"Hades?"Her voice is so quiet I almost miss it over the engine noise.
"I'm here, Angel.Just hold on.We're almost home."
"The kids..."
"Are safe.Tempest's with them.They don't know anything yet."
She nods slightly then winces.I resist the urge to pull over, to check every injury, to make sure she's really okay.We need to get to the clubhouse first, where Ruin can look at her properly.He’s a trained medic so he’ll be able to help her.
And my brothers can help me plan what comes next.
The gates come into view, and I see brothers already waiting in the parking lot.Word travels fast in the club, and Ghost's probably been coordinating since the moment we called for extraction.
Tempest is first to the truck, yanking open the passenger door before I've even killed the engine.
"Jesus Christ," he breathes, taking in Evangeline's condition."Ruin's ready in the back room.How bad?"
"Bad enough."I slide out and move around to help Evangeline."Cracked ribs, cuts, probably concussion.She needs a full assessment."
"I can walk," Evangeline protests weakly as I lift her from the seat.
"I know you can.But you don't have to."
I carry her inside, ignoring the brothers who step aside to let us pass.Their faces are hard, fury barely contained.They've seen the state we're in, and they know what it means.
War.
Ruin's already setting up in the back room when we arrive, his weathered face grim.He's seen plenty of violence in his years patching up brothers, but there's something about seeing it done to an innocent woman that hits different.
"On the table," he directs."Hades, I need space to work."
I set her down as gently as I can, but she still gasps in pain.The sound makes my hands clench into fists.
"I'm going to examine you now," Ruin tells Evangeline, his voice kind despite the circumstances."Tell me if anything hurts more than it already does."
I step back to give him room, but I can't leave.Can't stop watching as he carefully cuts away her blood-soaked shirt, revealing the full extent of the damage.
Bruises bloom across her ribs in shades of purple and black.The knife wound on her arm is still bleeding sluggishly.Her face is swollen, split lip crusted with dried blood.
I memorize every mark.Every bruise.Every cut.
Fuel for what comes next.
"Don't," Evangeline says, reading my expression even through the pain."Don't do something stupid."
"Not stupid, Angel.Just necessary."
"Hades—"
"Two cracked ribs," Ruin interrupts, his hands gentle as he probes her side."Possible concussion.This cut needs stitches.And her thumb's dislocated."
"I did that," Evangeline says."Getting free from the ropes."
Pride wars with guilt in my chest.She saved herself, saved me, and showed more courage than most hardened criminals.But she never should have had to.
"It’s going to hurt when I set it," Ruin warns.
"Do it."
