Page 83 of Disavowed

Before the day is out, I’m going to kill Smith and Jack.

He knew it with every fiber of his being. First he had to find a way to get Daisy to safety.

Smith sent him a sadistic smile. “I took out your boy Gonzalez. I knew you weren’t on the level, motherfucker.”

Jack shoved him roughly into another chair next to the door, then yanked his arms backward and bound them tightly with thin rope that cut into his wrists.

He needed to stall for time. Time to allow Gray and the troops to get there while he figured a way out. He glared at Smith. “It was you in the SUV outside Daisy’s apartment. You’ve been watching her.”

“I’ve been watching all of you. Good thing, too. Jackie-boy, here, was too dumb not to see you were bullshitting him, and even dumber not to see you were fucking his woman.”

“Shut up.” Jack’s eyes simmered with a deadly glow.

“Maybe,” Smith added, shifting his gaze from Jack’s to Dom’s, “I’ll let Jack be the one to put a bullet in your brain. That way I’ll have more time to spend with your lady friend. She’s one hot mama.” He began stroking Daisy’s hair with the back of his hand, and she flinched at his touch. “I can already imagine her legs wrapped around my ass while I fuck her long and hard.”

Beside Dom, Jack vibrated with rage, clenching and unclenching his fists, a muscle in his cheek twitching furiously. “Get your fucking hands off her.”

Dom gritted his teeth and fought back a growl. The idea of that asshole—either of those assholes—touching her was driving him out of his mind. Which was exactly what Smith was trying to accomplish. Sadistic motherfucker.

“You twisted piece of shit,” he snarled. It killed him that he was ten feet away and couldn’t do a damn thing to help while Daisy strained futilely at her bonds.

Smith locked eyes with him as he trailed his knuckles down Daisy’s cheek to the side of her neck. “Such a fine piece of ass deserves a real man.”

“Don’t touch me, you disgusting pig.” She raised her chin, glaring up at Smith. “If you were a man you wouldn’t need to resort to rape to get your rocks off.”

Smith’s hand froze, as if Daisy’s defiance was the last thing he expected. “You bitch.” He took a step back, then raised his arm, about to backhand her, when the hotel room’s outer door shut and a man wearing a dark raincoat walked into the bedroom. The man removed his coat to reveal an army dress uniform.

Colonel Bud Marsden.

Not that Dom was surprised, but confirming Marsden was indeed the leader of the Pyramid brought with it a grim satisfaction.

“Stand down, Mr. Smith,” Marsden ordered in a cold, hard voice.

Smith stiffened, his entire body practically saluting. Jack’s response was nearly the same.

Marsden had aged significantly since Dom had seen him last, no longer looking anything like photos he’d seen on the internet, but he still retained the same undeniable air of strength and authority. At nearly six foot two, Dom figured, the man was still lean and hard, although his face was severely lined and his short crop of hair was pure white. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and there was a yellow pallor to his skin. It reminded Dom of his great uncle who died last year from cancer.

“Detective Carew.” Marsden’s voice was rough as he addressed Dom by his real title. The colonel put his hand to his scarred throat. “I was saddened to hear that Jimmy Gonzalez was alive and well. It confirmed Mr. Smith’s suspicion that you are still on active duty with the NYPD. Too bad, really.” The colonel paused to take a long drink of water from the bottle in his hand. “I had high hopes for you to take over Jack’s position.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said as the colonel sat on the edge of the bed next to the rifle.

Marsden couldn’t have been more than fifty but looked more like seventy. He appeared old and tired but with a gleam of determination in his gray eyes.

“You don’t plan to get out of here alive,” Dom said.

“I have no illusions about that.” Marsden lifted his sleeve to glance at his watch. “Just as I have no doubt that your backup is on the way. Any good undercover officer always has backup, and you, Detective, are one of the best. No one’s managed to infiltrate my team before. Congratulations.” The colonel tipped his head in mock salute.

As much as he needed to look at Daisy to see how she was doing, he couldn’t. It took every ounce of concentration to focus on what he needed to do. Find a loophole, some avenue of compromise with the colonel so he’d let her go.

“You survived the explosion.” Keep him talking. “I’m guessing you made it into the mountains and managed to link up with one of your drug-smuggling contacts.”

Marsden nodded. “The last thing my contacts wanted was for their American dealer to die in the mountains. Sadly, there was a price to be paid for remaining hidden.” He touched his hand to his throat. “Shrapnel damaged my voice box, and without medical attention the scarring became permanent.”

“My condolences about your son,” Dom said. Ironically, he really did feel sorry for the man over the loss of his only child. “But killing Shane isn’t the way to get revenge.”

“You’re right. Which is precisely why I’m here.” His thin lips tipped up at the corners into a grim smile. “Christopher Shane took from me the only person I ever loved. My son, Billy, had his whole life ahead of him. He could have been anything he wanted to be in life. A doctor, a lawyer, a husband. He was my heir. My only child.”

Marsden was breathing hard and paused to drink again from the bottle. Dom got the sense that the man’s health was even worse than he’d originally thought.