Heathens (Depraved Sinners 2)
Levi’s hands ball into fists, not liking the idea of someone attempting to take what’s his as Roman mutters from the front seat. “Look, you can stay with us for the night. Make some calls and figure yourself out, but no more than that. I don’t know this guy. He could be anyone and I’m not putting my neck out for you or risking my brothers’ lives,” he says. “If he comes looking for you, sure, we’ll happily put him down, but we’re not going on a witch hunt for you.”
She nods as a wave of sadness comes over her. “I understand,” she says in a small voice, having hoped that the brothers would move heaven and hell to save her and be her unexpected heroes, but if that’s what she was wanting, she’s going to be sorely disappointed. These boys only do things that immediately benefit themselves … and I guess me too.
“You’re going to be okay,” I tell her in a small voice, trying to keep our conversation somewhat private. “Call your husband when we get back and organize a place to meet. We’ll drop you off and after that, you guys should take the fuck off. Change your names and build a new life in a different country, somewhere he won’t find you. You’re going to be fine. Get yourself a gun and learn how to breathe again.”
Jasmine swallows hard and gives me a forced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, though I see the gratefulness buried deep below her grief. She’s glad to be out of there and happy to be able to see her family again, but the haunting memories are going to kill her. She’s going to need one hell of a therapist after this.
We get an hour into our trip when Roman veers off the pavement, pulling up a cloud of smoke as he turns onto a dirt road, following a sign that reads ‘JOE’S AUTO SHOP.’
“What are we doing?” I question, sitting up straighter to peer out the window.
“You want those things off your necks, don’t you?”
My hand falls to the heavy collar and relief pulses through me as I turn my gaze to Roman. Warmth rushes through me. He could have easily waited until we got back to the castle and had one of his brothers free us, but this just goes to show that sometimes, he’s not the cold-hearted asshole he always strives to be. A beaming smile spreads across my face. “Fuck yeah.”
Roman pulls up at the front roller door of the shop and we all peer around for a quick moment. “Nobody’s home,” Marcus mutters, noticing what we all do—there are no cars, no lights, and judging by the thick chain and lock hanging from the front door, nobody has been home for a while.
We pile out of the car and Levi fucks around in the back of the Escalade as we make our way to the door. Jasmine sticks right by my side, still not trusting the boys, but knowing that right now, they’re her only hope. Levi meets us a moment later with a massive pair of bolt cutters and I stare at him in wonder. “You just keep those in the back of the car?”
His brows furrow as he glances back at me. “You don’t?”
Fucking hell.
Turning my attention back to the door, I watch as Levi steps in and cuts through the thick chain like it was nothing but a piece of wet paper. His muscles roll and I’m completely mesmerized until I remember that these assholes are the ones responsible for putting me into this stupid collar in the first place.
We waste no time, rushing inside and hitting the lights. Marcus walks through the place like he’s in his element, knowing exactly what he’s looking for as he reaches back and takes my hand. He leads me through the dirty shop and my face scrunches, smelling something that isn’t sitting well with my stomach.
Jasmine sticks with me as Marcus leads me to a bench, pushes me down, and takes off toward a workbench. He scurries through some things, looking high and low until a grin stretches wide over his face.
He pulls down some kind of circle-shaped saw contraption and I gape at it in horror. “What the fuck is that?” I screech, the thought of what he plans to do with it sinking in and weighing down on my shoulders.
“It’s a grinder,” he says, walking back toward me while searching the shop for an outlet. “It’ll slice through that collar like butter.”
Ahhhhhhh, shit. I should have known. When it comes to the DeAngelis brothers, nothing is ever easy.
“Here,” Levi says, yanking off his shirt and stepping into me. “It’ll be hot and sparks are going to come at you like fireworks,” he explains as he threads the shirt through the small space between my neck and the collar and spreads out the rest of it to protect as much of my skin as possible.