Maniacs (Depraved Sinners 4)

I swallow hard and nod, not liking it one bit but if we could get a doctor here, someone to help Marcus, then I’m willing to do whatever the hell it takes.

We make our way to the back door and Levi slides his hand on the keypad, quickly hashing in the code before letting the retinal scanner do its thing and stepping back as the industrial sized door opens. It pulls back and we quickly move inside the warehouse, but not before Roman spares another glance up and down the back alley.

We move through to the second door and by the time it’s opening, Mick is there, meeting us on the other side. Confusion settles across his face, not having expected to see us here today, but the second he gets a good look at the three boys with the wolves flanking their sides, his eyes widen in horror.

“FUCK,” he curses, his eyes darting from left to right, trying to assess everyone and their injuries. “What do you need?”

Roman nods back toward the door we just came through. “Lose the car and wipe the cameras,” Roman orders. “I don’t want a fucking trace of this … and get me a fucking doctor who knows what they’re doing.”

Mick nods and gets a move on, his phone already out of his pocket. We move past him as he hashes in the code and brings the phone to his ear. He quickly disappears through the door, surely to lose the car as instructed, but the second the door closes behind him, Mick is already gone from my mind.

We weave through the warehouse. It’s creeping up to eight in the evening and I’m relieved not to find many workers here tonight. The less people who know we’re here, the better. I don’t doubt that Giovanni has realized we’re gone by now, and the fucker would surely be coming after us already. Despite being out of there, our time is still running out.

We need to get ahead of this. We need to get the boys back in good shape and figure out how we’re going to move forward.

The boys cut through stacks of rebranded pills, and I resist the urge to grin at their logo on the front of the small packets. Obviously, Giovanni hasn’t thought to make a trip out here in the past week and has no idea what the boys have done, though that is only going to make this even more entertaining. Oh, to be a fly on the wall when he figures it out.

High piles of cash keep us hidden as we move through the warehouse and come to a stop outside an elevator. Levi presses the call button, and the soft ding that sounds through the warehouse is enough to send anxiety pulsing through my veins.

I quickly glance around, but no one seems to be paying any attention to what we’re doing. Letting out a sigh of relief, we step into the elevator, and I’m surprised to find so many different levels on offer. Most buttons are the standard, plain silver buttons, but at the very bottom, separate from the others, there are three black ones, none of them labeled, and each requiring a retinal scan to select.

My brows furrow as I watch Levi hit the middle black button and lean into the retinal scanner. There’s no ding, no digital screen telling us that the scan was approved, no button lighting up like they do at the mall—just one minute, we’re closed off in a metal box, and the next, the doors are opening into a world of disbelief.

We step out into a clinical hallway with large metal doors on either side and heavy, industrial locks in place. It smells weird, like we must be deep underground. I don’t like it one fucking bit. “Is this some kind of bomb shelter?” I breathe, the place sending chills down my spine.

It looks like the kind of bullshit you get in a scary movie right before the crazy psychopath begins chasing you with a knife. The only difference is, in this particular situation, we’re the messed-up psychopaths.

We walk down the long hall until Roman turns toward a door. “In here,” he says, nodding at it, silently telling Levi to hurry the fuck up and open the damn thing.

Levi cuts in front of me, quickly pulling back on the heavy bolted lock before pushing the thick metal door open. The room leads down a steep stairwell, and as we pass the door, Levi quickly closes it behind us again. We get to the bottom only to find another locked door, this one seeming much heavier and resistant than the one before, but it’s nothing that Levi can’t handle.

The door slides open, and we step through to a clinical bunker that looks more like a surgical room. There are narrow beds at the far end, a small bathroom with a shower, and a wall of weapons, filled with everything anyone in our position could possibly need.

Roman immediately moves toward the surgical table in the center of the room and lays Marcus down, blood instantly spilling over the side and dripping onto the clean, sterile floor. I move in beside him, curling Marcus’ hand into mine, hating that I don’t know how to help him. Letting him know that I’m here is all I can really do for him right now.

He slept for most of the drive, and I’m not going to lie, the way Levi would constantly shake him awake just to check he was still with us didn’t bother me one bit, despite how desperately he needed to rest.

Roman tears the shredded shirt off his clammy body and tosses it to the ground, while Levi begins rifling through the vast array of medical supplies, only judging by the grunts and shallow curses, we may not have exactly what we need.

Levi comes back with a stack of supplies, though I can tell he’s anxious for the actual doctor to arrive. He doesn’t have much energy of his own, and soon enough, all three of them are going to be passed out. “He’s burning up,” Levi mutters, handing me a washcloth. “Wet this and dab it over his face, we need to keep that under control.”

I do as I’m told, hurrying toward the small bathroom and quickly drenching the washcloth before wringing out the excess water and hurrying back to Marcus’ side.

The boys start cleaning him up, but he needs hardcore antibiotics to fight the infection and a surgeon to stitch up the internal wounds. Who knows what kind of hell their father’s dagger wreaked on their organs? With each passing minute, my frustration only gets worse.

Where is that doctor?

It feels like a lifetime ago that Felicity shot Marcus. That night, Levi didn’t hesitate to dive straight through the wound to retrieve the bullet and stitch him up, but this is different. Marcus’ body is too weak to fight it. He needs the right kind of medical help to ensure that he makes it through the other end.

I go back and forth, keeping the washcloth cool on his head before grabbing another and sponging off the dried blood from his skin. I know it won’t help him in any way, but I always feel better when I’m clean.

After what feels like a lifetime, a quick rap sounds at the door and Roman quickly rushes across to open it. Mick appears holding a box, with a woman by his side. My gaze falls to the woman, and I’ve never seen anyone look so wary and terrified. It’s clear Mick hasn’t given her any details as to why she’s here, but when she gets a look at Marcus on the table, understanding flashes in her eyes.

I can only assume this is the doctor.

She doesn’t hesitate, moving across the room and finding a pair of gloves. She quickly chats with Levi, getting as much information as possible as she begins loading Marcus up with something that will hopefully put him out of his misery.

As the doctor tends to Marcus, Roman spouts off a list of things he needs for Mick to organize: food, medication, a car, more weapons, and cell phones. He goes over everything as Mick places the box down at his feet and I can just see the tip of the contents spilling out. There’s no mistaking the vast array of medical supplies in there, extra bandages, gauze, tape, syringes … and thank fuck, a shit load of what I hope to be the strongest kind of medication anyone could ever need.