We get out, and the Bonetti brothers exit their vehicle and stand beside us.
“Second floor. Right there. Room number two hundred three.” Bones says while pointing.
Knox, Carter, and I walk to the stairwell with the brothers behind us when we spot her door opening. Heather walks through the doorway, but she isn’t alone. A man I have never seen holds her arm while she sobs. That’s not the worst part. It’s her face, black and blue along with a bloodied lip. All three of us draw our guns as he drags her down the steps.
“Let her go or take a bullet in your fucking brain.”
Heather stares at us, regret swimming in her swollen gaze.
“This fucking whore is going to the boss. You can have her body back after he is done with her.”
He laughs maniacally, reminding me of the filthy priest.
“Carter,” I speak in a hushed voice.
Out of the three of us he has the best aim, and I don’t want to risk her getting shot. We have no room for mistakes.
He fires the shot, and it lands straight in this fucker's forehead. His body tumbles down the stairs along with Heather, and we race to her.
Carter holsters his gun and gets to her first, and she stares at him with so much emotion I can’t even begin to identify it.
“Carter,” she whispers. He touches her cheek gently as she winces from the obvious pain.
She turns her gaze to me, and as grateful as I am that she’s alive, I’m still so pissed off.
“You are in so much fucking trouble.”
Bones stands beside me, giving instructions.
“Take her to Platinum Suites. They are expecting you and will immediately get you into your room. I have arranged for a doctor to see her shortly. We will take care of this guy,” he points to the man on the stairs, “and then meet up with you to discuss our next move.”
I extend my hand, and he shakes it.
“Thank you, Bones. If it weren’t for you, we would’ve been too late.”
He nods and walks over to the body with his brothers behind him. Carter lifts Heather into his arms and carries her to the SUV. Once she’s safely inside we all get in. Sitting with her face in her hands, she cries softly.
Carter and Knox sit on either side of her, cuddling her and promising everything will be okay. I don’t follow suit. I’m so furious with her I can’t fucking see straight.
“Killian.” She says while reaching for my hand.
“Don’t. Just fucking don’t.”
Every time I start to calm down and look at her, the injuries on her face renew my anger. This did not have to happen. She put herself in danger—and we could’ve lost her permanently.
“Who was he?” I ask, my voice sounding as furious as I am.
“Diego. He works for Grave-in the g-aa-ng.” She stammers.
I avoid looking at her because it physically hurts.
“And how did he end up at the motel with his fucking hands on you?”
Her soft cries turn into full sobs as she chokes out, “I called my father for him to get me so I could pro-tt-ect you.”
Now I do look at her as I hiss through clenched teeth.
“Really? It doesn’t look to me like we needed the protection. We are fine while you’ve been beaten. I’m afraid to even ask what else he did to you!”
