They won’t change their mind. They’re too blind to see the truth, too stubborn in their ways to even listen to reason. I’ve done everything I can, and now I have to suffer someone else’s consequences at the hands of the men who I thought could have meant so much more.
“I’m gonna fucking kill them,” the voice murmurs as I hear footsteps on the tiled floor, storming toward me. I instinctively pull away. “Shhhhh, baby,” he continues, the familiar tone breaking through my fear. “I’m here now. They’re not going to hurt you anymore. I swear, you’re safe with me.” Hands land on my legs and quickly move up my body as I desperately try to blink back the tears that blur my vision.
I flinch at the familiar touch, immediately kicking them away. “DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME,” I scream, the sheer terror raw in my voice, a clear indication of what they’ve turned me into.
I was a fool to allow myself to get so close to these men. I knew what they were capable of. I should have kept my distance.
“It’s me,” the voice says, frantically gripping onto the straps that hold me down, desperate to free me. “It’s Marcus. You don’t need to be afraid. Roman and Levi are through hurting you, they know you didn’t do it, and fuck, they’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I swear to you, Shayne. You’re fucking safe here. It’s over.”
My head snaps toward him, my eyes wide as I stare in disbelief.
No. This is a trick. Marcus is dead. They told me he was dead, but here he stands right before me.
Marcus stares back at me, his beautiful face a mask of pure horror, taking in exactly what his brothers have done to me. His chest is bare, and I gape as blood trails out from beneath the thick bandaging across his chest. His skin is pale and it’s clear he shouldn’t be out of bed, but I don’t have it in me to berate him on his stupidity as I can barely believe he’s here, standing before me like a fucking avenging angel here to save my fucking life.
“Marc ...” I breathe, my eyes trailing over every damn inch of him as they slowly fill with tears of … fuck, I don’t know. Relief? Joy? Happiness? Disbelief? “I … I thought you were dead. They told me you were dead.”
“I know, baby,” he says, finally getting the straps free and tearing them away from my body before reaching for me. His arms curl around me like I’m the most precious fucking thing he’s ever seen as he holds me tight, not giving a shit about my injuries, just needing to have me close, and fuck, I think I need it too.
He pulls back slightly, taking in my haunted eyes. “Do you really think I can be taken down by a fucking bullet?” he smirks, trying to appear cocky but his exhaustion and pain rule over everything else. “I’m Marcus DeAngelis. I’m a fucking god.”
“I …” a loud sob cuts off my words and he pulls me back in, his hand falling to the back of my head and slowly trailing over my matted hair, doing his best to soothe me as I cry into him. The overwhelming grief and relief rattling me like never before.
“You’re safe,” he whispers, the pain in his tone all too real. “I’m going to take care of you.”
I press my hands against his strong stomach, his skin clammy to the touch as I push him back a step, just needing to take him in. “How … I …” I cut myself off and take a few slow breaths, trying to grip reality. “They thought it was me,” I tell him. “I tried to explain. I screamed, but they wouldn’t listen. They just kept … it hurt so bad and they wouldn’t stop. I … I just ...”
“I know, and trust me, they’re going to be punished for what they did to you,” he says, taking my face in his hands and staring deep into my eyes, silently promising me the world. “I won’t let them get away with this, Shayne. I’m going to see to it that they make it up to you twofold.”
I shake my head. “I don’t ever want to see them again,” I tell him, hot tears stunning my eyes at the very thought of having them in my life. “Please, don’t make me.”
Regret flashes through his dark eyes, and without saying a word, I know that’s not going to happen. “I’m sorry, babe. That’s not an option, not around here. You don’t need to fear them, not anymore.”
“They tortured me, Marcus. Not fearing them is easier said than done,” I whimper as his gaze drops over my exposed stomach, taking in the horrendous injuries from the car wreck. “You didn’t see what they did to me. You’re not the one with the images in your head, the memory of Levi’s hands inside of you while Roman held you down. You don’t know what it was like running for your fucking life with your brother bounding after you, so don’t insult me by telling me that I don’t have to fear them anymore.”