Page 99 of Freed By Fire
I feel London’s eyes on me as I stride out the front door where Carlisle and a few other men are waiting for me.
“You know where to take him,” I tell Carlisle, pausing with my hand on the door. “I’ll come by once I’ve taken care of the other one.”
Carlisle scans the darkness and nods.
A moment later, I get into the car and watch Carlisle through the glass. He waits until my car is at the gate before getting into the other one. Next to me, Noah’s head rests against the cool glass, his chest rising and falling evenly. As we drive away from the estate, he begins to mutter. I’m halfway through my second glass of whiskey when Noah stirs and begins to struggle against his binds.
“Don’t waste your time.”
Noah goes rigid. “London will never forgive you for this.”
“She has more important things on her mind, trust me.”
“She won’t forgive you,” Noah repeats. “And what kind of man ties up his enemy? Aren’t you at least going to give me a fair fight?”
I raise an eyebrow at Noah. “And why would I do that?”
Noah pauses. “Because she would want you to.”
I scoff. “If I were you, I’d spend a little less time worrying about what London wants, and a little more time planning what I want to do next.”
“I already told you that I won’t beg for my life.”
I set my glass down. “You could bargain, you know. At least for your brother’s life. Or does it mean so little to you?”
Noah studies me. “I don’t think it will do any good.”
“It won’t.” I offer Noah a cruel smile.
Sometime later, we pull up in front of a townhouse in the suburbs. I push the door open before the car comes to a stop.
Then, I reach across the seats and grab Noah by the scruff of his neck.
I drag him past a small gate, down a cobblestone path, and up a set of stairs. Once we reach the front door, I ring the doorbell and wait. Noah shifts from one foot to the other and inches away from me, but I yank him back and force him to his knees.
The door finally swings open, revealing a hazy-eyed mayor in a thick robe. Noah Sr. does a double-take when he sees us. He rubs a hand over his eyes.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“An olive branch.” I shove Noah at his father. “Now, let’s talk business.”
Noah Sr. barely looks at his son before he turns to me. “I knew you’d see reason.”
I grunt and step past the mayor and into the tile-floored foyer. Noah and his father exchange a few heated words before they turn to face me. With a frown, Noah Sr. turns back to me with a smile.
“Won’t you at least untie me?”
“Not until Mr. Payne and I are done,” Noah Sr. replies without looking at him. “Don’t want you getting any ideas aboutlaying a hand on our guest, now, do we? Shall we go to my study, Mr. Payne?”
I step to the side and make an exaggerated sweeping gesture, following Noah Sr. down a carpeted hallway with paintings on the beige-colored walls. At the end of the hallway, the mayor stops and pushes the door open to reveal an opulent room with a fireplace, a Persian rug, and shelves of books on either side. He stops behind his mahogany desk to retrieve a bell and flashes me a smile.
I lower myself onto the nearest armchair and cross my legs.
The mayor hands me a glass of whiskey and takes a seat opposite me. “I knew we’d end up in business together. It was just a matter of time.”
“You need a better selection of whiskey if we’re going to be doing business,” I say.
Noah Sr. nods a little too eagerly. “Of course. I’ll make sure to have some of the finest imported. I have a guy for that thing, you know.”
