I lunge again.My shoulders pop silently, already out of their socket, in protest, fire running down my arms, but I keep straining.
“Cassius,” she says, sharp enough to cut through the noise.“I can take it.”This time, it’s not a whisper.The man in front of her slaps her hard enough to knock her down, but he holds the back of her chair with his other hand so she doesn’t topple over.
Something cracks in my chest.
“Stop—” I grind the word out, half-growl, half-plea.
“Not so tough now,” the one behind me says, shoving me forward so I can’t miss a second of it.“Are you sure you’re theMachine?”
The rope shreds another layer of skin when I pull.My wrists slip, just enough that I think—maybe—I drop my head for half a second—enough to catch Lindy’s eyes.She’s scared.She’s hiding it, but I know every version of her fear.I know she’s breathing in odd count breaths and waiting for me.
I twist, and rip at the rope like I can tear through it with sheer rage.My vision goes black around the edges.Still, I keep going.I’ll give them my life if it means she walks out of here whole.But they don’t want my life.They wanther.They know hurting her, making me watch them hurt her, is more torture than they could ever physically put me through.
A deepboomrattles the concrete walls.Another.Then shouting outside.Boots pounding.The door bursts inward.Nikola steps through like a blade in human form, Dmitry right behind him, moving in a sweep that drops two men before they even reach for their guns.
Gunfire erupts from outside in short, controlled bursts and the roar of motorcycle engines.Dominic charges in with Vex and Havoc, cutting down anyone in front of them.Havoc’s shotgun thunders, tearing a hole clean through the far wall.
Marco’s voice cuts through the chaos, sharp Italian curses and orders, his men flooding the space like a tsunami.
One ofSpider’smen grabs Lindy as a shield, but Marco puts a bullet between his eyes.Lindy’s rope snaps, she’s shoved forward, and I catch her in my lap before she hits the ground.
Her ribs move under my hands.“You’re safe now, Lindy girl.”
“You good, man?”Dominic asks, and when I nod, “We’re going to clear the building.Sit tight and then we’ll get the fuck out of here.”She nods against my chest, shaky but alive.The six men who I owe her life leave.Accord or no, my debt to them will never close.Blood, time, money, whatever they need, whenever they ask.Loyalty.Family.Whether we ever say the words or not.
My world tilts back into place.The gunfire outside thins to sharp, distant pops.A radio crackles in the hall.“Second floor clear.”Another voice answers, further away.And then—heels on concrete.A figure steps in through the broken doorway.
Hair pinned smooth, lipstick the color of blood after it dries on concrete in the sun.Her dress doesn’t cling; itcontains.When she smiles, it’s for the cameras she obviously knows are there.Madrid in her vowels, razor-sharp blades in her consonants.
This bitch.I haven’t been played like this in decades, not since I was a fucking kid.She sat at the pool withmy wife.Lindy was nice to her,likedher.
She lifts a wrist, slides silk back.A black widow inked clean and deliberate on the inside of her forearm.“Men,” she says lightly, gaze flicking to me.“Always assume the crown’s on a man.”
She’s not wrong, but I never left out women as a possibility because I thought they were weak.I left them out because I couldn’t imagine a woman standing by while children are sold off, raped, killed.Couldn’t imagine one looking at what I’ve seen and choosing it.The drugs, the weapons, the money, what the fuck ever, I understand greed, but I can’t even stomach the things those kids go through so to think a woman could…
“Let me guess,” she says, pressing the end of her pistol to my forehead.The metal is cold, but I don’t flinch.“You’re wondering how I could sacrifice the children.Let me tell you something about children.”She slides the barrel down the bridge of my nose, stopping at my chest, forcing a barrier between me and Melinda’s body.“They’re resilient little fuckers.They live through things I’ve seen kill grown men.”
“Because you took away any other choice,” Lindy screams from my lap.“You made survival the only option.Hell is too good a place for the evil inside you.”
The muzzle snaps toward her too fast for a warning, too fast to move.The first shot rips through Lindy’s shoulder, the sound cuts through me like it’s my own flesh tearing.Her body jerks, head dropping forward.
“Lindy!”My roar shakes the ceiling.
The second shot strikes my thigh, my teeth slam shut.The third finds me nearly center mass.Air leaves my lungs in a rush.The world tilts sideways, but I keep my eyes on her.
She’s still breathing.
If I die here, it won’t be from the bullets or the blood loss.It’ll be her breath stopping first.
The room echoes with my pulse, each thud weaker than the last but it’s so fucking loud.The bitch’s heels fade.The door slams shut like a coffin lid.If it’s the last thing I do Iwillkill her.This isn’t some romantic moment where I beg God to stay alive so that I can see Lindy again.This is me selling my soul to the devil.Living so that I can skin that cunt alive.
For a few seconds, there’s only the drip of blood on concrete.Mine.Hers.
Then boots again, controlled this time.The door swings wide.
Sava, in all black and a mask, but I know that step.Gun in her fist.Eyes like ice.She takes one look at me and crosses the room fast.
“No,” I rasp.“Get Melinda.”
