In that look, he somehow tells me everything will be okay. Or maybe, that’s what I want to believe, too terrified that I desperately cling to false hope.
The door behind me slams shut and locks. The vibration sends a shiver down my spine. The thick, malodorous smell in this room is rich in layers of fear-stench, unwashed bodies, piss, vomit, and blood. It’s overwhelming and makes me sway while trying not to hurl. The noxious stimuli is a physical assault and layered upon that is something worse.
The acrid coppery tang of blood is so fresh, I taste it in the back of my throat. I gag and nearly spew the contents of my stomach all across the floor.
The two goons take up position beside Liam while Marco spins toward me. His face twists and I draw back, horrified by the visage of a man I thought I knew.
“You have nothing to fear from me.” Marco strolls across the room until he stands toe to toe with me. “Your mother wants you alive, and that’s the way you’ll stay. Behave and Sybil will stay that way too.” His attention shifts to my mother, who makes a choking sound at that last comment.
“That’s not what we agreed.” My mother’s eyes practically pop out of her face. Her beautiful face twists, but Marco silences her with a single upraised finger.
“Her life for her friend’s.” A stare-off commences between the two of them. He tilts his head sideways as a grin spreads across his face. “That’s my price, but we can renegotiate terms.”
“That won’t be necessary.” My mother snaps back at him, eyes storming with fury and hatred.
What the hell?
I try to piece together what that means, but Marco’s despicable mouth keeps flapping, spilling venom into the air.
“As for your fiancé …” His lip lifts into a sneer. “His fate depends on the answers he gives. I’ll grant him an easy death, or something much more satisfying.”
“Kill him and you get nothing from me.” My fists curl, tightening until my fingernails cut into my skin.
“You have nothing I need.” He clucks at me; tut-tut-tut. “Milo really did you a disservice letting you believe your life was yours to decide. Sybil lives by my pleasure. She suffers by my pleasure. Now you do as well.” Once again, his gaze cuts to my mother.
I’m too slow to see the expression she returns, if any, but I sense Sybil is a sore spot between them.
“We had a deal …” My mother grinds out the words.
“And I’ve had a change of heart.” He points toward me. “Your daughter is too high-strung. This is how we control her.”
“You could keep the man alive … Kill Sybil as we agreed.” My mother fires back. “If she loves him …”
Kill Sybil? My mother wants Sybil dead? Why?
Then it hits.
My mother’s jealous.
Jealous of Sybil.
Because he took her virginity? That was years ago. Unless …
“Silence!” Marco’s shout reverberates painfully in my ears as it bounces off the walls and amplifies.
I wince while my mother grinds her teeth, clearly upset by Marco’s command. She spins around and marches to the far wall. Arms folded, she leans against one of the few unstained spots of concrete and glares at Marco.
“She’s right.” I’m not afraid to go up against Marco. “If you kill him, you’ll get nothing from me, and you want something from me.” I snarl at Marco, furious and determined to make him pay for his part in murdering my father. He wants the Belvedere back. He wants that and so much more.
“I’m offering you a gift.” He runs his fingers through wavy, black hair, combing them into some semblance of control.
“Gift? In what twisted world is Liam’s death a gift?”
My attention cuts back to Liam. He gives me nothing. There’s no encouragement. There’s no warning. There’s nothing. It’s as if he’s trying to disappear.
Then I get it. He’s buying time by not drawing attention to himself. In letting my uncle engage with me, he drags out the seconds, piling them up behind us.
Time is what we need; time for the Guardians to launch a full-scale assault.
“Because, my sweet, darling niece … you get to decide how he dies. Are we going to do this slow? Or …”
“Maria …” Liam’s softly spoken word draws my gaze. “Don’t listen to a word he says. Have faith.”
“Faith?” Marco tosses his head back and belts out a cackling laugh. “You’re going to need a lot more than belief in the supernatural to get you out of this.” His deep, throaty growl raises the hairs at the back of my neck.
“You’re nothing but a piece of shit I’m going to permanently remove from this world.” Liam spits on the ground, emphasizing his point.
The urge to do the same and spit in Marco’s eye overwhelms me, but I resist the temptation. There’s no need to make Marco any angrier than he is, but there is a desperate need to stall.
“Tie him down.” Marco redirects his gun, aiming for Liam’s chest.
All I need to do is get free of the zip ties and gain control of one of the guns. I didn’t lie. My father enrolled me in every self-defense course possible, and after his death, I continued to learn. Getting out of zip ties is child’s play.
As for my defensive training, I’ve never gone up against four people before. If the men holding Liam down get their hands on me, I’m done. I can probably take Marco out, but not with those two in the room.
The whirring in my ear is back.
The Guardians are on their way.
48
LIAM
While listening to Marco’s conversation with Maria, it’s clear Sybil means something to him. An argument, or arrangement, occurred between him and Maria’s mother about Sybil’s fate, and he just reversed it.
It’s a betrayal that cuts deep … if I’m reading the expression on Muriel’s face right. And I’m pretty damn certain if looks could kill, Marco would be a dead man right about now.
Unfortunately, that concludes their conversation, which means it’s time for Marco to turn his attention to me. I have no idea how long it’ll take Mitzy and the rest of my team to come up with an action plan, but it’s not going to be easy, or quick.
Which means, my life’s about to really suck.
Grin and bear the suckage!
It’s a phrase we used often during BUDS.
As for my current state, let the torture begin. I’d rather get started than sit around waiting for it.
“You’re going to tell me about your employers. What they know? What they’re doing sniffing around me? And what their next move will be. Most importantly, I’m going to send one hell of a message.” He stops in front of me, expression fierce, eyes as crazy as the lunatic he is, and smacks his fist into his opposite palm. It’s a power move meant to intimidate and instill fear.
I’d laugh, but I’m not a total idiot. There’s no reason to poke the bear. I resort to flowery language.
“Fuck off.” I have a role to perform, and I’m going to give this asshole one hell of a performance.
Marco may not know about stress positions.
Griff loves those.