Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(81)

I nodded.

“Well, honey,” she said, smiling. “You go on then.”

Shaking, I turned to go, readying to run…

Pain radiated through the back of my skull and my vision went fuzzy.

Then black.

Then I was falling…falling…

And then, there was nothing at all.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Deuce stared at the security footage, feeling nauseous. It was happening all over again. Someone he loved had been taken from right under his f*cking nose.

For the fifth time in a row, he watched as Mama Vi smiled at Danny, then Danny, looking scared shitless, turned away, then that f*cking black bitch pulled her piece and slammed the butt of her gun into the back of his daughter’s skull.

Danny’s eyes went wide…

His chest went vice-f*cking-tight.

And he watched as his daughter crumpled to the ground.

Breathing rapidly through his nose, his heart pounding in his throat, he tightened his grip on the bar top, tighter and tighter until the wood began to creak, splitting beneath his hands.

“That bitch is goin’ to ground,” he said quietly, trying to breathe through the crushing pain in his chest.

“I’m gonna f*ck her with a baseball bat in every motherf*ckin’ hole she’s got, then I’m gonna cut her into pieces, startin’ with her feet, workin’ my way up, makin’ sure she stays alive as long as possible.”

Nobody said a word.

“I wanna hear her scream,” he continued, still staring at the computer screen, watching as Mama Vi grabbed hold of Danny’s arm and dragged her off and out of sight of the cameras.

“I wanna f*ckin’ record her screamin’ and bleedin’ so I can jerk the f*ck off to it after she’s f*ckin’ dead.”

“Baby,” Eva said softly, slipping her arm around his waist. “We’re gonna get her back.”

Yeah, they were. His one saving grace was knowing Danny was, in fact, alive. If Mama Vi had wanted her dead, Danny would have been dead the second contact had been made, if not sooner. The bitch wanted something and she’d lifted his daughter to get it.

But he wasn’t stupid. Danny was only leverage, dead weight after Mama Vi got what she wanted. And what she wanted was him. He’d been playing this game long enough to know a revenge vendetta when he saw one. As far as Mama Vi was concerned, it was his fault she’d lost her brother and her business. He’d gone to Preacher; he’d put the wheels in motion.

And she wanted him dead.

And once she had him, Danny was as good as dead.

He turned to his boys; aside from ZZ, every last one of them was here. Even Jase and Hawk. They weren’t speaking to each other, but they were here. Because no matter the bullshit, a brother was a brother and you didn’t forsake your brother or his family.

“Suit the f*ck up and get the f*ck out. She’s gotta be holed up somewhere in town. You get wind of anything, a f*ckin’ whisper of somethin’ not right, you check in then check it the f*ck out.”

While his boys scattered, he turned to the one man that had remained behind. The one who looked as maniacal as he felt.

Turning away from Ripper, he pulled his cell phone and smokes from his cut. He placed the phone on the counter in front of him and lit up a smoke. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

He sucked that shit down in record time and lit up smoke number two.

By smoke number five, he was ready to jump out of his skin.

“Why the f*ck hasn’t she called?”

Deuce didn’t answer Ripper. They both knew why she hadn’t called. She was playing the fear card. Making them crazy waiting, wanting them more focused on getting Danny back than anything else. Then she’d use it against them.

It was working.

Fuck.

He had to keep it together.

He had—

His phone started vibrating.

danny calling flashed on the screen.

“Game on,” he growled, hitting answer.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
My body heavy and sluggish, my vision blurred, my head throbbing and ears ringing, I tried to focus on my surroundings. It was dark and I couldn’t see much, but I could smell everything. And wherever I was smelled like urine and feces and something else I didn’t recognize. Something that smelled like a cross between rotting meat and…cat litter…and a sweet sort of smell. Sweet in a bad way, like a putrefied, sickly sweetness.

The more I inhaled the sicker I felt, and soon I was gagging and then breathing faster and faster, trying not to throw up. That’s when I tried to move, tried to curl in on myself, cover my nose and mouth with my hand.

And found I couldn’t.

My wrists were bound together.

Confused, I tried to bring my arms up, my legs jerked instead. Now panicking, I tried to lift my arms again toward my head, pulling harder this time and again my legs jerked.

I was hog-tied.

Why was I hog-tied?

“Honey, I wouldn’t be movin’ around too much if I were you. The last man who was in your predicament is still there. What’s left of him, anyway. Some dead animals too.”

I jerked toward the familiar voice, realizing instantly what had happened. The woman in the parking lot, the fear, the exploding pain in my head…

And with my memories came awareness of my surroundings, and suddenly I could feel everything. The slimy surface beneath my cheek, the searing pain in the back of my head, my hair matted, sticking to my neck and…oh god, the smell.