A Minor Technicality [Completed] *Slowly Editing*

Chapter 41 - ...But I Get Up Again

***A/N - Hey guys! Sorry for such a long delay. I prefer to update at least once a week, but the last month has been nuts! I started a new position at my work, and it's quite a bit more responsibility than I was led to believe. We travelled to my sister's to celebrate the adoption of her two new sons, which was awesome! :) And then, my entire crew came down with a stomach virus that lasted about 5 days per person, which was totally not awesome. Below is chapter 41, but be looking for more updates today. I don't know if I'll be able to do all of them, but my plan is to upload 3 more chapters today to get us back on track! Hope you enjoy! - <3 Kaleigh***

Blythe's POV

The burning was unbearable. I could feel the sweat trickling down my brow. My initial reaction was to run. To move away from whatever was causing the sharp, shooting pains in my chest, and the dull, but strong ache in my arm. But my eyes wouldn't open, and the fogginess of my thoughts wouldn't allow me to understand my surroundings.

I was reclining on something. That much I knew. The strong scent of cigarettes and musky sweat were overpowering, and when I tried to roll away from the offending fragrance, a searing pain attacked me. A whimper escaped my mouth, and the irons bands around my waist constricted. The scent of nicotine grew stronger as someone nuzzled my neck, their hair tickling my cheek.

My drowsy eyes finally began to flutter, and the blurry outline of the darkened room gradually grew sharper. My stomach twisted as the memories of the day slowly came back to me. I shuddered when I recognized the musky smell of sweat as belonging to Michael. His breaths were even, and I knew he still slept, but in my weakened state, there was no way for me to escape the strong grip of his muscular arms. I squeezed my eyes shut, assaulted with the memory of his return to the disgusting hotel room.

He had paced for ages as he spoke with someone on the phone.

"Tell the Colombians we have the fucking girls," he growled, his broad chest heaving. "Connor is still going to meet as planned."

He slammed his opened palm against the wall while listening to the response from the other end.

"I don't give a damn," he shouted. Turning, he ran his fingers through his short hair. "This is why I pay you. To make sure none of these charges stick." He continued to gripe as he stomped across the room and seated himself on the bed. "You're the fucking cop, so do what you have to do to get Jimmy and Courtney out of jail. Destroy the evidence. Get rid of any narcs. Do whatever you have to do, of you'll find that it won't matter if the NYPD finds out that you're on my payroll. You'll be at the bottom of the fuckin' Hudson."

I couldn't stop the gasp that escaped my lips, and Michael turned to sneer at me. I was still cuffed to the radiator in the corner, holding my broken arm against my stomach, and trying desperately not to jostle my fractured ribs. At the sight of Michael's penetrating gaze, I huddled further into a ball, ignoring the protesting of my ribs and the burning sensation attacking my lungs. His glare soon left me, and I stared as he continued talking to the cop on the other end of the line.

"Trust me. You cross me, and you'll never make it out of Chicago."

His voice was dripping with disdain, but I was focused on his final word. The mole that Luca had been so desperate to find wasn't back home in New York. Right now that cop was in the Windy City, which meant it was probably someone working with Luca. That burning sensation in my chest and lungs was quickly forgotten as it was replaced with the sudden attack of bile rising in my throat. Fucking Walker. Fear raced through my veins when I realized that I had sent my baby sister directly to the bastard.

Michael disconnected his cell phone and roared in anger. He threw the phone across the room, and I ducked as it hit the spot directly above my head. A sob escaped my throat as I flinched in fear. Michael's green eyes darkened as he glared at me. When a second sob bubbled forth, following the first, his face softened slightly, and he began to stalk across the room. I backed into the corner as deeply as I could, ignoring the shooting pains in my arm and chest. Michael dropped to one knee and quietly withdrew a key from his pocket. Reaching forward, he unlatched the handcuff from the radiator, and his gaze met mine.