Page 100 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

“I assure you that if you follow the correct care, soon it will be as if this whole thing had never happened,” the doctor said and packed his bag.

That was exactly what Brandon wished. That they could move on and pretend this whole thing never happened. Never in his whole life would he want to feel such anguish again. When he saw her tied to that chair, when the flames were upon her…

“The Runners have the last of Johnny’s men in custody.” Owen joined him and Duncan.

“Did we get Johnny?” Brandon asked as his look darkened.

Now that his agony subsided and the danger was gone, Brandon felt a sudden urge to grab the gang leader and not let go till he was lifeless. But he would refrain from doing so. The first reason was that one of the agreements they had when they entered the Dark Hand was that though violence was a necessary tool, they wouldn’t make unnecessary use of it. The second reason that prompted him to hold his nerves was sitting right now, barefoot on a crate, brave, amazing, and utterly his.

“I was worried he would use the fire to escape and orchestrate his death,” Duncan said, always anticipating three moves ahead. “But even if he had such plans, he did so without taking Victor into account.”

“I mean, he’s mostly quiet, but I don’t understand how Johnny thought that he could outrun Victor,” Owen scoffed. “You should have seen it, Brandon. Johnny ran for his life then Victor dragged him back to the Runners.”

“I believe we can make him rat out others around the docks,” Duncan said without showing any emotion. “People like him usually give up information to save some of their hide.”

“Do not tell me you are going to let Johnny go?” Brandon growled.

Only the idea that a waste of a man would avoid the fate he deserved made Brandon’s skin crawl. He killed Greta out of pure anger, he tortured Marigold for years, and only God knew how many had suffered under his reign.

“I have every intention to exploit his fear and then teach him what it is to be at someone’s mercy,” Duncan said, his eyes darkening.

And as if calling upon the devil, a group of Runners appeared behind Duncan. They had Johnny in chains and dragged him along to a carriage. For one second, Brandon met Johnny’s eyes. The once powerful man of these docks was bloodied and scorched, bruises were forming all over his face, and his hand was an open wound consumed by fire. But what gave Brandon the satisfaction of his life was that look in his eyes. It was only hours ago that Johnny looked at him, arrogant and sure that he could destroy his life. But now the same man looked at Brandon in utter defeat and fear. Brandon smirked as the Runners pushed him inside the carriage.

“I will continue keeping track of this mission,” Brandon said, his eyes still fixed on that carriage pulling away.

“I did not expect anything less,” Duncan said, turned his back, and left.

Owen placed one hand on his shoulder. Brandon looked at his friend. He didn’t have to say anything, but Owen knew that Brandon thanked him for having his back. Both men nodded in solidarity.

“Go home,” Owen said. “We have things handled here. Take care of your wife. Because the only thing better than having your wife playing the nurse on you,” Owen gave him a wicked smile, “is for you to play doctor with her.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Owen,” Brandon said and turned his back.

“See you soon, Voss!”

Brandon shook his head and made his way to Marigold. Before she could even protest, he lifted her into his arms, police and curious onlookers seeing the great Duke of Voss cradling his Duchess.

“Brandon, I can walk,” Marigold whispered.

“No.”

“I can assure you I still have the ability to walk, and I can prove it to you if you would just let me-”

“No.”

“My feet are fine.”

“They are not fine, and you are not walking,” Brandon said and leaned closer to her ear. “Now you will be a good girl and do as I say.”

Upon hearing that, her jaw dropped, and any objection died in her mouth. Brandon smirked at her, starting to agree that playing doctor with Marigold had its merits.

“You are shameless,” she hissed.

His response was to hold her tighter.

“You are squeezing me,” she said.

“I am not letting go of you.”