I’ve buckled emotion down. I had to. I couldn’t function, and that wouldn’t get my woman back. Colin wants her. I know what he wants. I refuse to believe I can’t get her back before that happens. I will get her, and then I will chop Colin up into fucking pieces and feed him to my dogs. The only thing I can do until Torch comes up with a lead as to where they took Beth is move full steam ahead.

“Is everything in place?”

“Yeah, boss. When do you want us to start letting off the discharges?”

“Thirty minutes. I want Diesel here.”

“I can’t figure it out. I thought the fuckers would up their security after our first round of attacks. This seems almost too easy,” I grumble, raking my hand down the side of my face, losing my fingers in the stubble. I look like fucking hell. Losing your heart does that to a man. I have to get her back… I have to.

“I think the fuckers are just underestimating your fire power, ese,” Diesel says, strolling in like he owns the fucking world.

“Or maybe they realize what a fucking fool I was to concentrate on attacking them and not protecting my woman.”

“No word?” Diesel says, kicking a chair out and straddling the back of it between his legs, propping his hands on the top of it.

“She was pushed into a limo right outside the hospital,” I tell him. “It wasn’t Colin with her. Fucker knew where the cameras were, so his face was hidden. I have no idea who he is.”

“Redmond?”

“I don’t know.”

I’m fishing in the fucking dark here and that’s what drives me crazy. With Colin, I know what to worry about. If this is Redmond, then why is he making himself known now? What the fuck does he want with Beth? Is she going to be a pawn in a fucking play for power? The pencil I’m holding in my hand snaps. I throw the pieces at the table in frustration. I hate this fucking song and dance shit. Why can’t the motherfucker just be a man and face me head on?

“How’s Pistol and Latch?” asks Diesel.

“Pistol just got out of surgery,” I tell him. “They say the fucker should be okay. Latch is fine, already trying to bang a nurse. Are we ready for fireworks?” I ask Torch. I’m fucking tired and need to concentrate on Beth.

“Yeah, boss. We upped the firepower. Because of the long range this time, I’ll type the coordinates and codes into the computer and there will be about a one minute delay before the charges ignite.”

“Let’s hit Colin’s pretties first. I’m in the mood to fuck up his playthings,” I tell him while looking at the screen, which shows Colin’s private garage that has over fifty cars housed in it. They range from the rarest of classic vehicles to state-of-the-art. These beauties are solely Colin’s, especially the 1950’s Ariel 650 Cyclone in the corner.

“Got it. Command code sent, boss,” Torch says.

We sit back and watch. True to his word, in about a minute we watch as the explosion starts. We only get to see inside for one blast. Fire erupts and I get the joy of seeing the motorcycle destroyed before the building is toast, along with the camera. Torch switches to another view. This time, it’s a camera across the street, and we watch as the building burns to the ground. Fire trucks come charging in, but they can’t help save and contain what is already gone.

“Next, boss?”

“Take out his planes.”

One by one we go down the line of precious things we’re destroying until we arrive at the yacht that Colin and Matthew keep off the coast of Tybee Island. I smile because I know this one will hurt the most. This one, they use constantly. Word has it that Colin even lived on the yacht for a year. It’s his favorite, though, if the intel Torch was getting holds true, Redmond is the one who controls the purse strings and is the actual owner. Doesn’t matter; I’m taking all of them down. Colin, Matthew, Redmond… I don’t fucking care. No one messes with my woman.

“Let’s get this done. I have a woman to find.”

“Got it, boss. Punching the last of the codes in now,” Torch answers. I hear the beeps and the rattle of his keyboard.

“What the fuck?” I yell, jumping out of my seat to go to the monitor. “Jesus fucking Christ! Stop it, Torch! Stop the blast! Abort it!” I yell, standing in front of the screen. My heart pounds a million times a minute and my body feels like it’s on fucking fire. There on the screen is my sweet Beth. I know it’s her. She’s wearing the same beautiful pink dress she had on this morning, and her hair is pulled back and clipped high on her head so the rest swings down. She’s being held by two men and her hands are tied behind her back. They’re all but dragging her up the wooden dock to the ship.

“Torch!” I scream. “Stop the motherfucking bombs!”

“Goddamn it, boss, I’m trying!”

“Jesus!” one of the men behind me exclaims. “Holy Mother of God!” shouts another. “Stop it, Torch!!” I scream myself, hearing the others, but they don’t matter—nothing matters except stopping this bomb.

“I’m trying, boss! I’m trying!”

The screen blinks out once and my breath freezes in my fucking body because I know that’s it. Then, it comes back on. She’s at the top of the yacht now.

I’m fucking losing it.

“No. No. No. No! Motherfucker! Stall them, Beth!” I scream at the monitor. “Torch!”

“Boss, there’s some kind of interference. I… I can’t get the codes to go in. I’m almost there, just one more sec and—”

That’s all he gets out before the middle of the ship explodes. A split second later, another charge goes off right in front of Beth. The explosion is gigantic, the biggest one yet, because I wanted this motherfucker in so many pieces that parts of him could be found in every ocean.

I drop to my knees, screaming as I watch the flames erupt all over the one woman I love more than anything in the world, devouring her. I cry out in agony, my arms wrapped tight over my head and pulling it down, trying to block what I just saw. It can’t be true. It can’t.

“Oh my God, I killed her. I killed my Beth. No!” I scream as loud and as long as I can, trying to make the Heavens hear me so they can fix this. “Oh, God, please don’t let this be real… Oh, God! Baby… mi cielo… What have I done? W-What have I done??” I just keep repeating the words as the sobs rack my body. “What have I done?”