“You ready to get Hartley the fuck outta here?” Death asks me as he remains locked at my side.
“I’m more than ready to bring her home. She never should have been taken in the first fuckin’ place,” I growl out, adrenaline filling me the closer we get to the warehouse.
Sal already did his work and made sure there were going to be no surprises waiting for us. See, with it being his warehouse, he’s got cameras and all sorts of shit set up for when they actually use it for their needs. Currently it was sitting as if it were just another empty warehouse that’s been out of use for a long time now. There are so many abandoned buildings in Braedon and the surrounding towns. He let us know as soon as I called, they checked the feed and saw no one outside. There are two SUVs here and nothing more. We’re going in completely dark without knowing how many men are inside or anyone other than Mona being here.
When we get up to the front door, I pause, the need to get inside surging through me. However, we need to make sure the other guys are in place before we breach the door.
“On my count,” Sal’s voice finally comes over the coms. “Three. Two. One.”
I kick in the door and instead of shoving through, Death pulls me back, shoving me behind him. He’s forever protecting me. Death heads through the door first, his gun raised as shots already sound from the interior of the warehouse. It’s dim with barely any lights on and hard to see the men we’re aiming at. Men who are either on our side or ones we want to take out. Vengeance fills me as I look at the various men in the room quicker than I thought possible. A bullet whizzes past my head as I’m roughly pushed to the ground by Cal who is with us for this mission and not waiting to bring the van up for Hartley.
“Sorry Pres,” he mumbles as I raise my gun and take out a man who was prepared to take the young prospect out.
“Nothin’ to be sorry about. Let’s go find my woman.”
Cal and I stand up and make our way through the main room of the warehouse and down a hallway. Bullets are flying all over the place as we stealthily make our way to the hall and begin searching the rooms on our way down. Not a single one of them are locked letting us know she’s not up here. These fuckers have her in the basement. It’s been cold outside meaning it’s going to be even colder in the basement. From the video, I know there are no blankets covering her up or anything to keep her warm against the cold air surrounding her.
“We headin’ downstairs?” Cal asks, standing just outside the door.
“Yep. That’s where Hartley is. I have no doubt about it.”
Before we can open the door, Death, Tomasso, and a few other men are standing at our back. They’re ready to follow us to the depths of hell in order to get Hartley back. I will go wherever I have to in order to bring her home and make sure nothing else ever touches her again. These men, whether they’re single or not, know what it means to protect the women in our lives and will go above and beyond to make sure any woman we know, and love, is safe and if needed, rescued. Hopefully before too much damage has been done to her.
Cal whips the door open, and we start pounding down the stairs toward the dark, cold, underground of the warehouse. I’m listening for every little sound besides our boots clashing against the cold, unforgiving cement floor. It’s cracked in places with large chunks missing here and there as we get to the bottom of the steps. My eyes immediately go to the right where I find the cells Sal told us about. There are no doors on them, but they’re made to look like cells nonetheless. In the very first one, Mona is standing next to a bed with a sinister smile covering her face.
“You showed up,” she says, her voice no longer nice and pleasant as she growls out the words while staring directly at me. “I knew you wouldn’t let this fucking slut go without chasing after her. For a man who is afraid of commitments, you sure are up her ass like never before. How the mighty will fall.”
“Mona, get the fuck outta the way,” I growl out, cataloging each and every injury on Hartley’s body.
“That’s not how this is going to go. I’m going to get out of here with my nice little body shield here. One gun raised and I’ll slit her throat,” Mona taunts me, barely able to lift Hartley off the disgusting mattress.
“You can’t even carry her,” Death says, standing in front of me. “What are you hopin’ to accomplish here, Mona?”
“I’m getting out of here with my life. That’s what I’ll be accomplishing. When I’m far enough away, I’ll dump the skank off. She’ll either make it or she won’t. Sucks for your dumb ass, Lash.”
Hartley’s eyes have yet to open. Though with the swelling, I’m not sure she could open them even a slit if she wanted to. Not a single sound escapes her with the way Mona is clutching Hart to her body. If I didn’t know my Pixie, I’d think she were a rag doll with the way her head is lolling to the side and each of her limbs are hanging limply at her side. Even her ankles aren’t straight or the way they’d be despite her being out of it. My heart is beating so fast, I’m not sure how it’s still in my chest at this point in time. I’m shaking from head to toe and ready to collapse as my heart shatters with each new injury I spot on her naked body.
Before she can say another word, a gun fires and Mona collapses to the floor. A bullet hole is directly between her eyes as I rush to catch Hartley before she can hit the cement floor beneath her. Carefully lowering her to the floor, I keep her in my arms as the men surround me. Tomasso puts his gun in the back of his jeans before calling someone. My full attention goes back to the woman with her porcelain skin covered in bruises.
“Someone get me somethin’ to cover her the fuck up,” I growl out, not able to take off my own shirt because I’m not letting her go.
Sabotage hands me his shirt without a word as I carefully cover her body. There is no way in hell I’m about to jerk her body around to put a shirt on her. Especially not knowing if she’s got any neck or head injuries. The last thing I want to do is make her worse than what she is.
“Cal get the van so we can get her to the hospital,” Talon orders as he makes his way next to me.
Without a word, Cal heads out of the basement as Death, Sab, Boxer, Talon, and Tomasso help me from the floor with Hartley still in my arms. Still, there’s not a single sound from her. This is not a good sign with her not waking up at all. Worry fills me as we begin to make our way from the basement. Sal stops me for a second to let me know he’ll take care of the shit here at the warehouse and there is no sign of a few key players we were hoping to catch here. Eric included.
WAKING UP, PAIN fills my body. With my eyes opening slightly, I realize in a few minutes I’m in the hospital. Not only because of the stark white walls with a whiteboard and a bunch of numbers on it at the end of my bed, but the incessant beeping coming from the side of me. My vision is slightly blurry as I try to take in details of the room I’m in along with figuring out how I got here. The last thing I remember is Mona beating the shit out of me. Again. This time there was no reason other than Eric being an ass to her. She apparently overheard him talking to some of the guys about fucking me. Talk about a way to piss a woman off. I passed out while she was beating me and don’t remember a single other detail.
When I try to move my arms, there’s a sharp pinch in my hand. My eyes immediately zero in on where the pain is coming from to find an IV line in the back of my hand. Trying to sit up in the bed because I’m so damn uncomfortable, a small groan escapes me. However, I stop moving despite the pain as I look at something sparkly coming from my left hand. On my ring finger rests a diamond ring. It’s not a huge diamond and it’s surrounded by sapphires. The band is silver and now my confusion level spikes even higher than it was a few seconds ago. Trying to move up again so I can get better adjusted, a louder moan leaves me.
Lash’s head laying against my arm catches my attention next. His hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it. It’s standing on end as if he’s been running his long, thick fingers through it constantly. His cut is hanging on the back of the chair he’s in showing off his wrinkled and rumpled tee-shirt as it raises up with the way his body is stretched showing the tan skin of his lower back and side. The barest hint of one of his tattoos shows from under his shirt. My heart catches in my chest knowing he more than likely hasn’t left my side. That’s just based on his appearance, and I haven’t even seen his face yet.
“Pixie, are you okay?” Lash’s voice penetrates the confusion filling me.
“Lash?” I ask, my voice sounding as if I’ve been gargling glass and sand for weeks on end.
“Yeah, baby. I’m here. Been here since you came in,” he informs me, his voice deep and husky from sleep. “Do you need some water?”