Hyland's Consort

by Felicity Brandon

  Lifting my head from the pillow, I eased away from Hilary, ensuring she hadn’t woken before I strained my ears, listening for anything further. For a moment, stony silence swirled past my eardrums, nearly convincing me I’d imagined the whole thing until a shuffle from outside in the corridor garnered my attention again. I was on my feet, creeping out of the bedroom to the main entrance in a heartbeat. Pressing my head against the door, I focused on what was coming from beyond it.

  Tread. Definitely tread, from one, maybe more pairs of shoes. My every instinct told me something was very wrong with this scenario. People didn’t linger outside lavish suites, and if it did happen to be a member of staff, they would have knocked by now, apologizing profusely for the inconvenience.

  “Is this the room?”

  The unmistakable sound of a man’s muted voice met my ear, and straightening, I stared at the door. Who the hell was he? Who would be here at this time? I didn’t wait for the answers to hit me in the face, turning and dashing back to my clothes. Pulling on my pants, I found the gun I’d kept stashed away in my overnight bag for emergencies. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I’d been a Hyland long enough to trust my instincts—and each one sounded alarm bells.

  “Sean?” Half-asleep, her voice floated from the bed, and in the shadows, I could just make out her silhouette as she rose to one elbow. “Sir, what’s wrong?”

  My lips twitched at the way she addressed me, despite the dread escalating in the pit of my stomach.

  “Shhh.” Striding to the bed, I lowered my voice. “I’m not sure, but I think there’s someone outside.”

  “What?” She leaned closer to me. “I don’t understand.”

  “I said shhh.” I was near enough to whisper. “Stay here. I’m going to check it out.”

  “Sir.”

  She sounded fraught, a tone I wasn’t used to unless I was the cause of her anxiety. The thought some other wanker could induce those feelings was less than satisfying. Whatever our genesis, Hilary was my wife now. It was my responsibility to take care of her, to protect her.

  “It’s okay.” I tried to reassure, but the knotting tension inside assured me I’d failed. “Just stay here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” On that point, at least, I was resolved.

  Spinning on my heel, I reached for the weapon stashed in my pocket. The safety might be on, but it would only take a matter of seconds to rectify that situation. I was about halfway to the suite door when I heard the unmistakable sound of a key in the lock. I was sure my heart stopped beating altogether. Why was there a key in the lock? I had the only key to the suite, and I’d instructed the hotel staff to stay away unless I needed assistance. Paralyzed with uncertainty, I stood in the near darkness, watching as the door inched open. Grasping my weapon, ready to fire, I pointed it at the door before it fully opened.

  “Think again, fucker.” As if the gun had broken an invisible spell, my cocky bravado was back with a vengeance. “I have a gun directed right at you. Do yourself a favor and walk away.”

  “Not until I get what I came for.”

  Straightening, I was surprised at the viciousness of the response. Usually, the kinds of guys who did these jobs were all mouth and no trousers. It only took one gentle push to topple them into oblivion, but this guy was different. The mettle in his voice was startling.

  “And what’s that, arsehole?” Gripping the gun, I moved closer. “You know who you’re dealing with, don’t you?”

  “That would be Hilary Mantle.”

  From behind me in the bedroom, Hilary’s gasp was audible, the sound hardening my will.

  “There’s nobody here by that name.” My heart pounded as what sounded like at least two other pairs of shoes bundled into the room. “The only woman here is Hilary Hyland, and she belongs to me.”

  The overhead light flickered on, the scene unraveling in front of me like a terrible movie. There were more than half a dozen men I didn’t recognize dressed in black, brandishing weapons, but the biggest shock was yet to come. Assessing the entourage, my gaze landed on the one closest to me, and his face was instantly familiar.

  “Morrison.” I gritted my teeth at the unwelcome sight.

  “Hyland.” He nodded in my direction, his gaze scanning the suite behind me before he gestured to one of the ogres at his rear.

  It all happened so fast. Time, which had protracted in the shadows, sped up with the signal, and five of the men came at me with vexing agility.

