Oh God oh God oh God, what now? Kat gave herself a mental slap. She had to remain calm, keep a clear head if she was going to figure a way out of this.
The elevator opened and they stepped into the car. Sully swiped a key card and punched the button for the penthouse level as the doors slid shut on the polished tile and chandeliers of the lobby. “I cut the tracker out of my arm.”
Sully glanced at the bandage on her arm. “Yeah, we figured that out. You got guts, I’ll give you that. Vinnie passes out when he gets cut.”
“Hey, Sul, why doncha blow me? I told you my blood sugar was low that day.”
Kat ignored Sully’s chuckling and Vinnie’s belly-aching and talked over them. “So then how did you find us?”
The laughter died and the men got serious again. Sully looked insulted. “We’re not small-time thugs, princess. Once we found your car nose-first in a swamp we had a BOLO out on his motorcycle and his buddy’s car. And with Sicoli’s PD connections in every Southern state, it didn’t take us long to get word on your location.”
Damn it. They should have kept driving last night. Drove until they reached Mexico and never looked back. But just because she left the country didn’t mean Sicoli would stop searching for her. She didn’t know much about him except that he was dangerous and extremely prideful. He’d never stop sending people after her. He had the funds to do it and by now it wasn’t only principle, but it was personal. The longer she evaded him, the worse she made him look.
Kat finally realized this would never be over. Not until Sicoli was satisfied that the debt owed him was paid in full. And that wasn’t Irish’s problem. It never had been. Still, she’d allowed him to insert himself in the middle of her mess and now he might end up paying with his life. She couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t.
Before she knew it, the elevator granted them access to the penthouse and she was once again being ushered toward her room. Strange how fast things changed. Only a few minutes ago she’d been anxious to get here. Now she’d do anything to never reach that door.
Digging the heels of her boots into the carpet, she brought them up short. “Listen, guys, I’ll make you a deal. If you take me to Sicoli right now, I swear I’ll come quietly. I won’t fight you, and I won’t try to escape. Deal?”
The men gave each other sidelong glances, then Sully spoke. “Let me get this straight. You actually want us to take you to Sicoli now?”
She nodded emphatically. “Yes. But only if you leave Irish out of this from now on. I don’t want him involved anymore.”
“Well, then, I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news,” Sully said. “The good news is we’ll take you to Sicoli.”
Relief trickled through her just as a sense of dread began worming its way to her stomach.
“The bad news is,” Vinnie finished as his partner used the key card to open the door to her room, “we’ve already involved your boy some more.”
Sully entered first. His tall frame prevented her from seeing anything until the door slammed shut behind her and he moved off to the side.
“Oh my God, what have you bastards done to him?” She tried lunging for Irish but the men held her back while she struggled to break free.
Irish sat on the bed, his body slumped forward as much as his outstretched arms allowed with his wrists cuffed to the bed posts. His bare torso was covered in red where it was obvious he’d been beaten—drenched in sweat and marked with bleeding cuts. She knew that whatever they’d done he’d fought them the whole way. It’s who he was. He was a fighter. Her fighter.
My fighting Irish. He lifted his head from his chest and her breath left her. His right eye was swollen shut and his lower lip had been split open again. A torn piece of the bedsheet worked as a gag. It was more than she could stand. “Let me go!”
“It’s all right, boys.”
She heard the third voice come from the corner of the room, but she didn’t spare it a thought. The moment she felt her freedom she raced across the room and leapt onto the bed. Irish hissed from the jostling. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered, gingerly crawling the rest of the way to him. Kneeling before him, she pulled the gag from his mouth and held his face in her hands. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry.”
“Did either of those motherfuckers touch you?” His voice was hoarse but no less deadly. The animal he claimed lived inside of him was starting to surface. Muscles bunched and released and he looked ready to walk through hell if he had to.
“No, I’m fine.” Every cut, every drop of blood, every bruise they’d given him was because of her, and still the man’s first concern was if she’d been harmed. It was too much. Tears fell unbidden, blurring her vision and frustrating the hell out of her. As terrible as he looked, she didn’t want anything preventing her from seeing him clearly. “God, look what they’ve done to you.”