Maniacs (Depraved Sinners 4)

Levi grunts as Marcus’ weight is lifted off his side and I reach down, slipping my arm around the back of his ribs and pulling his arm over my shoulder. He grips onto the metal bars and pulls himself up off the ground, his weight bearing down on me.

We move out of Levi’s cell, and I pause by Roman’s. “Give me a second,” I warn Levi, making sure he’s got his balance before I dive to the filthy ground, shoving the sheathed daggers and bullets into my pockets and tucking the gun into my waistband. Bouncing back to my feet, I grab Levi again and fall in behind Roman.

We’re on the home straight, but it’s going to be a fucking hike back to the stolen Corolla, and another two-hour drive back to civilization to get help. I try to pull it together and think positive for the boys, but we’re not even close to being out of the woods.

We’re only halfway down the long row of cells before a light sheen of sweat begins to coat Roman’s skin. “What’s the plan?” he grunts, already breathless.

My heart shatters. Marcus is a heavy fucker on his best day, but with open stab wounds and no food or water for a week while slowly bleeding to death, asking Roman to carry him all that way would be cruel. He’s weak, all three of them are knocking on death’s door, only Marcus has already been invited in. Making it all the way back through the woods to the car would be … fuck.

“I have a car,” I tell him, breathing heavily while trying to support Levi’s weight, terrified with just how much he’s declined since last night. “It’s out in the woods, where you guys dug that escape tunnel.”

“Shit,” Levi grunts. “If we could get back through the castle and use the tunnel, we could hide out, take breaks.”

Roman pauses, leaning his back against a cell while adjusting Marcus in his arms. “Can’t,” he grunts, the exhaustion already showing on his face. “Too risky. They’ll catch us. We have no choice but to make a break for it across the fucking lawn and hope we make it to the woods before bullets start flying.”

I meet Roman’s worried stare, my chest heaving with heavy pants. “Giovanni doesn’t know I’ve slipped away. The guards aren’t looking for me yet, but it won’t be long until someone realizes I’ve gone. This is our only shot. We won’t get another chance to do this.”

He tips his head back against the bars as Levi grips onto one behind us, giving me a moment to catch my breath. “We take turns,” Levi suggests. “You can’t carry him across the whole fucking property, not without collapsing.”

“Look at you,” Roman spits. “You can barely even stand. You can’t take him. Don’t fool yourself.”

I begin pacing, my hands pressing against my temples before the pain slices through me and I remember the fucking beating my head took only a few short hours ago. I glance up at Roman, an idea beginning to form. “We need something to take Marcus’ weight,” I tell him, my brain spinning in desperation to make this work. “If I could … I don’t know … push him, like a shopping cart, or something like that, then you can support Levi and then maybe … just maybe we might have an actual shot at getting out of here.”

Roman glances at Levi, doing that silent conversation bullshit they do that I often find endearing, except for right fucking now. I need to know what they’re thinking, need to know how this is going to work … if it will work.

“No,” Roman finally says. “It’s too fucking risky.”

“Do you have a fucking brighter idea?” Levi shoots back at him. Roman’s lips press into a hard line before he catches his breath and pushes off the bars of the cell, ready to walk a little further. Levi loops his arm over my shoulder once again, but this time he doesn’t quite need as much help. “That’s what I thought.”

Roman mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like, “If you weren’t already dead, I’d fucking kill you myself.”

“Okay,” I cut in before this goes any further south. “Just tell me whatever the fuck it is you’re refusing to tell me, and I’ll get it done.”

Roman clenches his jaw, side eyeing his brother before letting out a pained curse. “We had this big guy, Big Tony. Weighed about 450 pounds. We needed a cart to haul his ass around. It’s hidden way out back in a storage shed, not visible from the castle. But you’d have to cross the fucking property, putting you at risk, and I’m not okay with it.”

I scoff. “You think I was okay with you being stabbed right in front of my fucking eyes? You think I was cool with watching you fall to your knees and listening to you screaming at me to run? No, it fucking killed me, but sometimes, we don’t get a fucking choice. So, screw you and your need to be an overprotective asshat. I’m getting the fucking cart. I’m the only one who’s got the stamina to do it right now. I’m getting the fucking thing and then we’re getting this big motherfucker out of here. Got it?”

Roman glares at me, not liking the idea one bit, but he doesn’t have it in him to argue. He knows it’s our only shot, and as much of a stupid idea as it is, it’s got merit.

It takes us almost twenty minutes of agonizing steps to finally see daylight, and by the time the late afternoon sun is shining down on our faces, blood has already begun pooling on Roman’s shirt, but the stubborn fucker hasn’t said a word.

The boys quickly find somewhere to hide, and without a backward glance or even a semblance of a goodbye, I take off like a raging bull, knowing damn well that time is running out. Giovanni is bound to have noticed my absence by now. He has a bruised ego, and men like that can’t handle it. He’ll be determined to destroy me, to prove something, and he’ll do it as many times as it takes to get me to either change my mind or suffer enough that I simply never want to mention it again.

Keeping to the shadows, I run as far as I can around the perimeter of the castle, only breaking out into the open at the very last moment. My heart races from more than just the strenuous run, and by the time I reach the hidden garden shed right in the back of the property, I’m certain that I would have been seen.

My back presses up against the storage shed and I listen out, trying to clear my mind and focus just like the boys taught me and when no shouting or bullets seem to come flying my way, I get back to work. It takes only a moment to find the cart, and just to be safe, I grab a rope as well. On my way out, a small refrigerator catches my eye, and I nearly sigh in relief when I find it filled with water for the groundskeepers.

I load up everything there is and quickly search for a first aid kit. It’s doubtful that a man like Giovanni, or even the boys would be OSHA compliant with safety supplies for their workers, but there’s bound to be some fucking bandages somewhere. Finding a small kit near the entrance, I toss it in with my other supplies. It won’t be enough for what the boys need, but it should at least give them a sliver of hope.

Not wanting them to have to wait another second, I grab hold of the cart and race through the property like a fucking bat out of hell. I stare down the castle in the distance, hating just how far I still have to go and knowing that all it would take is one guard to walk across a single window to see me racing through the yard.

The run takes me only a moment, but it feels like a lifetime before I’m able to dive back into the shadows of the castle. The boys have managed to walk a little further to meet me in the middle and without even a moment of hesitation, Roman dumps Marcus’ heavy body onto the cart before switching him out for a bottle of water.

Levi does the same, and they each take small sips despite their need to down the whole fucking thing. As they do, I can’t help but hold Marcus’ stare. He looks absolutely defeated, and it kills me. Leaning over the cart, I gently press my lips to his. “We’re going to make it,” I murmur, giving the guys a second to catch their breath.

Marcus captures my lips in his, his skin clammy and pale. “Bet that sweet ass we will.”

A smile pulls at my lips, and before I can respond, his head is lolling back again, too exhausted to be able to hold it up. They dump water over their faces, refreshing themselves as they prepare for something not one of us is mentally or physically prepared for. They rinse off their open stab wounds, cleaning out the dirt and grime, and before I get a chance to really think about just how hard this is going to be, I look up at two of the greatest men I’ve ever had the pleasure of falling in love with.