Giovanni narrows his gaze, and after a short pause, he drops his chin. As if on cue, another one of his henchmen comes striding in with a young girl held tightly in his impenetrable grasp. I get just a glimpse of her tear-streaked face and find her bound and gagged, covered head to toe in cuts and bruised with a face that I would recognize anywhere.
Abigail Henderson, one of the only girls from the club that I could have called a friend. “NOOOOO,” I scream, my throat immediately aching as I rush forward. Two strong hands grip my arms, locking me in a vice-like hold.
Tears stream down her face and she watches me with fear, but before I even get a chance to plead for her life, Giovanni looks my way. “I’ve made my choice.” And just like that, a perfectly round bullet plunges right between her eyes.
23
Abigail’s lifeless body drops to the ground as a ferocious cry tears from the back of my throat. Blood splatters across the wall behind her and my hand shoots down to the hip of the guard who holds me. Without a second thought, my palm curls around the cool metal at his hip and I tear the gun right out of its holster.
My arm rises and I wildly shoot as a fucking battle cry tears out of my throat. The kickback has me falling back against the guard as the bullet strays through the small room, the sound of the gun ringing in my ears.
Men drop to the ground, terrified of death, but not the boys. Levi lashes out, socking his father right in the face as Roman and Marcus jump straight into action, more than ready to fight for their lives.
The three of them jump their father as the guards rush in, desperate to find some kind of peace. Marcus growls, a ferocious sound that tears at my chest, leaving him wide open.
I’m thrown on top of Abigail’s lifeless body as the guard who held me races in to be the fucking hero of the hour. I crawl off her, unable to glance down in fear of what I might see. The pain is too fucking real, but right now, I can’t think about it, I just need to get out.
A clatter sounds on the ground to my right and my head snaps up to find the small remote sliding across the marble tiles. I scurry after it, desperately trying to avoid the wild scuffle around me. I throw myself toward it, the gun forgotten on the ground beside me.
My hands shake as Marcus’ pained groans echo through the room, but I get it in my hands, flipping it over to somehow try and make sense of the remote. There are buttons everywhere but I have to be fast. The boys don’t stand a fucking chance with those shock collars around their throats, and I have no way to know if this is the only remote.
Guns sound through the room as the scuffle continues, pained grunts and curses flying from left to right. Blood splatters across the room as Giovanni’s men work tireless to try and free their boss, but even with a man down, the brothers are un-fucking-stoppable.
Marcus drops to his knees as the pain becomes unbearable and I fret, not understanding a damn thing written across the front of the remote. This shit is written in German. “I … I don’t know how to turn it off,” I cry out, the panic quickly beginning to overwhelm me.
Marcus’ head snaps up as he grips the sides of the shock collar, desperately trying to pry it from his charred skin. Relief sparks in his eyes as he sees the remote in my hands “THE BIG—ARGHHH—RED ONE.”
I slam my thumb down over it and the electrifying shock crippling Marcus comes to an immediate stop. He doesn’t allow himself even a moment to recover before he throws himself to his feet and races toward me.
He snatches the remote right out of my hands and hits a few more buttons, and in unison, the three shock collars around the boys’ throats click open. Marcus pulls it free from his neck and I can’t help but notice the raw skin beneath as he reaches down and grips my arm.
I’m pulled to my feet and shoved toward the door, but before I can even get a step away, one of Giovanni’s men comes for me. Marcus spins with his jaw clenched, and as a piercing scream tears from my throat, he takes the metal collar and beats the living shit out of the guy.
He lays dead at my feet as Marcus grabs my shoulders and shoves me toward the door. “GO,” he roars. “GO AND FUCKING HIDE.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
I race for the door, glancing back just in time to watch Marcus slam the remote against a heavy wooden desk, smashing it into a thousand pieces. Roman stands just over his shoulder, snapping the neck of one of the guards while Levi grabs a man’s head in his big hands and digs his thumbs deep into his eye sockets.