t even kill two eight-year-old boys? You had twenty-five years to kill Emery even though he’s been here all along. Yeah, you’re terrifying.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. The flash of anger on his face made her grin inside. He reigned in his temper, though.
“You expect me to kill you quickly, if I lose my temper. You’d miss the fun of torture. Smart girl. I see why Emery is so anxious to get you back.”
Finally something had gone right. Emery didn’t love her and wouldn’t be entering a certain deathtrap to rescue her. It was a small reassurance.
“He won’t come.” She relaxed, confident. Whatever would happen would be between the two of them. She could brave him and his cruelty, but Emery had to stay away.
“You’re wrong. He’s on his way. You see…I was the one who convinced him you’d been keeping the news about Fenn a secret to hurt him. And he hurt you back, didn’t he?”
Her face betrayed her pain and the malevolent delight he took from her expression made her stomach turn.
“He’s always been easy to manipulate. I used Fenn as a way to control him when I had both boys. They used to gang up on the two men I hired to help me. They were spoiled little brats and they fought so hard to escape, so many times. But I figured them out. All it took was separation. Emery would cower and do whatever I wanted if I hurt Fenn. It actually proved rather fascinating. I used to put Fenn in another room and torture him. He never made a sound, but Emery did. He had no way of knowing what I did to his brother but he would scream in pain each time I sliced his brother’s flesh.” Antonio pulled a hunting knife out of his boot and held it up for her to see.
“I’ve had my suspicions, you see, that those boys had some sort of connection to each other. I’ve spent the past twenty-five years fulfilling other contracts—”
“Kills, you mean,” Sophie spat.
“Yes. I kept tabs on Emery. He never once showed signs he was communicating with his brother. It took me longer to find Fenn on my own. But I did. The funny thing is, he can’t remember a thing. He’s been raised by strangers and has no clue to who he really is. It will be so much easier killing him. He’ll never see it coming.”
Sophie slowly got up, easing out of her black pumps. The concrete was cold and rough beneath the soles of her feet, but it was better than being in heels. She’d break an ankle if she wasn’t careful.
This is no different than the last time. You got out alive that time too. Her inner voice tried to encourage her, but she knew chances of her survival were slim. Sometimes one had to go down fighting and take the enemy down with them if they could. If she died and took Antonio with her, it would be her last act to save Emery.
“Have you decided you’d like to play, then?” He flicked the knife in the air and caught it.
She kept her steady gaze. Over the years she’d learned how to deal with men like him. They enjoyed power, and their ability to hurt others. If she presented herself as weak, he’d kill her immediately and it wouldn’t give her any advantage to die now. Any shift of her eyes, any slight indication of her thoughts or plans would be seen. He’d pick up on them and stop her. That left only a few options. She needed him to put the knife down.
“I think I’ll leave you in pieces for him to find. Cut you up and scatter your little bloody bits all over the mansion. It will destroy him and when he’s barely able to breathe, I’ll come in and finish him off.” Antonio studied her body like a butcher eyeing a fresh carcass.
Breathe in, breathe out. It’ll be okay. She summoned her last bit of control and plastered a cool smile on her face.
“I guess the joke is on you, too. I never really loved him, you know. He was an easy target for my story.” She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her shaking hands with a false bravado.
He raised one brow in challenge.
She continued. “What, you thought I really loved him? You’re just as gullible as he is. I played into his fantasy. A quiet, repressed submissive, looking for a master to open up her world to the darker side of the bedroom. It was only too easy and the poor sucker bought it hook, line, and sinker. He told me everything. I’ll be famous when the story hi
ts the papers.” She eyed him speculatively. “I suppose I have you to thank for it. If you weren’t such a pathetic psycho I’d be tempted to say we should team up. But I don’t like you, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t offer to split the fame and fortune part of this deal.” She continued to talk, her tone nonchalant, attempting to sound amused by the situation. Her eyes roved the room, using the momentary distraction of her voice to check for anything she could use as a weapon.
He still watched her through narrowed eyes, but he lowered the knife a few inches.
“You love him. I saw it when you looked at him tonight.” He didn’t seem as certain as before, though. His brow furrowed slightly.
