Page 61 of Guarding Salvation

“You taunted him, you led him on for weeks in your slutty clothes. He told me how much you wanted it.”

“I said no. He raped me.” Lana was standing taller now, her conviction confusing him, making him doubt the truth but he knew what she was doing. She was trying to confuse him, to make him doubt his brother’s character.

“Stop, I won’t let you lie to me. Bram killed him because he was jealous, and he got away with it. Now I’m going to make sure he hurts just like I have for the last ten years.”

“Listen, Boyd, you don’t need to do this.”

“I do and you need to shut up or I’m going to put a bullet in your belly and kill the brat you’re carrying. Let your kids find you dead in a pool of your own blood like I watched my brother be beaten to death.”

He saw sympathy in her eyes, and it made him angrier. How dare she pity him. He knew he couldn’t take her with him too, much as he wanted to but he could only cover tracks for one of them, and this one would be quicker despite her injury.

“Here, gag yourself with this.” He threw a scarf at her and watched her pick it up and secure it over her mouth. “Now sit on the floor and if you try and run, she dies.”

With his eyes and gun trained on Aoife, he tied Lana’s legs and feet and dragged her to the other side of the bed.

Through tear-filled eyes she watched her, her eyes begging him to relent, to leave. He could see why his brother had wanted her. Lana was beautiful with a regal grace that drew men to her.

Turning his back on her, he grabbed Aoife by the arm and pulled. She whimpered as she fell into him, putting her against his hardness and making him feel powerful.

“Let’s go.”

Boyd pushed on the panel that opened the tunnel door and, using the flashlight on his phone, peered inside. Satisfied it was clear, he shoved Aoife in first and, with one last look at Lana, the cause of all his pain, he left. He would’ve liked to have stayed and spent some time showing her just how much hurt she’d caused him with her lies but he couldn’t, and Bram was the real target.

He’d been the one to murder Ray, to end his life. He was the one who deserved every inch of pain coming his way. He got to watch Aoife being handed over to her father, who from a few searches he’d done, Boyd knew was the devil personified. Regret tinged him that she’d suffer, but that was of no concern to him. He just wanted revenge on Bram and the huge fucking payday so he could restart his life somewhere else with a clean slate. Maybe he could go to Mexico and spend his days on the beach with women doing his bidding.

But first, Bram needed to die at his hand and suffer for every punch he’d ever inflicted on Ray, and for leaving him without his adored brother to grow up in that hell that was his family life.

As the tunnel wound lower, Aoife lost her footing a couple of times and he had to grab her.

“Stop fucking messing around. Or do I need to remind you what I’ll do to Lana and her brats if they catch up to us?”

Aoife shook her head and managed to make it the rest of the way without slipping or stumbling. As they got outside, he pushed her roughly behind him, not wanting to give her a chance to run. He listened intently to the silence outside, waiting to catch a hint that the alarm had been raised but heard nothing but blessed silence.

Satisfied that his luck was still running, he pushed open the door and dragged Aoife into the early morning darkness. The cold hit him like a whip as the rain lashed the land and the wind blew the frigid cold across his skin.

“Move.”

With his hand wrapped tight around Aoife’s upper arm, he yanked her towards the edge of the estate lawn and into the cut-through that led to the woods. The gravel and grass would hide his tracks with the help of the rain but the deeper they moved into the woods, the more careful he needed to be to make sure they couldn’t be easily followed.

He knew Bram was an expert tracker, but he was better. He’d been working towards this for years, making his plans, learning the land. He knew every tree or curve like his own face.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he reached the place he’d set up for them to wait until Doyle came through.

Dragging a shivering Aoife into the cave, he pushed her down onto the sleeping bags he’d been using for the past few days as he slept in this cold hell, waiting for the perfect moment. He’d known with patience it would present itself and it had.

“Here, this should warm you up.” The rain had soaked through her nightclothes, soaking her to the bone. She shivered so hard he worried she might pass out. Boyd draped a fur blanket around her shoulders, and she looked at him with gratitude but remained silent, her mouth still gagged.

He needed to make a phone call and then he could untie the gag and feed her. He didn’t need his golden goose dead before she could get him the cash to change his life.

Stepping to the edge of the narrow cave, Boyd hit dial on the number he’d been given for Doyle. After two rings it was picked up.

“Boyd, what do you have for me?”

He didn’t like dealing with Conlan, the man was evil personified, even more so than Doyle and that was saying something. Conlan was creepy and killed for fun. At least with Doyle, it was merely business.

“Get Doyle to call me back in two minutes. I have his daughter.” Boyd hung up, his hand shaking slightly.

Moments later his phone rang, and he tried not to smile in triumph.