  “Stay back!” I warned, squeezing the trigger, but one of them was already behind me, wrestling me to the ground. By the time the gun fired, the bullet hit the ornate ceiling, chipping the priceless décor.

  I was vaguely aware of Morrison striding past, of the horror that filled me as he headed to the bedroom—the place where my wife was waiting—but pinned down by numerous pairs of brutal hands, a number of which were attempting to throw punches in my direction, there was nothing I could do to stop him.

  “Hilary!” I screamed, straining to turn around and see if she was okay, but the cumbersome oafs holding me down gave me little hope of that.

  “Sean!”

  I could hear the panic in her voice, trepidation twisting inside at the sound.

  “What’s happen—” She never finished that sentence, and though I couldn’t see why, I could take an educated guess.

  Morrison.

  “Hilary.”

  Even I was forced to acknowledge the relief in his voice.

  “Oh my God, Hilary, are you okay?”

  “Saul?” Shock resonated in her tone. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

  It was a fucking good question, but one Morrison only sniggered at.

  “I’ve come for you, silly. Isn’t it obvious?” He chuckled. “I’ve come to rescue you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Hilary

  THIS COULDN’T BE HAPPENING. I refused to acknowledge it. After all the days of waiting, thinking of Saul, praying for him to come, for someone—anyone—to drag me away from Sean’s clutches, he decided to make an entrance now? Now that I’d been forced to endure the torment that was my alleged wedding day, and now that Sean and I had finally satiated the desire brimming between us. This was the moment my old lover decided to show up—seriously?

  “For me?” I shook my head, gripping the covers closer to my chest. Despite the endless binds Sean had employed during our special day, I was unfettered and free to recoil away from Saul. “Why?”

  “Why?” Saul’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, why? This arsehole took you from right under my nose.” He turned, gesturing into the other room.

  Pulling the sheets off the bed, I slid from it and wandered the short distance to see what was happening. Sean was held down by numerous men wielding weapons, his bloodied face evidence of the welcome he’d received. My brow furrowed, confusion warring inside me. I’d wanted to see Sean suffer for so long, to see pain etched into his features, to see him impotent and powerless. I’d fantasized about it in those long, dark hours alone, bound to the chair, but the scene playing out now wasn’t half as satisfying as I’d anticipated. Little in the way of glee rose at the sight of Sean’s helplessness, and even less excitement was inspired by Saul.

  Shifting my focus back to him, my gaze traveled over his concerned expression. Saul. I thought I’d been falling in love with him, had lofty aspirations of a life together, but staring at him, there was a disconnect. It wasn’t that I loved Sean—far from it, though I had noticed fleeting moments of tenderness in his touch—it was more, whatever feelings had burgeoned for Saul had faded. All those times I’d longed for him, desired for him to be my savior had amounted to nothing, and with the nothing came a new, stark reality.

  I was on my own. I might have been embroiled with The Syndicate, and that association could well have been the cause of my abduction, but apparently, I wasn’t entwined enough to warrant rescue. When Dalton’s girlfriend, Delilah, had been taken captive by Sean’s uncle, Saul and the others had m
oved heaven and earth to find her, to free her from Zander’s ugly grip, but for some reason, I didn’t warrant the same salvage. Regarding Saul now, it all flooded back, that sense of rejection stinging all the harder as I was forced to acknowledge it.

  “Hilary?” Saul inched toward me, one hand rising toward my face.

  “Where have you been?” There was venom in my voice, and briefly, I noticed him register it, the hurt flickering in his eyes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, where have you been all this time, Saul?” Anger simmered in my veins, my hands grasping the fabric closer to my chest. “I’ve been gone for...” Hesitating, I tried to recall just how long Sean had held me. “I don’t even know how long, but days, Saul, maybe weeks. Where were you?” My voice croaked with emotion, all those hours of lonely despair peaking until finally, the question I’d wanted to ask flew from my lips.

  “Where were you when I needed you?”

