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“And that’s where Michael’s going with Finn, isn’t it?” I asked, then paused for the briefest second to add, “You do know there’s no way he’s taking you with him, right?”

Ciaran tried to give an incredulous laugh, but it came out as more of a choked little grunt.

I kept on. “Just think about it: leaving you behind in Ireland would probably be the most sensible decision Little Lord Albermarle would make in his life if he’s trying to economise.”

I paused as if I were giving the subject a little more thought, then added, “I should imagine you could pick up an entire horde of baby wannabe gangsters over there for, oh, about a fifth of what he’s paying you. What is the current Euro to Lek exchange rate, by the way? Any idea?”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” Ciaran ordered, and I knew I was pushing him too far for my own good now.

“But hey, I’m sure everything’s going to be fine, and your future is going to be positively golden,” I continued. “I’m sure there are plenty of opportunities over there for an overpaid, ageing, second-rate, drug-addled lout with an internationally-accessible criminal record who struggles with a first language, never mind a second. I mean, who wouldn’t want you as their loyal little attack-mongrel with that CV?”

That did it. Ciaran brought us to a screeching, slewing halt across the road and reared up over the driver’s seat so that I had to brace myself against the wheel arch so I didn’t slam into the side of the van. ‘Enough!” He hollered, and I felt his spittle shower over my face. “If you don’t shut your evil fuckin’ mouth right now I’ll come back there and dry-fist you so hard that the only thing I’ll be able to hear is your screamin’.”

I watched the tiny muscles in Ciaran’s jaw spasm as he tried to control himself, and I guessed he had to be under some particularly strict orders to behave himself. I could only hope that on this occasion blind obedience would win over blind fury, and I would arrive at our destination unharmed.

“Ah well, maybe you can clear everything up with a little chat with your master once we get to… Well, whichever delightful location we’re heading to,” I said, as brightly as I could possibly manage.

I had done enough for the moment; any more digging and I knew I risked serious harm, and I had no wish to experience the anger of an O’Halloran man for the second time in my life. I still had one last salvo to fire, but that one would have to wait just a little longer, so I finally curled up on the filthy, stinking mattress and made myself as small and silent as I possibly could.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Finn

Not for the first time in my life I came round both amazed at my continued survival, and also with no idea where the fuck I was.

I recalled walking, then hurting, then falling into darkness, and that was it. My initial bleary thought was that if I hadn’t actually been shot dead then I must have dreamt the last twelve months. The sensation of being drugged beyond all reason and yet still in pain was definitely all too familiar.

I forced myself to take a deep, steadying breath and in return I was rewarded with a fleeting but precise vision of leaving Lilith in the hotel bathroom and it seemed that this was my reality whether I liked it or not.

I opened my eyes, blinked and tried to focus, and saw my world through a crimson lens. I felt blood trickling down my face and went to wipe it away.

My hands wouldn’t move.

My legs wouldn’t move.

Every nerve was on fire

As my awareness returned I realised I was both held upright and tethered on some sort of free-standing metal frame. My hands were cuffed at the wrist above my head and my feet were bound together at the ankles. A tidal bore of panic rose in my chest as I thrashed against the cold metal bonds that held me, and I briefly considered that my previous guess about not being dead was wrong and after a good few years of trying I’d finally managed to land myself in Hell.

I tried to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth to calm the anxiety as I’d been taught by Luis, and that was when I found out my mouth was sealed with something and whatever it was, it was firmly stuck to my skin. Duct tape, I guessed. My t-shirt had also been removed, and I couldn’t tell whether the cold or shock was making me shiver hardest.

I sensed rather than saw someone approach me, and I didn’t have to wait long to find out who it was. “My family really doesn’t like it when people renege on a contract, Finn,” Michael Albermarle said in that all too familiar polished tone, and nuzzled into my neck.

At that moment Hell seemed like a preferable option.

“But still, I’ve retrieved you now, so we can make a start on your penance,” Michael continued. “I can imagine you’re feeling a little fuzzy at the moment, but that’s just because you’ve had the tiniest shot of Propofol – just enough to keep you nice and quiet whilst we got you all secured on this gantry. And don’t worry, I’ve done my research; it should be out of your system in no time, so you’ll be nice and alert for your big adventure to come. It’s really so much faster than the stuff you were used to back on the island.”

My captor ran his hands softly over my wrists and down my bare arms, ostensibly to check that my bonds were tight, but there was no mistaking that overly-tender touch; I could feel the man’s warped desire quivering through his fingertips.

“By the way, you did manage to hit your head on the way down when you were Tasered,” Michael added. “I think it’s just a flesh wound, but I’ll keep watching for signs of concussion anyway; I want the only damage inflicted on you to be intentional. Such a clumsy boy.”

He walked over to a nearby wheeled metal tool shelf as he spoke and I gave an involuntary shudder. From experience I knew that that kind of furniture in a room rarely boded well. “Now I’m just going to get that cleaned up for you so I can see those beautiful features properly. Just make sure you hold still, okay? Not that you’ve got much option right now, of course,” he said like a right little smug git, and produced a damp cloth that smelled of surgical spirit to wipe my face. “Ah, just look at you. No wonder I was entranced the first time my mother let me watch you at work. And you know, I think the bruising from your little street brawl yesterday makes you even more striking – it must be that whole ‘rough trade’ edge you’ve always radiated.”

He must have found the spot where my forehead had hit the gravel, because he pressed the cloth so hard against it that I flinched at the sudden sting.

Michael pretended not to notice. “I was watching, you know? When you got out of the police car,” he said pleasantly as he continued to dab at the dried blood with meticulous care. If it were Lilith doing it I’d have been comforted by the gentle touch, but this man’s warped veneration of my body only served to sicken me more.

“You were so very brave, considering you thought you were about to be shot in the back,” he continued. “I asked them to do that, by the way – act like they were going to kill you? I filmed it on my mobile, too. I must admit I had hoped that you’d cry, or at least plead a little, but there again there was definitely something arousing about watching all that... masculine fortitude on display.

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