Sophie pressed her advantage.
“Right, because women can’t act.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. It was all a lie. He fell for it, and so did you. Never try to beat a woman when it comes to mind games. We’re better at it. It’s just simple evolution. Thousands of years of manipulating men to get what we want.” She kept his attention by brushing a cobweb out of the way just a few inches from her face while her eyes swept the cellar, her gaze settling for a second on a large shovel. It was ten feet away, and she had no clue how to get past Antonio without him attacking. He held the knife loosely but that could change at a second’s notice.
“Well, it doesn’t matter whatever you’ve intended. He still loves you and killing you will hurt him, especially if he never knows your true feelings.” Antonio’s pronouncement forced her heart into her throat.
Time for plan B? Her inner voice was shaky. Sometimes no matter what you did, the deck was stacked against you. How often had her father said that when she’d get upset over something? She wished he was here now, so she could apologize for not calling more often, for not coming home to visit. There were too many things she’d failed to do in recent years…but she wasn’t going to let this one man destroy her world so easily.
Screw the deck, screw the game. There was only one option.
She crouched as though to pick up her heels and the second her body was coiled tight, she sprang at Antonio’s legs. He grunted as they collided and they both fell to the ground next to the stairs. She rolled and was on her feet running up the stairs. Her legs were weak and rubbery from the drug he’d injected but her desire to survive overrode the drug’s effects.
He was too fast. Gripping her left ankle, he jerked and she tripped, smacking hard into the wooden stairs. She clipped her she rocketed up the chin and stars dotted her vision for a second. It was a second too long. Antonio, breathing hard, crawled up her body, knife in hand. In a frantic scramble of limbs she reared back, head-butting him. His agonized shout was the only urging she needed to ram her elbows into him and dislodge him from her back. Her skirt ripped up her leg as she crawled up the cellar steps. Adrenaline kicked in and remaining decaying wooden planks. She turned the rusted doorknob and plunged into the moonlight splendor of a crumbling ballroom.
Brilliant milky moonbeams burst through the high shattered windows of the mansion. Faint shadows formed spirals on the pale whitewashed walls. Ivy snaked up a staircase that led to nowhere and laced the edges of the broken window panes. Stone crunched ahead of her and suddenly Emery and Hans swept around the nearest doorway, stepping into the ballroom. Moonlight fell through the half-collapsed ceiling, striking the barrel of the pistol Emery aimed in her direction.
“Em—” Her warning shout was silenced as Antonio grabbed her from behind, the blade pressing against her throat. Her hands shot up automatically to grab his forearm, but when she dug her nails into it to drag it away, he pressed the blade deeper into her skin.
Hans and Emery froze, guns trained on Antonio, but she knew they didn’t have a clear shot. He was hunched behind her, using her as a shield, and the cellar doorway behind them offered cover and prevented Emery and Hans from shifting to a better angle.
“Welcome home, boy,” Antonio chuckled. “Did you miss me and our time together?”
“Fuck you,” Emery replied coldly.
“Manners, boy, manners.” The blade sank into her skin, cutting like butter. Blood oozed down her neck. Sophie met Emery’s gaze, her eyes widening as she saw something on his face that made her go numb. His eyes glazed over, and he shook his head as though troubled with some inner demon whispering poison in his head. A man tortured…
* * *
The blood trickled down Sophie’s neck and Emery couldn’t breathe. The headache struck without warning and he fought to stay in control, but he could feel it crawling through his skin like a panther prowling through the shadows of the Amazon forest, seeking prey. The presence of the other man, the one who’d drive him to madness, was back.
The black bull was massive and stood absolutely still in the loading pen, its eyes like twin pools of crude oil, unblinking and darker than the pits of hell. Its nostrils flared once, twice, a heavy snort. He was going to ride this beast even if it killed him. The prize money was his last chance.
Emery shook his head, ridding himself of the presence, if only for a second.
“Weapons down, you and your bodyguard. Kick them over to me.”
