“Mother of God,” Lachlan mutters, staring ahead. I look to find a huge screen with a projected image on it, the same one they used for assemblies in the auditorium.
Aisling.
Some sick fuck’s got her tied up, a gag in her mouth, and she’s writhing trying to get out of the restraints, her image large and luminous on the big screen for anyone to fucking see. Fury wells up in me like a beast, molten lava clawing at my insides. My hands are clenched into fists, I throw my head back, and I roar, “Where is she?”
“Bloody hell,” Lachlan mutters, blinded as well as I am, my eyes flitting from one thing to the next but she’s nowhere to be seen.
“Camera’s in the back room,” Lachlan says. “All the videography. At least it was when I was here.”
“Jesus.”
I want her out of the hands of whatever sick fuck has her. And I will end him.
“This way, Tier,” Lachlan says, jumping off the stage and running up a ramp that leads to the back, when the amplified sounds of Aisling’s screams fill the theater. My stomach lurches, and my fury intensifies. Jesus.
“It’s a trap, Tiernan!” Her voice nearly deafens me. Someone strikes her to silence her. There’s a sound of flesh on flesh, and she cries out. Red hot rage seeps into my veins. I’m ready to kill for her. Fucking kill.
“Go!” she screams. “Get out!”
Like hell. Lachlan doesn’t even slow, but gets to the back door and breaks it down with me.
The first thing I see is Clifford, sitting placidly in a corner, one ankle propped up on his knee. And there isn’t a man holding Aisling down, but a woman.
She looks up at me and smiles, her eyes cold and hard.
“Isn’t this cute? The man who’s in love with the little whore.”
Aisling whimpers and writhes, and I realize the woman has a needle up to her neck.
“Put that down.” My voice is deadly, my intent clear.
I will kill both of them. All of them. The bloody world if they come between me and her.
She shakes her head. “Aisling thought it another hit of her precious drugs,” the woman says. I realize she’s familiar.
Vivian?
“But it isn’t,” she says with cold menace. “This is a sedative, with enough tranquilizer to kill a small animal, as well as a full grown human.” She poises it at her neck. “I knew you were with the Prime Minister’s son, Aisling,” she says. “I was the one who set you up.”
Aisling shakes her head, her eyes wild with fear, but she keeps herself calm. Christ, do I love her.
“So when they found his body and knew he’d gone missing, I knew exactly who to blame.”
Aisling blinks. Lachlan and I stand, motionless, as Vivian continues.
“You killed him. Tell the truth, Aisling.” Vivian removes her gag.
“He tried to rape me!”
Vivian shakes her head. “Oh, really? He told a different story the night you stole from him.”
“I stole nothing!”
Vivian laughs mirthlessly. “They all say that. Now tell the truth, Aisling. The Prime Minister’s offered fifty thousand euros in exchange for information leading to his son’s killer.”
“I killed him,” she says, her eyes on me before she looks back to Vivian. “He tried to rape me, and it was self-defense.”
No. I can’t allow her to take the hit for me.
Vivian shakes her head. “Tsk, tsk. Now I’ll have to turn you in, see?” She gestures for Clifford to come to her. “It’s a shame I won’t be able to kill her, darling. But we can split the money, can’t we? The Prime Minister’s offering an ample reward.” She snaps her fingers. “Call off your men. The police are already here. Tell them where we are. Only you know I don’t share well. It’s why your wife isn’t with us anymore….”
Clifford’s eyes go wide a split second before Vivian makes her move.
She stabs him in the neck with the tranquilizer. Aisling screams, but Lachlan and I use this to our advantage. He kicks the syringe out of her hand, and it goes skidding across the room. Clifford screams, grabbing at his neck, and lunges at me. I fight him off, but he’s going for Aisling. I spring into action without a second thought. I lift him and throw him against the wall.
There’s a sickening thud, but he rolls and is on his feet again, slower this time as the tranquilizer kicks in. He growls and lunges at Aisling, falling to one knee, but I grab him by the back of the shirt and knee him. He doubles over, clutching his stomach, when I punch him again, and again, until his face is a bloodied mess and his eyes are swollen shut.
I take off my belt and fasten his wrists behind his back, barely tempering the need to wrap it around his neck and strangle him.