Ryan’s boots dangled three feet off the floor, the toes of his expensive Italian leather scraping uselessly at the concrete.
The sickening c***k of his skull hitting the wall still echoed in the subterranean cell, but the real terror was the absolute silence that followed. Michael didn’t roar. He didn’t snarl. He held his younger brother by the face with a single, blood-slicked hand, his broad shoulders blocking the dim overhead light.
Charcoal trousers. A ruined white dress shirt clinging to the heavy, coiled muscles of his back. He looked immaculate, even soaked in gore.
Ryan’s hands clawed weakly at Michael’s thick forearm, his eyes wide and leaking tears of pure panic. He couldn't breathe. Michael’s fingers were dug so deeply into Ryan’s jaw the skin was turning a bruised, mottled p
