Brutal Savior (Captives of the Onyx Brotherhood Book 2) by Zara J Black

Author:Zara J Black [Black, Zara J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2025-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Jacob

As I walk to main admin, I try to shake off the image of Quinn in her cage, snuggled up in my dressing gown. She’s too bloody cute, and it’s threatening to make me do something stupid. I almost took pity on her and let her orgasm. Only staring at my box of ruined stuff helped me stay strong.

Because fuck, she took my cock like a champ. I’d been prepared to abort the mission if she really wasn’t coping, but a few circles around her clit had her back on track. I’ll teach her to crave pain. In a few weeks, she’ll be begging me for it.

Now, though, I need to wipe her from my mind and focus on the real problem. The fucker who’s about to wish he managed to kill me.

I head straight for detention, and my jaw tightens when I see Brackis standing beside Kendrick. Of course that useless bastard would have to stick his oar in. He holds up a hand as I approach, all self-important bluster. “We’ve got it handled, sir. No need for you to get involved.”

“Like fuck there isn’t.” He starts speaking again, but I cut him off, turning to Kendrick. “Where’s the prisoner? I’ll commence questioning immediately.”

“As I said, sir, we’ve—”

“Was I talking to you?”

Brackis’s mouth flaps like a fish as I address Kendrick, pulling a respectful tone from somewhere. “I’ve convinced the heads of terrorist cells to speak. With respect, I’m the best choice for this.”

Kendrick looks between us, his face tight. Three in the morning, and he’s immaculate in a business suit. Does he own any other clothes?

“After meeting the prisoner, I don’t think convincing him to speak will be an issue. But I agree your skills suit this task, Jacob. You may conduct the interview.”

I manage to resist smirking at Brackis, but only just. He’s a small man, and I shouldn’t lower myself to his level. I’ve always hated mercenaries. I believed in what I was doing in the Specials and left when I couldn’t follow the orders in good conscience anymore.

Mercenaries sell themselves to the highest bidder, and it’s repulsive to me. I’ve done terrible things, but I’ve always tried to keep to my own code.

Though the girl locked in a cage, probably fast asleep, might disagree.

I follow Kendrick into the basement. Was it really only two days ago I spoke to Quinn down here? Since she arrived, everything has exploded into jagged color. I can’t imagine going back to life without her.

Shit, Jacob. Head in the game.

The prisoner is locked in the same cell they had Quinn in. A couple of Gilda soldiers move aside, letting me study him through the one-way glass. He’s slumped in his seat, his posture one of defeat, not defiance. I did a number on his face—broken nose, two black eyes, and a bandage wrapped around his head.

Does he know he’s a dead man? A professional would have a good idea, but I’m not sure this man fits that bill. Skinny frame, ratty clothes, sallow white skin, bad teeth.

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