need to use them wisely.”
I like the way he thinks. “They usually come down in pairs. The main man—”
“Saul Kincaid. He’s the twin brother of a man Pip dispatched.”
Kincaid? I remember something about the case when I’d been a prospect, but not having my patch, hadn’t known details. But at least I now know the reason why they’re so anxious to get their hands on Prez. I file the information away.
“One of the men who entered your house is Christian McGregor.” He pauses, but I’ve never heard that name before. When I look mystified, he adds, “He could be the other man here now.”
“How did you find that out?” As far as I knew, all the cameras would have stopped working.
“Honor got the DNA in his blood examined.”
Idly I rub the graze on my arm. “Blood?” I frown. “I don’t remember.”
Road grins. “Though you have no recollection, I bet you lashed out when they were chloroforming you. You probably got in a lucky shot.”
I hope I broke his fucking nose, but none of the men I’ve seen looked like they’d had one broken recently. Hopefully, at least, I’d bloodied it.
“Don’t know a last name, but the man who shot me is called Dean.”
Again, another name which means nothing to me.
Road stands, rubs his leg, then stretches. “It’s your play, tell me where you want me.”
Again he goes up in my estimation as he asks my advice, acknowledging that I’ve been trained in combat, and know more about these types of situations than he does. My brothers in the MC would act the same way, but they learned to trust my skills during my prospecting time. Road’s going just on what he’s seen to date, and what I’ve told him. It saves time not having to convince him.
I frown, then suggest a few ways this could play out, looking at outcomes and adjustments. If this happens, I’d do this, Road that, if that happens, then we’ll work it another way. By the time we finally hear footsteps approaching, I’m pretty certain we both are word perfect in our parts.
Road is lying huddled in a heap, and I’m on the bed, with my hand again appearing restrained in its cuff.
I’d discounted waiting by the door. As soon as it was opened a crack, they’d see I wasn’t on the bed which is in direct line of sight and that would be sufficient warning for them to slam that door, and lock it again, leaving us both trapped. Like counters sliding down a snake, we’d be back at square one. What we’ve got planned should see us on a ladder instead.
Glancing over at Road, I realise now he’s here and has freed me, I have a real chance of getting out of here alive.
I owe Road my life. While we wait, my heart beating fast in anticipation, I know there’s one way I’d like to thank him.
But can I let myself make that mistake?
27
Road…
Awkwardly, I lie on my back as that’s the only way I can disguise I’m no longer tied. In my head, I go over Swift’s plan once again. It goes against everything I am to let a woman do my fighting for me, and if Weston appears, then my gut tells me it should be me who tries to take him down, keeping Swift out of harm’s way. Then I remember how quickly she took out Stormy and know I have to trust her confidence in herself.
When I hear the bolt shoot in the door, I prime my muscles, ready to push myself up.
Three men enter, Weston, a man I haven’t seen before who I suspect might be Christian, and Saul Kincaid, twin to his rapist dead brother. It’s his eyes that land on me, his mocking grin showing he suspects nothing from the way I’m lying, accepting I could have turned to keep my eye on the door.
“You’re a stupid fucker. There’s no one with you.” He comes over and kicks me hard in the side.
I let out an oomph and will myself to stay still as though I really am incapacitated, knowing I’ve got to let Swift make her move first. She’s only got one chance at taking Weston, lunging for him when he least expects it.
Apart from the narrowing of my eyes, I say nothing. Swift, I notice, doesn’t react. As far as they know, she’s still deaf.
“If Pip knows about this place and you’ve disappeared, it’s time we moved this on.” Kincaid’s tone is sneering. “Thanks