“Shoot him!” Sophie gasped. “Kill him now, for God’s sake!” She struggled and the blade at her throat cut deeper. The cry of pain that escaped her lips made his blood freeze. The memories, like ghosts, haunted him in his sleep, but this wasn’t a dream. Antonio was going to hurt someone else he loved and the bastard would do it to torture Emery. He cocked the gun, held it ready for the shot to clear, but Antonio repositioned himself again, keeping Sophie in front of him.
“Don’t test me, boy. You know I’ll push back,” Antonio cautioned but the jackal grin on his face said everything. If Emery crossed the line, Antonio would slit her throat in an instant.
This time when the blade bit into her, Sophie didn’t make a sound. She closed her eyes as the trickle of blood deepened to a ruby line soaking the bodice of her gown.
“Hans,” Emery murmured quietly.
“Yeah,” Hans answered back, understanding his silent instruction. At the same time they lowered their guns to the floor and kicked them in Antonio’s direction. They’d devoted years to preparing for scenarios like this, they were always working out every strategy and they were prepared to do whatever was necessary. Their guns skidded over the ballroom floor, clouds of dust billowing up in their wakes as they came to rest at Sophie and Antonio’s feet.
Antonio removed the knife from Sophie’s neck and then in a wicked jab, he sank the blade into her stomach and pulled it out.
“Sophie!” Emery bellowed and started toward them.
She jerked and then turned in Antonio’s arms as though to fight off further attacks. He grinned at her and then shoved her away. She fell to the ground, coughing and moaning as she clutched her bleeding stomach. Antonio bent, grabbed the guns, and straightened, firing straight at Hans. The bodyguard jerked with the impact of the bullet to his chest and went down. Emery stood in the center of the ballroom, arms raised, palms empty as he faced down the man who’d ruined his life and taken his brother, his woman, and his bodyguard from him.
“It was always supposed to be just you and me, Emery. You shouldn’t have gotten involved with her and I told you not to bring your rent-a-cop. What’s a man supposed to do when you don’t follow instructions?” Antonio’s eyes were wild, his face so twisted that he looked even more unstable than Emery remembered.
Emery glanced at Hans, who lay facedown, unmoving. God…He prayed his friend wasn’t gone. They’d planned for this, they’d planned…
Sophie moved, her body writhing slowly as she tried to drag herself away from Antonio. Blood darkened her dress just above her stomach and she pressed her hand over the wound to staunch the blood flow.
“She’ll be fine, for now.” Antonio was watching her too. “I know how to kill and I also know how to wound. I’m saving her for later, after I’m done with you. She’ll get what’s coming to her. She’s a lying little b
itch. She never truly loved you, told me so herself when she woke up.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet she did.” Emery replied, his gaze shooting to Sophie’s. She met his eyes, steady although pain-filled, and he could read the message there. He’d always been able to read her, and now was no different. He prayed she could read him the same way.
I love you. No matter what happens, I belong to you, Sophie.
She blinked. Tears slid down her cheeks and she gave an infinitesimal nod back.
Emery turned his attention back to Antonio. “Fine. You want to play, let’s play. No guns, just fists. The way you like it.”
“Ah, so you do remember our time together. I was beginning to think you were like your brother. Apparently he’s a fucking head case, can’t remember anything about his life before I took him.”
The mention of Fenn made Emery hesitate a moment too long. Antonio fired his gun, and the bullet dug into Emery’s shoulder. He grunted with the impact and then moaned as pain exploded in his entire body. It was like being hit by a freight train. His head seemed to jolt with the impact and something was shaken loose inside him. The other man was back in his head.
He settled on the bull’s back, grinned at the other cowboys leaning on the metal railings, waving their hats in encouragement. The beast between his legs tensed, every raw bit of muscle rippling and tightening as it waited for the moment the gate would spring open and it could throw him through the air. The announcer’s voice cut through the cheering crowds as he began the countdown to opening the gate.
Five…
“What’s the matter, Emery, can’t take a little gun shot?”
Emery breathed through his nose and resisted the urge to touch his arm. It burned like hell.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t like the odds, D’Angelo. Afraid I’d be more up to the fight since I’m not a kid anymore?” he challenged.
The Gilded Cuff Page 30