  “I-I was looking for you.” He faltered, an expression of powerlessness appearing on his face. I’d never seen such uncertainty from him before, and it might have been amusing had it not been so infuriating.

  “You could have found me in a couple of days,” I spat at him. “Even I know enough about The Syndicate to know that. Why didn’t you come before?” Shaking my head, I refused to acknowledge the tears burning in my eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” His hand, which had been hovering in the air between us, fell to his side. “You’re right. I should have come sooner.”

  “You’re damn right you should have come.” The fury had focused me, making it easier to convey my resentment. I deserved more, and it was time Saul knew it.

  “Are you okay?” Saul stepped forward again, his eyes moist with emotion. “Did he hurt you?”

  Inhaling, I wanted to fucking laugh.

  “Hurt me?” My tone dripped with disdain. “What do you think he’s been doing with me all this time? Treating me to five-star luxury?”

  Saul’s gaze stretched past me, landing on Sean.

  “What have you done to her, you bastard?” Pacing in his direction, Saul pointed a finger at him. “If you’ve so much as hurt a hair on her head, I swear, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  A heavy silence stretched out around us, broken only by the dark, dry laughter of my husband. I shivered, glancing from Saul to Sean.

  “Well, ain’t that sweet?” Sean’s sardonic tone drifted through the air, his hilarity punctuated only by the fist which walloped his nose.

  I flinched at the dull thud, my insides twisting as blood poured from Sean’s nose. Two more of Saul’s guys hovered over him, brandishing guns.

  “Don’t hurt him,” I ordered the mean-looking guy leaning over Sean, fist already pulling back for another shot. It took a moment for me to realize he was actually Connor Reilly—one of Saul’s closest allies at The Syndicate. “Just leave him alone.”

  Connor lifted his head, those green eyes boring into me.

  “Seriously?” Saul’s attention shot back to me. “You’re defending him—the man who took you?”

  “Yes.” I lifted my chin, the reality suddenly hitting me. I was defending him. Why was that? “Listen, Sean is no fucking hero. He’s a swine, and he’s treated me like shit.”

  “Charming,” Sean sniggered from the floor, though I noted there was no protest, no attempt to defend himself.

  “Well, it’s true.” I shot a look in his direction, able to tell him how I felt for the first time. “And you know it.”

  “Hey, I’m not denying it.” A smirk lit up his face, despite the blood and the fist still hovering above it. “I’m an arsehole.”

  “Right.” Blowing out a breath, I was pleased he at least accepted it. “But whatever he’s done, he’s never punched me.” I glanced back to Saul, imploring him to see reason. “You’re as bad as each other, Saul. You take other people and treat them like dirt. You use them, abuse them, and don’t care who gets in the way.” Wiping my tears with the heel of my hand, my jaw clenched. “And this is what you get.” I gestured toward myself, abruptly aware of how naked I was beneath the sheet. “This is what you get when you live this way—I’m the collateral damage.”

  “She’s right.” Sean chuckled. “You know she’s right, Morrison.”

  Saul’s gaze narrowed at his rival’s accusation. “Fuck you, Hyland.”

  Sean’s grisly laughter echoed from the other room again.

  “No thanks, you’re really not my type, and anyway, I have a beautiful new wife to take care of those needs.”

  Saul’s mouth closed, his focus drilling back into me.

  “So, you’re married now?”

  “I didn’t really have much of a choice.” I didn’t like his tone or the inference that Sean had somehow been my selection. Frankly, I hadn’t even wanted marriage. “I’m not sure if you know, but I was fucking kidnapped,” I sneered lowly, the rage that had just started to dissipate knotting in my chest.

  Saul pulled in a deep breath, his gaze rising to the ceiling.

  “So, yeah.” I wanted to shift my hands to my hips to show my defiance. “I’m married. Are you happy now? Have you got what you came for?”

  “I came here for you.” His voice was heavy as he regarded me again. “To take you away from him, but if you’re telling me you want to stay, then I guess I’m too late.”

  “That’s right.” Sean’s unhelpful sneer cut through the tension. “Too late, Morrison—that’s exactly what you are.”

