Marcus sails down the rest of the steps and I quickly follow behind. We hit the bottom, and just as we turn a corner into a wide concrete cell, a metal pole comes hurtling toward Marcus’ head. His hand snaps up with quick reflexes and catches the pole just moments before it would’ve cracked his skull.
“Marc?” Ariana breathes, her eyes wide as her chest rises and falls with quick, panicked movements, assuming we had been Phillip coming back for more.
“Fuck,” Marcus says, throwing the metal pole aside as Ariana drops to the dirty ground, grazing her knees as she begins to sob into her hands, the relief overwhelming her system.
“What in the ever-loving fuck is this?” I ask, glancing past her into the fucked-up little room where Phillip has been keeping her. It’s set up like an old home from the seventies. An old metal frame bed with a flower duvet. There’s even an old-fashioned nightstand with a lamp, which I’m assuming doesn’t work. A small bathroom that offers no privacy and no shower. There’s even a fully stocked dresser with old brushes, hair curlers, and makeup.
Marcus scoffs, kicking the metal pole and sending it halfway across the room. “Apparently, Phillip has some mommy issues,” he mutters as Ariana takes a deep breath and tries to pull herself together.
“Yeah, they’re not his only issues,” I tell him, reaching down to Ariana and grabbing her arm, trying to be gentle, but it’s not like we have all day. “Come on. We need to go.”
I tug hard and am met with resistance as Ariana cries out. “Fucking hell. Stop. Do you think I’m just sitting down here like some fucking damsel waiting for some bitch to come and save me?” she spits, reminding me that she’s not just the woman who saved me from Phillip, but also the woman who set me up with Lucas Miller to be tortured and murdered. “I’m chained.”
My gaze drops and I cringe, finding the ankle cuff and heavy chain that’s bolted to the wall by her bed, giving her just enough space to get around her room, but not giving her the chance to get anywhere near the stairs. “Shit,” I grunt, looking around the room for some kind of way to free her. I should have noticed the chain before, but I was too distracted by the hell hole she’s been living in.
I’m busy searching when Marcus pulls the gun from the waistband of his jeans. “Do you trust me?” he asks Ariana.
Her eyes bug out of her head, reading his intentions and gaping at him as though he’s lost his fucking mind. “Do I trust you?” she shrieks, panic taking over as she holds up her hand that has the angry scarring from when Marcus pinned her to her front door with a knife. “That’s a joke, right?”
Marcus rolls his eyes, not really down for her dramatics after the day he’s had. “What else do you suggest?” he demands, arching a brow at her. “I can either shoot the chains off and hope to fucking God that the bullet doesn’t ricochet and kill me, or I can fucking leave you here. Worst case scenario, I miss and you get a fucking hole in your foot, best case, you get to see the fucking light of day and walk free. Take your pick.”
Ariana quickly shoots her gaze toward me, silently questioning if she should trust him, and I shrug my shoulders. “He managed to pin your hand to the door with that knife from thirty feet away without skipping a damn beat. He’s your best option … your only option.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she mutters before bringing her foot forward and looking away.
BANG!
Marcus shoots before Ariana’s head has even completely turned away, and I stare in shock. I’d expected a countdown or something like that, but no, he didn’t even give her the consideration of aiming first. Just shot like there were absolutely no consequences. But when it comes to Marcus DeAngelis, there rarely are, and that’s proven a moment later when the chain snaps under the bullet’s pressure and falls aside.
I suck in a loud gasp as Ariana screams. Her head instantly whips down to her ankle, finding the cuff still tight around her skin but free of her chain. “Fuck,” she breathes wide-eyed.
“Let’s go,” he snaps, not giving her a moment to catch her breath.
He grips my hand and drags me back to the stairs, not giving a shit if she follows or not, but she’s not stupid. She knows an opportunity like this will never come again. She trails behind us, sticking right on my heels in her desperation to get out.
As we reach the top of the stairs and walk back out into the big office, I find myself pulling back on his hand. “Hey,” I say, stopping him in his tracks as Ariana steps around us, hovering close. Marcus looks back at me, his dark eyes meeting mine with hurt. “Are we okay?”
He watches me a moment longer before a softness creeps into his hard exterior, breaking him down. He steps back into me, resting his hand at my waist. “Yeah,” he finally says. “It’s one thing seeing you with Levi. That started off slowly and I had time to prepare, but Roman. He went balls to the fucking wall and claimed you in a way that Levi and I just can’t seem to do.”
My brows furrow and I shake my head. “What are you talking about? It was just sex. There’s nothing more there.”
He shakes his head. “I ain’t talking about the sex, babe. The fact that you got through to him like that, made him see reason and calm down when his whole fucking world is caving in on him. He’s going to try and take you for himself, and you’ll be so fucking blinded by it that you’ll go willingly.”
I push up onto my tippy toes and rest my hand against his warm cheek, hating that my actions today have made him doubt the way I feel for him. “That will never happen,” I murmur, brushing my lips against his. “It’s not possible because a life without you by my side isn’t a life worth living.”
He pulls back to look directly into my eyes. “Promise?”
I nod as a smile tears across my face. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
Marcus grips my chin and draws me back in to kiss me deeply, making butterflies swarm through my stomach. “And don’t you fucking forget it.”
20
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“FUCK,” I screech, throwing myself out of bed, wide-eyed and panting. My heart races as I peer around, trying to find the threat. My frantic glare lands on the big asshole sitting across the room, looking guilty as shit with his hands paused mid-air over his drum set.
“Shit, did I wake you?” Levi questions as the single light from his private bathroom sets a spotlight over him and his drum set.