It's the worst damn headache I've had in ages, and I know it's not from being pistol-whipped in the back of my head. This is a different kind of headache, and it's from the second round of drugs those bastards gave me to knock me out so they could transport me to wherever the hell I am now. Even the quiet room hurts my head, but I refuse to let myself moan out loud in pain. I won't give them the satisfaction. I blink my eyes several times to clear the blurry haze and see that I'm in a basement of sorts. This isn't one of those barren basements; you know, the ones you see in mafia movies with one loan light bulb strung from the ceiling and a single chair in the middle of the room. This is a storage basement, with boxes strewn about. By the size of the room, I don't know if I'm in a small warehouse or at the bottom of a large estate. One box is labeled Christmas, which tells me this isn’t a big operation; it’s Vince’s operation. Nevertheless, I'm in a basement with a concrete floor, and my back screams in protest against lying on the hard surface overnight.
What do You think about Quinn II (Undaunted Men #2)?
