Once I’m home, I grab a duffle bag from the closet. I fill it with all the cash from my safe. It’s a couple of million dollars I had stashed in case anything ever happened. I’ll tell them the rest is in the truck, and they’ll get it when I have Brooke in my arms. It’ll buy me enough time for Eric to come in, and we’ll put an end to this shit, once and for all.
Pulling my forty-five from the safe, I tuck it in my waistband at my back. Reaching for my snub-nose thirty-eight, I slide it into my boot. It’s a tight fit, but I’ll have it for back up. Stopping by my nightstand, opening the drawer, I grab the switch blade, easing it into my pocket. If I lose both guns for some reason, I’ll still have a weapon. Hefting the bag over my shoulder, I lock up the house and jump in the truck.
During the drive, I play through different scenarios in my head. I want to be prepared for anything. No matter what happens, Iwillget Brooke out safely.
Once I turn on route 16, I spot Eric’s car pulled off on the side of the road. As I pass, he nods. He eases onto the pavement, staying a good distancebehind me.
The abandoned factory comes into view, and it feels like my whole fucking body is on fire. I want to jump out of the truck and run to the damn place, thinking I could get there faster.
My girl is in there, injured and suffering.
Nothing can protect them from the hell I’m bringing.
Eric hangs back as I pull into the parking lot. There’s only one vehicle, but I know both of them are here. I park the truck quickly, grabbing the duffle bag as I jump out. Rushing to the door, it whines as I push it open.
Stepping inside, I’m met with my worst fucking nightmare.
Johnson and Brian are standing side by side with Brooke between them, on her knees. She’s covered in blood and filth, her matted hair covering her face as her body slumps forward. She’s trembling uncontrollably, and everything inside me dies at the sight of her.
I’m falling into a black hole.
Hate. Rage. Death.
My jaw clenches so tightly, my teeth are about to crack, but I savor the pain.
Pain.
They hurt her.
They’reabout to know pain.
“Hello, Gabriel. I’m happy you could join us. I’m sorry for the condition Ms. Monroe is currently in, but I needed you to take this seriously.”
Slowly, she raises her head, and my heart stops.
Fuck!
Her eyes are damn near swollen shut, and she’s marred with bruises like she’s been used as a punching bag. My brain pulses against my skull, and my chest caves, dissolving the last bit of humanity inside me.
I snap.
Pulling the gun from my waistband, I point it directly at Johnson’s head. Just as my finger lands on the trigger, Brian jams a gun against Brooke’s temple.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. As much as I’d love to kill this bitch, I love your money more.” Brian grins, pushing the gun harder against her head.
She whimpers helplessly, her eyes locked with mine. “Gabriel.”
She doesn’t sound like herself, and the bruises on her neck catch my attention. I try to focus, but her pain is overwhelming. Everything she’s feeling slams into me, and I’m losing myself to the darkness I’m not familiar with.
I don’t know how to navigate this without her getting hurt.
If she dies, I die.
“Gabriel.” Her raspy voice pulls my attention back to her.
“I’m here, baby girl. It’s okay. We’re going home.” Trying to soothe her with words, she winces as she tries to smile.
My brave girl.
