Malachy scoots closer, tossing his arm around my shoulder. He pulls me into his chest, and I ache to melt into him and soak up some of his strength.
I’m afraid if I do that, I’ll crumble.
I bite the inside of my cheek until I can taste blood. At least the pain gives me something else to focus on.
Moretti pulls into the warehouse, parks, and climbs from the vehicle.
Patrick follows him out, but I can’t see it.
They put a burlap bag over my head, and my wrists are loosely tied in front of me with what I think might be one of Emory Moretti’s ties.
To be fair, I’m supposed to look like a prisoner. Though all I can seem to focus on is what Miles, Steve, and Vanessa are experiencing.
“I’m right here with you, little one,” Malachy says in barely more than a whisper.
“I know,” I tell him, squeezing my eyes shut as I breathe through the panic.
If someone dies because of me…
It’s like my brain can’t even process it.
The awful part is that I know people are going to die tonight. The most I can hope for is that it’ll only be Blade and his guys.
The door to my left opens and cool air rushes into the car.
I can’t see much outside of shadows, but I pick up Patrick’s smoky campfire scent as his hand lands on my arm.
“I’m going to guide you out of the vehicle,” he says softly.
Malachy scoots over like he’s going to exit the car through my door. His hand cradles my skull, preventing me from bumping my head, as I step out onto what feels like concrete.
“I’d like to see Vanessa now,” Moretti says, his voice deathly calm.
Patrick helps me turn toward what I assume is the MC members opposite us. He keeps hold of my wrist but rubs his thumb along the underside of my arm.
There’s some commotion. Though I have no idea what’s happening, since I still can’t see anything.
Malachy’s scent is close, and Patrick is just behind me and to the right. Cormac is hopefully watching us all through a sniper rifle or something.
“As you can see, she’s in one piece,” Blade says in a low, raspy tone. His voice is different, but close enough to what I remember that I’m sure it’s him. “Now show me my girl.”
A shiver of pure revulsion slides down my spine.
Patrick yanks the sack off my head, and my gaze darts around as I get my bearings. The warehouse has lights, but they’re not especially bright. It still feels like I’m squinting.
There are two SUVs parked at an angle on the opposite side of the warehouse. There are men in front of it, peeking out around it, and probably some behind it.
I stumble backward as Blade comes into view. He’s up in front of the vehicles with a small cluster of two of his guys. There’s a scar across his neck that disappears down into the neckline of the T-shirt he wears under his cut.
Flashbacks flicker through my mind.
The blood.
The scraping sound the knife made as it dragged against his bone.
The gurgling that filled the air when he tried to breathe.
I shake my head, forcing away those memories.
