The Price (House of Sin #5) - Elisabeth Naughton Page 0,10

my unruly hair around my face as I closed the car door. Marco and the pilot slowly pulled Luc out of the back of the vehicle.

I held my breath, unable to move, unable to help. He was wearing nothing but loose gray sweatpants riding low on his hips. No shirt, no shoes, no socks. His dark hair was damp, his muscular body limp, his limbs not seeming to work. His head hung forward as each man slung an arm over their shoulders and supported his weight. And the groan that echoed my direction was laced with a pain I felt deep in my own bones.

My heart pounded hard as they carried him toward the jet. I turned to follow, desperate to touch him and see for myself he was breathing. Then I saw his back—the skin broken open in long red strips, swollen, oozing, bleeding—and all that sickness I’d been holding back surged right up my throat.

“Oh fuck....” I jerked forward, braced my hands on my knees, and gagged, dry heaving because there was nothing left in my stomach.

Something warm wrapped my arm, tugging me up. Before I knew what was happening, I was being pulled forward.

“Breathe, Natalie. One step at a time.” Dazed, I glanced to my right, where Felicity was pulling me with her toward the plane, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. “We don’t have time to waste. You can do this.”

I wasn’t sure how. I could barely think. Didn’t know where I was. The world spun around me. All I could see were those oozing cuts on Luc’s back. All I could hear were his groans of pain mixed with the high-pitched shriek from that kitten.

My head grew light. Something pressed against my back and pushed me forward. Vaguely, I was aware of metal beneath my feet. Of plush dark walls around me.

A clank echoed, like a heavy door closing, then I heard Felicity say, “Did you file a flight plan?”

“Yes,” a man answered with a clipped British accent. “But I gave them a bum destination.”

“Good. We have to go. Like yesterday.”

“I’m on it. This is going to be a quick takeoff. Might get rough.”

The man moved away from me. I was still having trouble seeing. Didn’t know where he’d gone.

“Get her secured,” someone said.

A hand closed over my arm, then tugged me forward, down a short hallway. “This way, Natalie.”

Felicity. That was Felicity talking to me. She shoved me into a seat and buckled my belt. “Take this.” She pushed something rectangular and paper into my hands, then pressed my head toward my knees. “Just breathe.”

“Fee!” Marco called from somewhere behind me, his voice deep and tinged with an Italian accent much like Luc’s. “I need you to help me hold him in here!”

“I’m coming!”

Felicity rushed away from me. I turned to look after her and realized we were moving. Blurry scenery I couldn’t focus on rushed by the windows. My gaze drifted down to my hands, to what she’d given me, to what I realized was a barf bag.

The sounds of that ritual, the crack of the whip, Luc’s agonizing groans... They echoed in my head all over again.

Sickness threatened once more. I breathed deep, again and again, fighting the nausea, trying not to give in to what I knew was about to be a massive panic attack—one that would put any I’d had on a stupid boat to shame.

The jet’s engines grew louder. Focusing on that sound, I closed my eyes and tried to bring it to the front of all the other noise. Forced myself to feel the rumble beneath my feet, the g-force pulling on my body as the jet streaked down the runway and lifted off the ground. And as I did, I slowly beat back the fear and panic, gradually felt myself coming back.

Something hard thwacked the wall at the back of the plane. My eyes shot open. A deep grunt and a low groan followed.

“Merda,” Marco yelled. “I’ve got him now.”

“Are you sure?” Felicity asked.

I twisted toward the doorway, my pulse shooting up as my eyes widened. Some kind of struggle was happening in the back room. Something I wasn’t sure I was ready to see.

“Porca troia, Luc,” Marco mumbled. “Hold still, you figlio di puttana.”

My heart beat double time against my ribs as I freed my seat belt and rose, turning toward the open doorway and whatever was happening in the back room. Hand shaking, I reached for the doorframe and stopped, looking into the bedroom