Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I didn’t take a full breath until I felt the familiar nylon against my skin. But the sensation only lasted as long as it took for the man to put his fingers around my upper arm again so he could lead me from the room. I felt wobbly and sick to my stomach as I left, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of Ricky’s beating or had to do with the realization that I would never be returning to the room. Even if I wasn’t walking away in the manner I’d planned for so long, it didn’t matter.
We were out.
Rory, Christopher, and I were out.
The reminder that I had no clue where the hell my niece and nephew were was like a bucket of ice water being dumped on my head. The man had said his brother had them but what did that mean, exactly? And Christopher had to be scared out of his mind after what had been done to him…
My knees suddenly buckled as an image of Christopher and Barry hit me.
“Whoa there, I’ve got you,” the man said as his arm went around my waist.
Don’t touch me.
That was what I wanted to say. What I did, though, was lean into the strong body at my side.
It’s just till I can get out of the room.
That was what I told myself, anyway.
But when we reached the clean (relatively speaking) hallway, I didn’t move away from him.
And when we walked by the living room where Clara was passed out on the couch, a syringe in her lax hand, I didn’t let my eyes linger on the depressing scene. I silently wished the woman well, but I couldn’t feel much pity for her.
Not anymore.
She hadn’t been the sweet, kindhearted young woman who’d loved my brother for a very long time now.
It wasn’t until we walked out the front door that I forced myself to pull away from the man at my side. The cool evening air felt good against my skin, but I could feel my strength fading fast. I needed to get to Christopher and Rory.
“Where are they?” I grated as I eyed the stairs that led to the walkway. Holy hell, how was I going to make it down them? There was a railing I could hang on to, but chances were it wouldn’t support my weight.
“I told you, my brother—”
“Where?” I snapped as I looked at my unwanted companion. I fully expected him to get angry at my ungracious tone but if anything, his expression softened.
“They’re safe, Micah. You’re all—”
“Go to hell… Zeus,” I said snidely.
The use of his stage name had some of that softness fading away, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to let him pretend to be anything other than what he was.
MMA fighter, celebrity, man of wealth, didn’t matter. I had witnessed firsthand what he really was.
What does that make you?
I ignored the soft voice in my head and focused on the first step even as I made the demand for the children’s location again. “Where—”
That was all I got out before black dots danced across my line of sight and my head suddenly felt like it was going to explode. I glanced at the man to see if he was covered in black spots too.
“Micah?” was all I heard and then I was falling.
Forever falling.
I expected pain when I landed on the cold concrete but there was none. One moment it felt like my entire body was moving and then there was just warmth and this lightness I couldn’t explain. As the darkness closed in on me and the pain began to recede, I swore I heard what could have only been the voice of God since I was pretty sure I was dying.
But then why the hell was He calling me sweetheart and what con was He talking about?
Chapter Four
Con
Zeus.
God, I hated that fucking name. It was high on the list of things I’d do over in my life if I could. But I’d been a stupid kid hyped up on winning his first fight and when the fight organizer had declared me the winner and asked me what my name was, I’d floundered until the guy had suggested picking a stage name that would be in line with my heritage.
Greek kid meant Greek name and when the guy had suggested Zeus, I’d agreed because I hadn’t been stepping into those rings to build a career. I’d only wanted to save my brother.
Ultimately, my entire image had been built on that name. Unlike most MMA fighters, I was only known by the one name. That part had been on purpose in the beginning because I hadn’t wanted my family to know what I’d been up to in order to earn extra money. Once Lex had recovered, I would have been happy enough to just go by Con, but then tragedy had struck and my brothers and I had suddenly been thrust deep in the underbelly of a world where real names earned you a death sentence.