Page 92 of Devil’s Promise

“It’s Gunner…” he starts.

I snatch my phone up, bringing it to my ear. “What’s wrong with Gunner?”

“Vincent’s got Gunner.” Axel shifts the gears of his car, I hear it. “Holding him at that crack house he uses as his headquarters. I saw them pushing Gun into the basement. But there were too many of them and I couldn’t even get close…”

“Fuck,” I spit. And to think, I was going to cut that fucker in on a deal.

“I’m sure Vincent means to get us to turn over Promise, or maybe just concede power. But you know how Gunner is about being touched…” Axel blows out a breath. “If they’re trying to beat something out of him…”

I get the problem. Gunner might lose his grip on sanity. I slow the car, taking the next exit off the highway. “I’m going to drop Promise at the club with Knox. Where should I meet you?”

“I’m fifteen minutes from the club. I’ll meet you there.”

“Good.”

Promise touches my arm. “What’s wrong with Gunner?”

I look at her. Gunner understood before I did what Promise might mean to me. To all of us. “Vincent is holding him.”

Promise gasps. “Angel, we have to help him.”

I turn to her. “You have to stay safe. But yes…Axel and I…” It’s beyond dangerous. Fortunately, I’ve got a few pieces of collateral of my own. I call Rock and then ask him to call Killian.

I need soldiers. The kind that will help me keep the peace even as I make sure that this shit never happens again. I haven’t forgotten Promise or my ultimate goals.

I’ve got to try to keep my head as I help my brother.

Screaming into the parking lot of the club, I park the car and trot around to get Promise’s door.

But that’s when I catch a shadow out of the corner of my eye. I turn, but too late; I feel something hard hit the back of my head.

I see stars and then the world goes black…

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Promise

I’m dreaming again. But this time, I’m not running through a maze, not sitting having a polite conversation.

This time…I’m lying in a pool of blood.

I try to move, but I can’t get my limbs to work. Is that because I’m asleep? Or is this the end?

“Sweetheart,” my mother whispers close to my ear. “Promise. Don’t give up yet.”

“I’m not giving up,” I answer. “I’m just tired.”

“You’ve got Angel now. You just have to have a little faith.” She touches my head, her touch soothing me.

“I’m not sure, Mama. Sometimes I think I do and then other times I think he might not be mine at all.”

“I disagree,” she whispers back. “He’s redeeming himself nicely. You have to trust him.”

I shake my head. “But what if the problem is me? What if I’m not enough? What if I never have been?”

“Put it out of your head. Now this is very important, it’s time for you to wake up.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I answer, watching the stain of blood spread, feeling like all the strength is slipping from my very soul.