Page 113 of Pucked Around and Found Out

Cold metal snaps around my wrists.

Handcuffs.

“Bold words from a man in restraints,” Fiona observes.

“These restraints won't last forever,” I promise her. “And when I get out—and I will get out—you're the first person I'm coming for.”

She turns to her agents. “Put him in the vehicle. If he resists, tase him.”

“You don't have the balls⁠—”

Pain explodes through my body as electricity courses through my nervous system. I drop to my knees, muscles seizing, unable to do anything but endure the agony.

When it stops, I'm gasping, but the rage hasn't diminished.

“Get him up,” Fiona orders.

They haul me to my feet and start dragging me toward the SUV.

“This changes nothing,” I spit at her. “You're a dead woman walking.”

“Xaden!” That's Ken again, and I see him struggling against four agents. Blood streams from his nose where one of them hit him. “Let him go!”

“Stand down!” one of the agents shouts, pressing a gun to Ken's temple.

“Stand the fuck down!” I roar at my men. “That's a goddamn order! Don't give this cunt the satisfaction!”

Ken's face contorts with fury and helplessness, but he stops struggling.

They're loading me into the SUV when I hear the car door open behind us.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

Cas.

I twist to see him trying to climb out of the vehicle, his casted leg making it awkward, crutches clattering.

“Cas, get back in the fucking car,” I order.

But he ignores me, hobbling forward on his crutches, his face a mask of rage.

“You think you can just take him?” Cas snarls at Fiona. “You stupid bitch⁠—”

“Caspian Vought,” Fiona says, and something shifts in her expression. A smile that makes my skin crawl. “I was hoping you'd make an appearance.”

“Fuck you, Fiona,” Cas spits.

“Such hostility,” she tsks. “And here I thought we were making progress in our arrangement.”

“Cas, get back in the fucking car!” I shout, but it's too late.

Agents swarm him, knocking the crutches away, and he goes down hard. They haul him up, ignoring his grunt of pain as his casted leg drags.

“Careful with that leg,” Fiona says mockingly. “Wouldn't want to damage such a valuable asset.”

They cuff him and drag him toward the same SUV they're loading me into.

“Let them go!” Andrade roars, trying to break free, but an agent slams the butt of a rifle into his stomach. He doubles over, gasping.