Once we reach our destination, two men kick open the door before throwing tear gas grenades down the concrete steps. Chaos ensues down in the bunker with men yelling and scrambling to the surface for clean air.
And that’s when they meet their maker.
A few come stumbling out, coughing violently with puffy, red eyes and saliva running out of their mouths. Two are gunned down instantly. But when I recognize Nolan Farrell at the back of the group, I go for him immediately, claiming him for myself.
Taking hold of Nolan, I throw him to the ground beside me. The old man fights me, but I pin down his arms with my knees as I unsheathe the knife that’s strapped around my calf.
Staring into his eyes, I sink the blade deep into his chest, making sure to wiggle it between his ribs until it’s piercing his heart.
“This is for Victoria,” I hiss through clenched teeth as I pound the hilt of the knife with my fist, jamming the blade straight into the frantically pumping muscle.
Nolan struggles, but only for a few moments. I watch as the light leaves his eyes, and then his body goes limp under me.
His death was certainly too quick and too painless to pay for what he did, and I wish I could have taken my time by inflicting the same torture on him as he did with my girl.
But as I push myself up and stand above his lifeless body, I know my vengeance doesn’t matter here.
The only thing that matters here is saving Victoria.
Bodies litter the ground as I make my way down into the bunker. A few of Baz’s men are already down here, now that the tear gas has cleared out.
There are several rooms in the back of the bunker with a hallway connecting all of them. I open door after door, using the flashlight on my phone to search each one.
Most are filled with old, dusty supplies as if the former owners were preparing themselves for the end of the world.
The final door I come to is locked from the outside with a heavy, steel bar. I push up on the bar and rip open the door.
There, on the concrete floor, curled into a ball in a dirty, ratty blanket is Victoria. She looks so fragile and weak, and I can hear the death rattle in her lungs from here.
A whimper escapes her as I step closer.
“Fuck,” I mutter, faltering and scrubbing a hand down my face.
I thought I was prepared to see the state of her…to see her in this condition, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
And if I had to do it all over again, I would have taken Nolan Farrell with us. I would have killed him so fucking slowly and made him regret the day he dared touch Victoria Ciccone.
Pushing all my homicidal thoughts aside, I scoop Victoria into my arms, assuring her that she’s safe now.
I make a vow that I won’t let anyone ever hurt her again.
And anyone that tries will have to go through me and my fucking army first.
CHAPTER 14
VICTORIA
I AWAKE TO the sound of chaos all around me. Men are yelling and cursing, and I can hear heavy footsteps running. When I open my eyes, the bright light that used to always blind me has been turned off, and I’m surrounded by total darkness. I can’t help but wonder if I’m dead.
Suddenly, gunshots reverberate through the thick walls, and I curl up into a ball, covering my ears with my hands, trying to block out the awful sounds.
My lungs rattle as I take in shallow breaths, and my entire body aches from just trying to breathe.
My eyelids slip shut once more. I’m too weak to even keep them open.
I’m dying.
Or maybe I’m already dead.
