The Sacrifice: Chapter 53

My wife has been missing for five days, and I’m no closer to finding her. I thought I was losing my mind, but I’ve officially gone manic. Lack of sleep will do that to you.

I pace the room, my bloody hands down by my side. Some mine, mixed with others. “Where is my wife?” My voice is as rough as I look. I can’t even remember the last time I showered or ate something.

“I … I don’t know.”

I swing, my fisted hand connecting with the guy’s jaw, making him cry out like a little bitch. I’ve always preferred to fight with my hands rather than a gun or a knife. Hand to hand is so much more personal. It sends a message that I’m not afraid to fuck myself up, and I’ll take anyone down with me.

“And you?” I walk over to the other man hanging from the ceiling. His arms tied above his head as he still rocks back and forth from the last fist to his stomach. “Still don’t know where she’s at, I suppose?”

His head hangs back, his body pulled tight. He’s naked and covered in blood. I took a knife to his leg a few hours ago just because. He’ll hang here like the piece of rotting meat he is until I get what I want or decide to kill him.

“She’s … dead,” he grinds out.

I refuse to believe that. It wouldn’t make sense for whoever has her to kill her. I’d give up my life for her. That has to be their plan, right? A trade? Me for her? Otherwise, why would they take her from me? “You better hope not.”

I punch him in the throat and his body jerks in the chains while he coughs and sputters. “Beau sent you a text the night of the fire. Told you that Lake was at Blackout. Why?”

It’s ironic that the two guys I was chasing down the night of the fire are the same two who were at Blackout. I don’t have concrete evidence that they had help in kidnapping my wife, but why the fuck would they care that my wife was up at the club? I don’t believe in coincidences.

Neither of them says anything, and I pop my split knuckles while Ryat sits over in the corner of the room, straddling a chair backwards with his arm lying across the top. He’s helped me the last few days. After I set Beau and his bitch on fire, we’ve watched these two for two days. It was all I could take. They weren’t leading me anywhere and I was tired of waiting.

Lowering my hand, I twirl my bloody wedding ring, my body so tense I’m about to snap like a rubber band.

“Did you contact Bethany and tell her that Lake was there?” I demand, trying to put the pieces together. None of it makes sense. Beau messaged them that my wife was at the club, but their phones had nothing to Bethany. How did she know Lake was there?

These two have to be the ones who took Alex and Jenks out. They both said they were attacked with men wearing masks. Lords’ masks. My security guards are Lords, but they’re juniors this year. They’ve worked for me since I opened the club. I don’t see why they’d want to double cross me now unless someone got to them. But then again, I didn’t think that Beau would do that either and look what he did. They’re all working for someone, but who?

I look over at Ryat, and he shakes his head at my silent question. Nothing on their cell phones other than the message from Beau. So they have to have more stashed somewhere. I’ll go into the house of Lords after I finish them off and tear their rooms up until I find what I want.

Marco and Steve hang side by side, silently whimpering like little bitches. If you’re going to piss off someone that you know will chase you down and torture you, you better be ready to get your ass fucking beat to death and take it like a man.

“Who the fuck took my wife?” I scream, my voice bouncing off the concrete walls and floor.

They stay silent as they swing from their chains. I begin to punch the one I’m standing in front of over and over. His body rocks back and forth from each blow. My body is vibrating with rage. I’m pretty sure it’s the only thing keeping me going at this point. I’m afraid if I lie down, I’m going to pass out for days, and I can’t afford to lose that much time.

I have to keep going. I have to keep demanding answers.

My bloody and sweaty fist slides across his chest, and I lose my balance. I fall to the floor and slowly get to my shaking legs.

I hear the sound of the chair scraping across the floor of Ryat’s bunker as he gets to his feet. Since I no longer have the basement at Blackout, Ryat is letting me use the bunker that he has in the middle of the woods behind his house. I needed somewhere to bring them for the time being. I wanted answers, but it’s getting me nowhere.

Looking over, I see Ryat now standing there, both of their cell phones in his hands. Turning, I make my way up the stairs, and he turns off the lights, shutting them in behind us. We walk silently through the dark woods to his house. The lights from it filter through the large floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the backyard.

Once I get inside, I go straight upstairs and undress. When I step into the shower, my body shakes with madness. Placing my bloody hands on the wall, I bow my head. I want to fucking explode.

“Where are you, little darling?” I ask desperately as my throat closes up on me.

All I ask is for her to please be alive. I can handle anything else. I just need to get her back and we’ll figure the rest out together.

Does she think I’ve given up on her? That I don’t fucking care where she is or what is happening? Probably not because I haven’t made her believe otherwise. The last time I was with her was different. I felt it, and I know she did too, but did I tell her? No. I just expected her to know.

She lies underneath me in our bed while I hover over her. My tongue licks my lips, wanting another taste of what my mouth just did between her legs. Fuck, she’s so addicting, I want to devour her over and over again.

Her hands fall from my hair and lay down by her side. She’s panting, eyes heavy, and perfect lips parted. “Tyson,” she whispers, arching her neck.

My eyes drop to her collar, and I smile, knowing she belongs to me. What started out as a symbol of ownership is now an oath of her devotion. She’ll never take it off. I may never turn it on again, but she’ll wear it regardless.

“Yeah, little darling?” I lower my lips to her slick neck and lick up to her ear before biting down on it.

She cries out, and her arms wrap around my torso to run her nails down my back. I reach between us and grab the base of my dick. I spread her legs wide open with mine and push into her soaking wet cunt, loving the way she tenses underneath me when a gasp falls from her lips.

“Fuck, Lake.” I groan, loving the way she lets me in. She’s so fucking tight that it takes my breath away.

Her legs shake as they cling to me, and I lean up, my hand wrapping around her slender neck, and pin her down while I start to fuck her. I’ve never been the kind of guy who wants to make love to his wife, and Lake isn’t the type of woman who wants her husband to go soft. She likes to be pushed to the point it’s painful. Her body comes alive for me when she gives me full control, and I love pushing her to see how far I can take it.