All three of my alphas are standing, the muscles in their body locked up like they’re preparing for an attack.
“What the fuck is going on?” Ash snarls, his eyes scanning over my body like he’s trying to reassure himself that I’m alright.
“Police are coming. We’re getting out of here,” Rowan says, stepping up to Rage’s cage and digging in his back pocket to unlock it.
“Like, out of here, out of here?” Griffin asks, flashing a toothy grin.
His excitement is contagious, buzzing in my chest like a hive full of bees.
“Like hell you are.” The snarl sends a bolt of terror through my body.
Jett.
With a gun pointed right at Rowan.
Bang.
The noise is deafening in the small space. My ears are ringing so loudly I can barely hear my own scream when I see blood splatter all over the concrete.
Rowan’s blood.
He collapses to the floor, clutching at his thigh. Blood soaks through his worn jeans and he screams out in pain.
“Rowan!” I cry out, lurching towards him.
I’m caught by a vicious hold in my hair.
“Ah, ah, ah, you’re not going anywhere,” Jett snarls, tugging me into his chest.
My skin feels dirty. Coated in oil wherever he touches me.
“Get your filthy hands off her!” Griffin roars.
“I’m going to fucking kill you, you sack of shit!” Ash spits.
Rage says nothing, but his roar echoes off the walls as he throws himself into the bars. His cage topples over, barely missing Rowan, prone on the floor.
“Let me go!” I sob as Jett tucks the gun back into his waistband.
My strangled cries are cut off when he grips me by the neck, cutting off my airflow.
I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me in front of all of my guys and they’re going to lose themselves. They’d never recover after seeing something like that.
“I don’t like your shrieking,” Jett hisses, his breath hot against my cheek. “So you better shut up.”
I nod frantically, as much as I can with his hand cutting off my windpipe. He waits until I’m clawing at his forearm with my nails. I’m pretty sure I draw blood, too. Just as black spots appear in my vision, he releases his grip on my neck.
I suck in a desperate lungful of air, coughing.
His grip on me is still iron tight.
“I should’ve known fucking better, you fucking shitstain,” Jett hisses, glaring down at Rowan, who’s still writhing on the floor. “Did Ihear that right? First chance you get, you’re gonna run away with the dogs?”
Rowan’s jaw grinds as he returns Jett’s glare. He’s pale. From the shock of getting shot or the blood loss, I don’t know. But it scares me. There’s so much blood. I’ve never seen this much blood before in my life.
“I want a fuckin’ answer from you, shitstain,” Jett snarls. There’s a flash of metal in front of my face. “And don’t even think about lying to me.”
A knife.
