Stephanie Tyler - Unbreakable

Finally, he pulled the current away and her body went slack. She could move, but she’d paid a price from too many of the Taser’s shocks in such a short period of time.

“You’re mine, bitch.”

“You’ve got that backward—you’re my bitch,” she told him before she kicked him hard in the side of the neck. He lost his balance, Taser and knife went flying and she was up and on him in seconds. She wouldn’t waste this opportunity, so she dove on him, scratching and punching, looking to maim, disable . . . and then she would kill him.

They rolled together, her hand on his Adam’s apple, his hand on her wrist, stopping her from crushing his trachea.

“You’ll never be able to forget me,” he croaked.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Donal. As soon as I kill you, you’ll be completely forgotten.”

He smiled quickly to cover his look of surprise at hearing his real name, then kicked. It caught her on the side of her head and she went down, still holding on to him. That put her in the worst position possible—underneath him.

He had the knife above her throat and she couldn’t move. Fear flooded her and she pushed it back. “What did Drew do to you that made you hate him so much?”

Donal considered that for a long moment, never moving the knife. “He was born with a conscience. I wasn’t. That always seemed to put us on different sides of the fence. Drew always felt too much. His emotions seemed strange to me, and at first, I tried to copy them, but then I gave up. When Father was alive it didn’t matter as much, but once Drew was put in charge, he made it his mission to go after the traffickers.”

“And you didn’t want to.”

“Avery, I didn’t know you cared.”

“Last chance to tell your story.”

“Always the optimist.” The knife’s blade was cold on her skin as he continued. “I wanted to get in with the traffickers. That’s where the real money was. But Drew couldn’t get past what happened to Mother and Julia.”

“And you could?”

“Easily. Father fucked up and we paid the price. End of story. And if Father had simply done what the trafficker had asked—move some of his merchandise to make up for the loss—none of it would’ve happened. Stupid pride, all over people we don’t know, people I certainly don’t give a shit about.”

“Innocent women and children.”

“Nobody’s innocent, Avery. I thought you of all people would understand that. You’re the young one in your family. The one no one told anything to. I was younger by four minutes, but somehow, in this family, that was a lifetime.”

He ripped her shirt open and the look on his face was pure gloat. “It looks perfect. I was hoping you’d have someone decent stitch them up. I tried to be precise in my cuts—I was premed, you know.”

“You’re all asshole. Don’t worry—Gunner will cover those up. His tattoos will be on top of them. He’ll win. He’s always going to win,” she told him.

“That’s what you think.”

“That’s what I know,” she told him, just as Gunner came up behind Donal and grabbed him around the neck, a knife held to his carotid.

“Up, slowly, Donal,” Gunner growled. She swallowed as Donal didn’t move the knife from her throat, not at first, and then he did, dropped it by her side.

As soon as he was halfway off her, she scrambled backward, grabbed the knife and lunged for the Taser too, just in case.

But Gunner had him in a grip. Told her, “You should go.”

“No way. I’m not leaving until he’s dead.”

She met Gunner’s eyes and saw the understanding there, the way she always did.

Gunner’s satisfaction in getting Donal before he could do any more damage to Avery was short-lived when several men came up the stairs, all of them holding automatic weapons.

They weren’t Landon’s men, which could be good, or really fucking bad. Gunner backed up with Landon, and Avery went to his side, slightly behind him. “Who the hell are you?” Gunner demanded.

“I’m Juan Carlos,” the man in the expensive-looking suit said. He didn’t have a weapon, but his men did, and they surrounded Gunner and Avery. “We’ve spoken before.”

They had. Juan Carlos was a businessman in Drew’s circles—he wasn’t a trafficker, but Gunner knew he often helped Drew’s clients with their financial needs once they’d successfully been relocated. Gunner had placed many calls to Juan Carlos over the years, although he remained a mysterious figure. “What are you doing here?”

“I haven’t heard from Drew. That is . . . unusual. I grew worried. I see I was right to be.” Juan Carlos was staring hard at Donal now. “My friend, I’ll take care of this.”

Donal nodded, tried to jerk away from Gunner, but Gunner refused to let him go. He told Juan Carlos, “This isn’t Drew.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Donal spat.

Again, Juan Carlos looked hard at Donal. After a pause, he glanced up at Gunner, looking troubled. “And why would I believe you? Aren’t you a disgruntled former employee?” Juan Carlos made a motion and one of his men moved forward, a gun pointed at Avery. “Let him go and she’ll be unharmed.”

