Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
But there was a dark fury in Jason’s eyes as he stared at the other man. A murderous electricity seemed to crackle in the air. It whispered that Frey would be lucky to make it out of this room alive.
Plavko had removed the gag and undone my knots, replacing the ties with handcuffs either because he needed something more substantial or because he’d moved his captive at one point.
Frey was still down to his underwear, sitting upright on the edge of the bed, his hands clasping the wrought-iron post. At first glance it looked like he was drenched in sweat, but then I noted the mattress was soaked, plus, a bucket and dripping towel were on the floor nearby.
Tools of Plavko’s torture.
Frey’s face didn’t change when he saw me but, oh, how it was different. Gone was the confidence and the power. He looked fractured. Ready to fall apart at any minute.
He was afraid.
You should be.
Jason reared back and slammed his fist into the side of Frey’s face. The force of it was so tremendous, I was sure the impact hurt his knuckles, and I was proven right when he shook the pain from his hand. The whole time his glare was fixated on the photo canvas hanging over the bed.
I could see now the picture was a fake. Either AI or someone with decent Photoshop skills had created it, but I could understand why it had set him off. I couldn’t tolerate the idea of it either.
“Maybe I’ll burn the whole house down with you inside,” he snarled.
Frey was still reeling when Jason threw a second punch, the shocking slap of skin and bone connecting ringing through the air.
“I probably should have asked,” he said to the tall man who lurked by the patio doors. “Are you finished with him? Did you get what you needed?”
“I got all I’m going to get for now,” Plavko answered, indifferent. “Transport’s on its way.”
Breath caught in my lungs, hanging awkwardly. He wasn’t talking about transporting Frey’s dead body, and the thought made me swallow hard. Jason wanted Frey brought to justice for all he’d done. He wasn’t going to settle for anything else.
What would happen if Plavko stood in the way of that?
Jason stated it as an inarguable fact. “He’s going back to the States.”
Plavko said nothing because his presence spoke volumes in his place. There was an unspoken hierarchy, and he believed he was the authority here. There was no alternative, no scenario where Plavko didn’t get what he needed.
My stomach twisted when Jason moved, unholstering his gun so it could hang at his side. It wasn’t pointed at Plavko, but the threat was there, upping the intimidation by a thousand percent.
“Put that away.” Plavko’s eyes narrowed, and there was an eerie calm to his voice that was disturbing and dangerous. “You’re a long way from home, marshal, and I noticed you’re alone.”
Hadn’t Jason already proven he had difficulty following directions? It was so tense, I could barely breathe.
“The helicopter will be here soon, and we’re taking him in—alive. Until then,” Plavko said, cold and emotionless, “I don’t care what happens.”
He lowered into a chair as if waiting for a show to start.
Immediately Frey screamed, pulling my focus back to the bed.
Oh, my God.
Jason had snapped one of Frey’s fingers back, and now it was bent at an unnatural angle. The pain drove him off the bed and down to huddle on the floor, the handcuffs keeping his arms above his head. It looked like they were raised in surrender.
He looked pathetic.
“Jason!” I yelled when he kicked the man in the stomach.
My whole body trembled. There was a darkness in the man I loved. I’d known it the second I laid eyes on him in the FBI office. But there was goodness in him, too.
And suddenly Plavko’s gun was out, resting casually on his lap even though his finger was on the trigger. Every cell in my body began to shout, to scream in alarm. He seemed to be the type of man who wouldn’t let anything stand in his way. The type of man who found collateral damage acceptable.
“Think about what you’re doing,” he said in warning. “Don’t force me to do something I don’t want to.”
Jason hadn’t put his gun away, and there was nothing but chaos behind his eyes.
The memory of him killing the man in that hotel bathroom flooded my mind, but that was different. That man had been armed, and he’d shot in self-defense.
He looked like he wanted to execute Frey.
“No,” I said softly. “No.”
He glanced at me, and he looked so off balance, I wasn’t sure even he knew what he was doing.
“No,” I repeated.
“He doesn’t deserve to live.”
“I know.” My heart thudded painfully. “But he’s taken so much already.” The man I loved could not be a murderer. “Don’t let him take you, too.”