Page 40 of The Captive
I heard them before I saw them—boots pounding on the ground, approaching fast from multiple directions.
"Run!" I finally shouted to Aoife, who was watching in horror.
She hesitated only a moment before bolting toward the tree line. I scrambled to my feet, preparing to follow…
But I was too late. Three mercenaries burst into the clearing, weapons raised. The first tackle brought me crashing down. I fought viciously, managing to throw off one attacker, but the other two overwhelmed me. To be honest, I let them to give Aoife a head start.
A fist connected with my temple, dazing me. Through blurred vision, I saw more hunters go in the direction Aoife had gone and drag her back. Fuck. She fought like a wildcat, but one of them bested her, bringing a knife to her throat and finally subduing her.
"Alex!" she cried out as they subdued her. My name on her lips…
My last clear thought before another blow landed was that I had failed her again.
I regained consciousness in stages.First came sound—the creak of old wood, the distant cry of a night bird, the murmur of voices. Then sensation—my arms pulled tight behindme, binding me to a chair, the throb of pain where I'd been struck.
Finally, my vision cleared, and I took in my surroundings. We were in a barn—the same one where the twins had taken Cressida during that fateful hunting game I’d taken part in. The irony wasn't lost on me.
Across the spacious interior, Aoife hung suspended from chains that dangled from the ceiling, her feet barely touching the ground. My face felt caked with dirt and I tasted copper in my mouth, blood from a split lip, but her eyes—when they met mine—still burned with defiance.
Three men stood around us, masks removed now that their prey was secured. I recognised none of them, but their stances and builds suggested military backgrounds. These weren't amateurs playing a game; they were professionals.
"Look who's awake," said the tallest of the three, noticing my consciousness returning. "Thought we might have hit you too hard."
"What a shame that would have been," another added with a cruel smile.
The third stepped toward Aoife, circling her like a shark. "Boss lady said to keep you both alive until she arrives," he noted, his voice deceptively casual. "Didn't specify much beyond that." Another piece of shit like Mason.
I subtly tested my bonds. The cable ties bit into my wrists, offering no give. The chair was bolted to the floor. I looked around, taking in my surroundings, recording every detail.
"Leave her alone," I said, my voice hoarse.
The men laughed.
"Or what?" asked the tall one, coming to stand in front of me. "You'll glare us to death?"
I met his gaze steadily. "Have you been to the cottage by the way? When I get free—and Iwillget free—I'm going to make what happened to your friends seem like a caress."
The hunter's smile faltered slightly before he regained his composure. "Big talk from a man tied to a chair."
Turning, he joined his companion near Aoife.
"Pretty little thing, isn't she?" he commented, reaching out to slide a finger down her face. She flinched. "Kinda hot up close, if one likes small titties." His gaze fell to her chest, as if gauging the size through her sports bra.
Aoife spat in his face.
The man wiped the spittle away, then backhanded her across the face. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, where her split lip was now bleeding worse.
I seethed, burned with rage.
A primal emotion roared to life within my very bones. Again, despite everything—despite knowing who Aoife was and the fact she was up to no good by trespassing on this property—seeing her in pain awakened something visceral inside me.
I hated the sight of her now, fighting back tears, refusing to show fear even as the sorry excuses for men circled her like vultures.
"I will have your head for this," Alexander warned, trying to draw their attention back to him. "Or maybe Beatrice O’Brien will take care of that. She wants us alive, remember? She won’t take kindly to insubordination."
The tallest one turned back to him with a chuckle. "Alive doesn't mean untouched. And like this bitch here, she’s just a woman, no matter who she is."
“Seems you have never had a run-in with the O’Briens or the Flanagans, you fool,” I mocked.