Gunner let him go and Donal preened smugly. “Juan Carlos, I apologize. I gave James a chance when I shouldn’t have.”

Gunner stared at Donal for a second, then grabbed the man’s arm. Donal tried to pull back, but Gunner kept the death grip on him, put Landon’s hand over his crotch.

The man hissed and pulled back like a demon that’d been burned with holy water. And Gunner smiled.

“What the hell’s going on, James?” Donal bit out.

“Drew Landon would’ve given his fortune if I’d touched his cock,” Gunner said, and Juan Carlos was studying them intently.

“I’m not gay,” Donal spat out.

“No?” Juan Carlos asked, as if he’d been waiting for this moment, and suddenly the air around them seemed to shift dramatically. Donal remained frozen in place as Juan approached him. He reached up and stroked hair off Donal’s face and Donal moved to rebuff the gentle gesture. “Do you remember the last time I saw you?”

“Yes. We had a meeting in Cairo,” Donal said confidently.

“Yes, a meeting,” he repeated. “And you missed another one—what happened?”

Donal frowned. “There was nothing in the appointment book, Juan Carlos. I’m so sorry—it won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t.” Juan Carlos had his hand wrapped around Donal’s neck before anyone could blink.

Gunner saw Juan Carlos’s men shift their weapons toward Donal, and Gunner pulled Avery closer to him.

“It was an honest mistake—James has been fucking with my business,” Donal told him.

“The meeting you missed would never have been in any appointment book of Drew’s,” Juan Carlos told him in a fierce voice. “It was a standing appointment. Every three months. And Drew never, ever forgot. Not once in ten years.”

Donal struggled a little, but the bigger man’s grip was tight. Juan Carlos turned to Gunner. “He flirted. I know that. But Drew Landon was mine.”

He turned back to Donal, loosened his grip slightly when he asked, “Where is he?”

“I didn’t know my brother . . . was a fucking faggot,” Donal spat, and in a fast move, he kicked Juan Carlos’s knees out from under him and moved back.

“Don’t shoot him,” Juan Carlos told his men as Gunner advanced on Donal. At that moment, Gunner began to fight like it was for his life. It was for all those times he was made to fight Drew Landon’s guards, all those times he’d been made to do things he hadn’t wanted to. For all those things he’d done willingly too. All his demons were taking themselves out on Donal.

Finally, he pulled back. “Where is Drew?”

Donal laughed, his mouth bloody, teeth broken. “Why? You miss him? Gonna cry at his funeral?”

“I don’t believe he’s dead,” Gunner said through gritted teeth. “You’d have been bragging by now.”

“I don’t remember.” Donal was choking on his own blood. “I do . . . remember . . . killing . . . your . . . bitch. She . . . begged. Called . . . for . . . you.”

Gunner drew his hand that held his weapon back, but Avery caught it, stopped him. “Don’t, Gunner. Please.”

“Let me go, Avery.”

“I won’t. He doesn’t deserve to win this. Please.”

It was her please that got him. He looked up at her. “We can’t let them win. We may hate them, but we can’t let them win by bringing us to their level.”

Gunner looked down at Donal, told him, “You’re useless.” When he pushed up off Donal, he saw Avery staring at Donal. Juan Carlos was staring at her.

“This man hurt you?” Juan Carlos asked her.

“Yes.”

“And you won’t let your boyfriend kill him.”

“We’ve done what we needed to. I won’t put another death on his conscience. I don’t care how justified it is.”

Juan Carlos studied her, and then looked at Gunner. “Drew always liked you. You have to know that.”

“I do,” Gunner said.

“Donal’s the type who would keep Drew alive and suffering,” Juan Carlos said grimly. “Please, go find him. I will deal with this, the way Drew would want me to. I begged him to stop Donal years ago. But he had a soft spot for family.”

“I’m sorry,” Avery told him. Juan Carlos nodded, aimed his weapon at Donal’s head, and Gunner grabbed her hand and headed down the stairs as the first of the shots was fired.

“Any idea where Drew might be? We searched all the floors,” she told Gunner.

“Did you go to the guesthouse?” he asked.

“No. We didn’t see one,” she said. They raced down the stairs, where Dare was on the second floor, just escaping the bindings Juan Carlos and his men no doubt put on him.