  “Oh, fuck you, Hyland!” Saul hollered at him. “No one was fucking talking to you.”

  “Well, tough shit.” Sean chuckled, spitting his blood onto the carpet beside him. “I’m part of the equation now.”

  “Yeah, don’t I fucking know it?” Saul snarled.

  “Oh, shut up, both of you!” I screamed, stomping my foot. “I want some time to think, and all you’re doing is calling each other names. You’re like a couple of kids.”

  “Looks like you need to train your wife a little better, Hyland...”

  I tensed at Saul’s quip.

  “What the hell, Saul?” I paced toward him, jabbing my finger into his chest. This version of The Syndicate’s leader was nothing like the man I’d been dating, nothing like the considerate, tender lover I’d missed. Whether it was all only cocky bravado in front of Sean, I didn’t like it. “Who do you think you’re talking about?”

  Saul’s gaze slid back to me. “You know what I mean.”

  “No!” I snapped. “No, I don’t. You’re not the man I thought you were, Saul, not the one I was happy with...” My voice trailed away as I blinked away the remaining tears. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry.” Saul sighed. “This hasn’t exactly gone the way I expected.”

  “No shit,” I muttered. “What did you think was going to happen? You’d just bowl in here on our wedding night, and everything would be forgiven?” Swallowing back on the rising tide of emotion, I realized this conversation was going nowhere. Whatever Saul’s objective had been was irrelevant. I was fed up with these men bossing me around.

  “Look, just let Sean up, and maybe we can all talk like adults.”

  “Talk?” Sean snorted from beneath Connor. “These guys just busted in on our wedding night and pounded the shit out of me. The last thing I want to do is talk. They can kiss my arse!”

  Stumbling back, I perched on the end of the bed. It was going to be a long night.

  “Maybe you deserved some of this, Sean.” It was a relief to be frank with him for a change without fear of repercussion. “I meant what I said. You’re both as bad as the other.” I glanced down at Sean, my gaze trailing over his semi-naked body. “You’ve both treated me badly and taken me for granted.”

  I watched as Sean and Saul locked gazes. There were no words of complaint.

  “I’ve had enough of this.” Rising from the bed, I stomped toward the huge wardrobe in the corner. Sean had already told me clothing was waiting for me, and this was
as good a time as any to see for myself.

  “What are you doing?” In the end, it was Saul who asked as I threw back the wooden door and examined the possibilities.

  “I’m getting dressed,” I answered, without turning back to acknowledge him.

  “Hey, no way!” That was Sean’s voice. Turning, I was actually grateful to see Connor holding him down. “I never said you could get dressed.”

  “Tough.” Tugging a pair of dark yoga pants from the hanger, I found a blouse and headed into the en suite bathroom. “I’m fed up with you telling me what to do.”

  Dropping the sheet, I pulled on the pants before slipping into the cool blouse. It felt good to be dressed again, to be on my feet again, thinking for myself. Now that Sean had dampened the fire blazing in my core, I could finally concentrate. Everything seemed clearer.

  Moving back into the bedroom, I found Saul waiting, his hands in his pockets.

  “What’s your plan?” He sounded neither judgmental nor authoritative.

  “I’m leaving.” I threw him a cursory glance before I delved into the bottom of the wardrobe, retrieving a pair of slip-on shoes. “If you’re asking where I’m going, I’m not telling you.” Hell, I didn’t even know myself.

  “You’re going fucking nowhere.”

  We both turned at Sean’s snarl, Saul glancing back at me with a sigh.

  “Want me to keep him busy while you leave?”

  My attention slipped from one lover to the other. There had been times in the last few weeks I’d cared for them both and others when I wanted to punch them, but I appreciated the offer. If I was to have any chance of escaping Sean’s clutches, I had to get ahead of him.

  “Thank you, yes.”

  Sliding my feet into the black leather, I walked to Saul, rising to my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his chin. He wasn’t a bad man at heart, I knew that, but like Sean, he wasn’t a good man, either. He wasn’t good enough for me.