Was that a lie? She’d never seen Reyes peddling drugs, or any of the guys closest to him. Some of the others had, though.
“Don’t get all high and mighty. It was ill-gotten money. Reyes and his friends were using the photos in the envelope to blackmail this senator. The money they collected from him was meant to go to Bartolli.”
Oh God. How the hell had this happened?
“He’ll kill us. We’re dead people. Fucking hell! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Grasping hold of her upper arms, he pressed her against the rough brick walls of the alleyway.
“I didn’t tell you because you didn’t need to know. Now, I know you’re upset so I’m going to forgive you for talking to me like this, but you need to watch yourself, Keira.”
“Sorry,” she whispered hastily as fear whispered its way down her spine. “I was just upset to learn that Bartolli is after us. He . . . scares me.”
That was no lie. The bastard freaking terrified her.
“You don’t need to worry, sweetheart.” He ran a finger down her cheek. She shuddered, feeling ill at his touch. “I won’t let him get you. Now, come on. We need to get a car and get out of here before his guys find us.”
* * *
The pain was indescribable.
She could scarcely breathe. Bruised ribs. Maybe broken. Her left eye was so swollen that she could barely open it.
Bruised. Bloody.
Broken.
She was so freaking broken. She gave up. She didn’t care anymore. Whether Bartolli’s goons found her or the Iron Shadows guys did, she was dead. And at this point in time, well . . .
Keira figured that would be a blessing.
With a groan, she attempted to sit. It was then that she noticed that her hands were tied together. She moved her head back to look at the line of rope that went up around the end of the wooden headboard.
Huh. She was tied to the bed. When had that happened?
So it wasn’t enough that she’d been beaten half to death? He had to tie her up as well?
“Dramatic much, Keira,” she muttered to herself. “Not like you can’t take a beating.”
She groaned as she attempted to move into a more comfortable position.
Why hadn’t she done more in her short life? Why hadn’t she tried to find a boyfriend who wasn’t a loser or a psycho?
Was that really too much to ask for? For normal?
What would you do with normal? You’d scare off any man who was normal.
No normal guywould understand her desire to give up control. And not just in the bedroom.
Didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to find normal. And she’d never trust a man enough to let him take charge.
Maybe a woman?
Hm. No. That wasn’t for her, unfortunately. It might be easier if it was. She thought she’d have a better chance of surviving if a woman tried to hurt her.
With a groan, she moved to her other side. Pain slammed through her, bringing a wave of nausea as the world tilted. She breathed through the urge to purge. Why was her memory so fuzzy? Her head was thumping, and she reached up to touch her skull, wincing as she encountered a large bump above her right ear.
Had she hit her head?