The thin fabric of my jeggings is no task for the knife, and the second he tucks it under the waistband I feel the material loosen.
“Aw look, you even dressed up for me,” he says, taking in the red lace of my thong.
“Fuck. You,” I spit.
“Oh sweetheart, you’re going to regret that.”
His knife is under the lace, ready to rip it from me, when there’s a commotion out in the hall.
He flinches as his guys move to see what’s going on and the knife cuts into my skin. His eyes drop to where he’s caught me, and an evil smirk appears on his lips.
“Looks like you’ll have a permanent reminder about tonight.”
This time, when my throat burns, I’m unable to stop it. I twist my head to the side and chuck up the contents of my stomach.
Jet’s grip on me never loosens.
The next few moments happen in a blur. We’re joined by others who clearly aren’t part of Jet’s little gang, because seconds after the crash of the door being forced open sounds out, what I can only assume is gunshots and a load of shouting fills the room.
As the commotion continues, Jet releases me, pulling a gun from his waistband, and turns toward the action. That’s as far as he gets. The next thing I know, I’m sprayed with blood and his dead weight crushes me to the desk before we both fall to the floor.
18
Spike
“Will you chill the fuck out?” Zach barks as he watches me in the rearview mirror.
Both of my knees are bouncing nervously as we sit outside the warehouse where fuck knows what is happening inside, like we have for the past ten minutes.
Watching those guys frog-march her inside tested my restraint in a way I’ve never experienced before. I thought it was hard denying her every time she tempted me, but sitting there and watching as they roughly manhandled her was fucking painful.
“Cruz has got this,” D says encouragingly from the passenger seat.
“How aren’t you worried about this?” I snap at Zach.
“What the fuck good is worrying going to do?”
Our eyes hold in the mirror for a few seconds before I lose my fight.
“Fuck this,” I bark, shouldering open the door and launching from the back of his car.
“Spike, no. Wa—” I don’t hang around long enough to hear the rest of Zach’s warning. I can’t just sit out here while she’s going through whatever might be happening inside.
“Fucking hell, Spike,” D calls, jogging up next to me.
“You can’t tell me that you’re happy just waiting.”
“Fuck no, but it’s what we agreed.”
“Fuck what we agreed. She might need us.”
He glances at me briefly. “Fucking hell, Spike. You’ve got it bad.”
“I’ve got nothing other than a need for this to be over.”
“Riiight.”
Thankfully, Zach and Titch catch up with us, stopping him saying any more, but I don’t miss his knowing look as he continues to keep his eyes on me.
“You sure about this?” Zach asks, glancing between me and the door keeping us from seeing what’s going on inside.
“Nope. But it’s not stopped me in the past.” Okay, so I’ve never been outside a warehouse with basically two gangs inside holding a girl hostage, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.
I pull the door open.
The second we step inside, the sound of gunfire stops us in our tracks.
“Fucking hell,” Titch mutters behind me. “We should maybe wait a few.”
“Fuck that.”
Ignoring their hesitation, I rush forward, focusing on the door at the very end where it seems the gunfire is coming from. Before we get there, everything goes quiet.
Peering around the doorway, the scene before me makes my breath catch and my stomach turn.
Bodies litter the floor, blood seeps from them while guys in cuts stand over them with their guns still poised.
Dragging my eyes from the guy closest who’s face-down in his own blood, I scan the room looking for her.
At the other side of the room, I find a desk with two people lying on the floor beside it.
Racing over, I spot an arm with tattoos I instantly recognise.
“Kas,” I cry.
“What the fuck are you—” I glance up to see Cruz staring down at the two of them. Recognition flashes in his eyes when I look up at him, and he lowers his gun.
“Fucking help me then,” I bark, wrapping my hand around the body covering Kas.
He’s dead weight, and the second we pull him off, I recognise him instantly as the guy who had Kas pinned up against the wall outside the club last weekend.
“Shit.” Dropping to my knees, I take Kas’ face in my hands. “Kas, Kas.” I rub my thumbs over her eyes, wiping the blood away that I hope to fuck isn’t hers. “Tiny?” I whisper, my heart racing as I search for signs of life.
A noise rips from her throat, and I swear the world around me comes to a stop right there and then.
“I-I’m okay.”
“Fuck. Fuck.” I drop my head to hers as relief floods me.
I give myself two seconds to get it together before I pull back. My teeth clench to the point at which I think I’m going to crack one when I look down to find her clothing ruined and her body on display for all the cunts in this room.
Without putting any thought into it, I reach over my head and pull my shirt off. I’m just pulling it down over her torso when feet come to a stop beside me.
“Is she okay?” Zach asks in a rush.
She’s fallen limp in my arms. Honestly, I have no idea.
“She spoke to me. She was awake.”
I watch as he bends down and attempts to scoop her up into his arms. He’s almost lifted her from the floor when she starts to fight.
“No, no,” she wails, her arms flailing and legs kicking.
“Whoa, Kas. It’s okay, it’s just me.”
“No,” she cries, the broken sound to her voice ripping me open, but that’s nothing compared to what happens next.
She relaxes slightly,
