“What?”
I try to tell him, but a big hand wraps around my mouth, jerks me back. The limousine screeches forward.
Duncan turns, sees it, jumps out of the way but the front bumper catches his legs, sends him spinning head-over-foot in the air, and he lands with a sickening thud against a concrete pillar, before falling down toward the floor.
I struggle against my captor, throw an elbow behind me, hear a grunt, feel a heavy body. But the hand doesn’t leave my mouth, and he wraps an arm above my belly, lifts me up off the ground.
I slap at his hand, horrified that he’s hurting the baby. Teeth clamped around his finger, I bite down hard, taste bitter metal, and then his hand is free of me, and I scream, “Not so hard! I’m pregnant!”
The man drops me, I turn around and see Frank.
“Frank, you asshole!” I shout, trying to slap him, but he grabs my wrist, spins me around so that my arm is wrapped around my front, and then pulls me back toward him. He grips onto my hair, and when I open my mouth to scream he shoves something inside it, a cloth.
I try to breathe, but in my panicked state barely can.
“Calm down, honey,” he says into my ear. “Breathe through your nose, and stop struggling. Don’t hurt yourself. Don’t hurt your baby.”
You fucking asshole!
The limousine door opens, the driver’s door, and I see a bald dome. Dad steps out, looks angrily at the huge man who gets back into his car.
Those angry eyes swivel straight to me, and he shakes his head as he approaches me.
“You thought you could get away from me?” he asks, slapping his chest. He tilts his head to the side. “You’re family, Deidre. Family don’t abandon family. I would have hunted you down to the end of the Earth.”
Hunted.
I throw a heel at his shin, but he just steps backward, deceptively light on his feet. His old instincts never vanished.
He touches my face, and I try to recoil, retreat from his hands, but I can’t.
“I’ve missed you, Deidre. My own daughter ran away from me.” He shakes his head. “I’ve obviously done a bad job raising you.”
You’re damn right you have!
“You never did understand,” he says, now turning around and walking toward Duncan.
My eyes go to his body, limp on the floor, chest rising and falling quickly.
“Good, you’re still alive,” Dad says. “I’ve got something special planned for you. Put her in the car, Frank.”
I try to push back against the huge bulk urging me forward, but I can’t. A hand shoves my head down, forces me into the back of the limousine.
“Take her to the school,” Dad shouts.
Frank gets in the limousine, starts the engine, takes us carefully around the u-turns down the exit ramps until we reach the ground floor.
Pellets of rain pelt the windows as he drives us into the night.
The last image I have of Duncan is Dad leaning over his body, grinning, his gold teeth flashing.
Chapter Forty Two
Dull pain throbs through my back, my legs. I hear the limousine drive off, but my head is spinning from hitting the ground. Blood drips off my chin.
The hardest hits I’ve ever taken in the cage don’t compare to this, but I’ve got to get up. I’ve got to find a way to get back to Dee.
I roll over, see Glass kneeling beside me. He takes the gun out of my hand, unloads it in front of me, then pulls back the slide. The bullet in the chamber is spit out, clinks on the concrete floor.
Then he smiles nastily at me, flashing gold teeth.
“Is this the first time you’ve ever been on the ground with your opponent above you, Duncan?” he asks. “I don’t recall ever seeing you in this position. It’s sad. Such a short fighting prime.”
I try to get up, wince, rub my rib cage.
“I wouldn’t move,” he says. “Don’t know if you’ve broken any bones. Broken rib might pierce your lung, kill you right here.”
I control my anger, and instead focus on my body. I shut my eyes, listen to the pings of pain pulsing up my nervous system.
I wiggle my toes, move my legs. Nothing feels wobbly, out of place. Then I suck in a breath of air, rub my hands down one side of my ribs and count. I do the other side, count. Nothing broken. Nothing misaligned. Everything is there where it should be.
I touch my head, feel the cut, my hand comes away sticky and red.
“Don’t worry, it’s not deep,” Glass says, taking a fistful of my hair and jerking my head to the side. He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a handkerchief, and presses it against the wound. “But we should stop the bleeding.”
“Where did you take Dee?” I ask.
“Don’t worry. She’ll be safe. She’s my daughter, Duncan. Family is everything. I would never hurt my own daughter.”