Before he knew what was happening, the messenger felt his arm being grabbed and found himself being dragged into the abandoned bank.
He felt a sense of relief flooding through him. They believed him!
That belief lasted about three seconds. Right up to the point where he found out that the abandoned bank was not quite so abandoned after all. Dark figures moved in the shadowy hallway, surrounding him.
"Diego. Brass." Cobra nodded to two of the figures. "I hope you are well?"
A grin flashed in the darkness, and a massive man stepped forward. "Well enough, now that you've brought us a toy to play with." The gentleman called Brass chuckled and cracked the knuckles he was apparently named for.
"Wolf." Cobra nodded at another man, whose ruggedly handsome face made the Spaniard jerk back. He could practically see the words $100,000 — Dead or Alive above his head. "I hope you are miserable as usual?"
The man who had killed over seventy-two people looked as if the number would soon become seventy-three. Then, without a word, he turned away.
"Grumpy bastard," someone chuckled.
"Still..." The vicious grin on Brass's face widened, and his eyes fastened on the messenger as if he were a snack. "Leaves all the more fun for us, doesn't it?"
The Spaniard took an involuntary step back. Which wasn't really sufficient, since Brass took three very voluntary steps forward. Raising his metal-studded fists, he reached out—only to be stopped by Cobra's outstretched arm.
"I'm afraid you can't, my friend. He has a message for the leader."
Again the Spaniard breathed a sigh of relief. That's right. He was a messenger. He was needed.
"Does he need his legs to deliver a message?"
"Unless you want to carry him down the stairs."
Immediately, Brass stepped back. He levelled a glare at the Spaniard. "Move, Dago! Use those damn legs of yours, or I'll crush them!"
With such a friendly invitation, how could one possibly refuse?
Surrounded by men whose collective heads were worth more than half a million dollars, the messenger was led down into the cellar. Soon, he found himself in front of a steel door that almost looked like the door to a...safe?
Cobra, who seemed to notice his incredulous gaze, gave a low chuckle. The criminal's poisonous eyes raked over the Spaniard as if he could read his every thought.
"There is a reason why the leader is still alive after over a hundred bounty hunters aimed for his head. Always thinking in a way no others can. Never taking foolish risks."
"Or prisoners," Brass added with a smirk.
Reaching for the door, he pushed it open, and grabbed the Spaniard by the scruff of his neck. With a shove, the poor man was sent stumbling into the dark interior of the safe that was only dimly lit by a single lamp. Other than that, the only thing in the room was a cot, a rough desk and a chair. There wasn't a single person in this pla—
"I hear you have a message for me?"
The Spaniard nearly jumped out of his skin. Whirling around, he came face-to-face with a tall, blond, blue-eyed man. A moment later he wished he hadn't. The man's face was the face of an angel. But his eyes...
His eyes were the eyes of a devil.
The Spaniard swallowed and nodded. This was it. The moment he'd been waiting for. The moment he'd ridden across mountains and deserts for.
YOU ARE READING
New Storm Rising
RomanceThis was NOT how Lilly had expected her honeymoon to go. Ever since their ship left the shore, she has been feeling dizzy, irritable and nauseous...and what the heck are these strange cravings she keeps having? Her brand-new husband is no help eith...
