“No,” I say, flying up off the bench and trying to yank the shirt out from under the collar. “Absolutely not. This is insane. What kind of fucked-up idea is this? You’re not putting that thing anywhere near me. What happened to the key?” I demand as my fingers go to the small, bolted lock at the front of the collar.
Levi’s face pulls into a guilty cringe. “When we were processed by the FBI, they took everything I had on me. The key is gone. This is our best shot.”
“FUCK.”
I pace around the dirty shop taking long deep breaths as my hands ball in and out of fists at my side, desperately trying to give myself a pep talk. It’s nothing. Just a big-ass sharp blade spinning at a million miles per hour right by my neck. Not a stupid idea in the least. It makes all kinds of sense.
Shit. I’m fucking screwed. And here I thought I was going to die during some brutal attack, and all along I was going to be taken down by a spinning blade.
I allowed this to happen. What the fuck is wrong with me?
My terrified stare locks onto Marcus. “You better make it fast and I swear, if you tear through my skin, I’m going to come back from the dead and haunt your ass like never before.”
“It’s cool, babe. Believe it or not, this ain’t my first rodeo.”
My eyes bug out of my head and I gape at him, wondering when in the fresh hell he would have had to do this before, but instead of asking the question of the hour, I turn toward Roman and Levi. “You two are going to have to hold me down.”
Levi nods as Roman cringes. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he says, his gaze sweeping to the healing tattoo on his arm, the tattoo that has done nothing but remind me of what happened the night Marcus was shot every time I see it.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, my jaw clenched, not wanting to get into the finer details with Jasmine here. “Just do it.”
Roman holds my stare for a long moment before finally nodding, and a part of me wonders who this is supposed to be harder for—me or him?
Marcus plugs in the grinder and it fires to life, the horrific sound of the blade spinning scaring the shit out of me as I make my way back to the bench. Levi helps me lay down before spreading the shirt over my face and body. He grips my hand and I squeeze tight as I feel Marcus move in beside me, his strong thigh pressed up against my arm.
Ahh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Clenching my eyes, I swallow over the massive lump in my throat as I feel Levi and Roman press down over me like a vice. With my full attention locked on the grinder, I don’t even notice Roman’s strong hands holding me down.
Marcus brings the grinder over the collar and the sound of the blade cutting into the thick metal has me wildly thrashing and fretting beneath the boys’ strong hold. The collar heats up just as Levi explained, and I feel the sparks hitting the part of my skin that the shirt doesn’t cover.
The smell of burning metal hits me and I clench my eyes, willing it to be over. Levi’s thumb moves slowly across my skin and I focus everything I have on that.
Seconds tick by before Marcus cuts the power on the grinder and pulls back. “It’s done,” Marcus mutters as Roman grips my arms and helps me sit up. The metal is hot and they wrap their hands in old rags to pull the collar from around my neck until I’m finally free and able to leave the last of the night in my past.
I take a shaky breath but before I can completely recover, Marcus is looking at Jasmine. “You’re up,” he tells her.
Her eyes bug out of her head but seeing that I’m just fine, she reluctantly takes my place on the bench. Levi threads his shirt through the narrow space at her neck just as he had for me, and I cringe as Roman moves in to hold her down.
Jasmine whimpers and I can’t help but feel for her knowing what a powerful man holding her down must be doing to her right now.
Marcus makes quick work of her collar and before I know it, we’re making our way out of the shop, letting the heavy door fall shut behind us. I step up to the side of the Escalade as Marcus and Levi walk around the opposite way to get in, but I find myself reaching out to Roman, gripping onto his elbow as he reaches for the door handle.
“What is it?” he questions, pausing as he glances back at me, the soft breeze of the early morning brushing against our bodies.