He nods once. He’s not himself but neither am I. He’s also got something he doesn’t want to tell me; I can feel it in my bones and see it in the way he’s avoiding telling me.
“Just tell me, Tyson. Between us we have no secrets,” I say slowly.
His breathing hitches slightly, “Her underwear is missing from the piles of clothes we found.”
I’m pretty sure one of my molars snap under the pressure of how hard I clamp my teeth down. I know she’s alive, I can feel her through our bond but what kills me is I canfeelher and she’s struggling.
Chapter
Fifty-Two
TRISTAN
Iliked it better when it was dark. But Rex leaves the lights on now and leaves the door wide open.
He kicks a bottle over the floor towards me. A half empty bottle. “You gotta drink, sweet cheeks, can’t having my kid thinking I’m not being hospital.”
“Hospitable,” I correct him. Staring right through his god-awful eyes to the wall where I’d like to see his brain splatter out.
“You say something?” He stands up, no longer leaning against the door.
“I’m not sure what you’re waiting for,” I say, talking louder than necessary, “It looks you were right, and I was wrong. No one is coming. Not even Steel.”
And yes, there is probably nothing good from me mouthing off at Rex but I’m tired. So fucking tired of waiting and hoping.
He takes a step forward, purposely intimidating but there’s still enough distance between us for me to turn and hide as best I can in the corner. His hands are in my hair yanking me backwards but I’m putting all my weight into going forward, it’s a battle of wills, one that I will undoubtedly lose. He’ll snap soon but that might be better than waiting.
Rex flips our latest clash by shoving me forward and my head slams against the wall before I bounce backwards, hitting him. He steps out of the way and I drop to the ground.
I’ve also stopped begging because much like my screams he seems to love hearing me plead. And it does nothing. So, I figure, why give him any more of me, especially since I’m completely out of fucks to give.
Looking up at him, I can see how I’m going to have to change my tactics again. There is way too much heat in his evil eyes. There’s been way too many women coming and going too, but not for the last while which explains the sicko looking at me like I’m his next conquest.
Rex goes to squat and I push up to scurry back to the corner when the room plunges into darkness. In the next heartbeat, there’s a series of gunshots or maybe they’re missiles being fired because the noise is deafening.
I scream.
Big mistake on my part because it gives Rex a clue where I am. He lunges, and the two of us stumble as we fight in the dark until he gets the upper hand and I get the cool press of a blade against my face.
I don’t think I even remember to breathe, but I must because I swear I get the slightest tease of a scent I know so well. Or scents should I say. Lemon so tart my mouth dries up, blackberries prickly as the thorns on the bush, and bourbon so strong my eyes water.
Outside of the room is eerily quiet after the explosive gunfire. My heart is beating so fucking fast and all the fight and flight instincts I thought I had under control kick out and I’m flooded with adrenaline. It’s not even by choice that I move. I’ve got that much panic in my veins I fucking fly. I don’t know how I escape out of Rex’s hands but I do. I run and run and run until I slam face first into a chest I’d know anywhere in the entire universe.
“King!” I make an ungodly noise, like a cry, a scream all rolled into one.
“Killer, get your ass behind me.” He growls and wrong time, wrong place, but I laugh—stress does weird things to people. I can hear the click of his tongue in annoyance, but he’s happy too. In the next instant, he jostles in front of me before I’m wearing one of his long-sleeved tops. All I can smell is him, all I can feel is his warmth and it seeps into some brand-new deep fucking gouges in my soul.
“Go.” He growls.
“He’s got a knife,” I say, taking a reluctant step away and then another, walking blindly but I manage to walk straight into Tyson who instead of arguing or telling me off simply wraps his arms around and squeezes more life back into me, whispering the sweetest damn words I’ve ever heard in my ear.
He only gives me a few moments, before he barks in my ear. “I got some business to take care of. Go to Mav.”
Same Alpha presence as King, completely different delivery method, and I feel better again. Maybe because I’ve found them or they’ve found me, but the darkness that’s been eating at me seems to recede a little and I see the outline of Mav. I leap at him, of course he catches me and I hide out in his blackberry scent, forgetting for a few moments what I’ve been through. But Mav has always had this ability to make me feel so safe with him, maybe because I’ve seen how he fights. Either way he’s always been so freaking sweet and he’s never shied away from our connection.
“Tristan.” Maverick sighs as he curls an arm around me, his head on my shoulder like he’s the one who’s been struggling to keep it together. Before he can say another word, there’s a noise behind the both of us and we freeze.
“Is she here?” A soft groan from deeper in the dark, carries with it Steel’s butterscotch scent.
