Chapter 38

T he darkness in the cell is suffocating, pressing in on me from all sides. It's the kind of black that eats up everything around it, leaving nothing but the sound of my own breathing and the cold metal of the chains biting into my wrists.

I can't move much, just enough to shift against the wall, my arms aching from being in the same position for too long. And I'm naked, which would be embarrassing if I had any pride left. But that's long gone, beaten out of me along with whatever was left of my dignity.

Katarina stands close, her breath warm on my arm as she fumbles with the cuffs around my wrists. I can feel her fingers tremble as she works, her tiny bobby pin scraping against the metal.

We haven't said much, and I've avoided asking her how she ended up here. The bruises and cuts I briefly saw on her body, the trauma she's clearly endured, are enough to tell me all I need to know. Every time I think about what she's been through, what she must have suffered at the hands of my father and his men, my stomach twists with guilt and rage.

I should have been able to save her before things got this bad. I should have been able to keep her from his grasp.

I failed.

Again.

"Do you have any idea how to get out of here?" I ask, keeping my voice low, barely a whisper. It feels pointless to speak, but the silence is too much. If she knows a way out, we likely won't ever find it.

"There's a tunnel," she whispers back, her voice so soft I have to strain to hear her. "I think it leads outside, but I don't know where."

"Doesn't matter where it leads as long as it's away from here," I say, trying to keep my tone light, but the words come out flat.

We both know the chances of making it out are slim. Still, if I can give her any amount of hope at survival, I will.

Katarina's fingers pause for a moment before resuming their work on the cuffs. I feel a faint tug on the chain, and I wonder if she's making any progress. The thought of getting out of here, of having even the smallest chance of escape, is almost too much to hope for. But I can't afford to think like that. I have to believe we can do this, for both our sakes.

"Your son," I murmur, shifting slightly so I can see her better, even though the darkness makes it impossible to really see anything. "You said he's in Texas?"

She nods, her fingers never stopping. "With my parents. I sent him there just before…" Her voice trails off, but I can hear the pain in her words, the way they catch in her throat. Just before she was taken. "He's safe there. At least, I hope he is."

"He is," I say, trying to offer some reassurance, even though I have no way of knowing for sure. "He's with your parents. They'll keep him safe."

Anywhere is better than here.

"Yeah," she breathes, but I can tell she's not convinced. "He's a good boy, you know. Smart. Brave. He'll be okay."

I remember that from the night Maddox, Nyx, and Stone found Katarina and her boy. They'd been sent on a job by Augustus to collect on a tithe from an elderly woman, Dolores. Her bakery had been suffering ever since her husband passed. Gus knew there was no way she'd have the money and sent simple and strict instructions to take her out if she broke the rules.

The guys would have never laid a hand on her, no matter the cost. They went with the intention of saving her. Taking her to one of our many safe houses like we'd done so many times before. It was our small way of giving back. Of righting the wrongs we'd created in this life.

Except, when the guys arrived, Dolores was already dead. It was a bloodbath. In a bathroom, they found Katarina, trapped and terrified. Under an island, they found her son. He'd been silent, so damn brave. The guys took them to the safe house with orders to send them out of state.

It wasn't until months later when we'd been called to a meeting at Gus' compound that we discovered what actually happened. At some point, Katarina was taken. Kidnapped and held hostage by our sycophant father. He held Maddox at gunpoint and made me choose. My brother or Kat. Maddox chose for me, but Gus wasn't having it, and Katarina ultimately paid the price for my slow decision making.

He raped her. Forced us to watch. I vowed that day that I would get her out. Even if it cost me my life, I would save her.

I may not have been able to rescue her then, but I will now. No matter what it takes.

A heavy silence falls between us, the kind that feels like it could stretch on forever. I can hear her breathing, the quiet, shaky sound of it, and it makes my chest tighten. I want to say something, to fill the void with words, but I don't know what to say.

What can you say to someone who's been through what she has? Who's still going through it?

"I'm sorry," I choke out, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them.

Her hands freeze, and for a moment, I think she's going to pull away, but she doesn't. Instead, she stays there, so close I can feel the heat of her body against mine. It's not comforting in the way Ella is. Not by a long shot. But it is in the way only two people can feel comfort in a time like this. In the knowledge that you aren't completely alone in the void.

"For what?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"For not being able to save you from him," I say, my throat tightening with the effort of keeping my voice steady. "For not getting you out sooner. For everything."

There's a long pause, and I hear her sniffle, a small sound that cuts through the darkness like a knife. I want to reach out to her, to hold her, but I can't move more than a few inches.

"It's not your fault," she finally says, her voice trembling. "You couldn't have known. You couldn't have stopped him."

"But I should have," I say, the guilt clawing at me. "I should have done something."

Her fingers start working on the cuffs again, but her movements are slower now, more deliberate. "You did what you had to do to survive," she whispers. "We both did."

I hear the strength in her voice, the resolve that hasn't been broken despite everything she's been through. It makes me smile. She's strong, stronger than I could have imagined, and it gives me hope.

"You're going to get out of here," I say, trying to sound confident, even though I'm not sure I believe it. "You're going to see your son again."

"And you?" she asks, her voice soft. "What about you?"

"I'll be right behind you," I promise, even though I know it's a lie. If it comes down to it, I'll make sure she gets out, even if it means I don't. But I don't say that. She doesn't need to know.

"What's waiting for you outside these bars?" she murmurs as I feel a cuff shift, loosen.

I swallow hard and close my eyes. My mind fills with visions of her, my woman, my Cari?o, my future, and I simply say, "My whole world."

Her fingers stop, and for a moment, I think she's going to say something, but she doesn't. Instead, she just keeps working on the cuffs, her movements more focused now, like she's channeling all her energy into this one task.

As she works, my mind drifts back to Ella. I wonder where she is, if she's safe. I wonder if Hunter is with her, or if he's stuck in this hellhole with me.

The thought of my precious girl being out there, searching for us, makes my heart ache. I miss her so much it hurts. I never thought I'd find love. Never thought I'd settle down or dream of forever. But when I look at her, it's all I see. Family, safety, maybe a few babies who look just like her. Freckled faces and dimpled smiles.

And surprisingly, next to her, next to our kids, I see them…my brothers.

Even Hunter.

We're a bunch of misfits—unwanted and unloved.

We pulled a Rihanna and found love in a hopeless place, and I'm not letting it go. The six of us are a family. Fuck, maybe we'll even get some dogs or a place in the country with a lake. Ella always wanted space to breathe. And ducks. She should get some damn ducks after all this.

She deserves everything, even if the idea of bugs makes me want to peel my skin off.

I smile as an image of my brother chasing a herd of ducks with our kids pops into my exhausted brain, and once it's taken root, I can't shake it. Nyx would be a helicopter dad to our little family, picking babies up by their shirts so they don't get hurt. Stone would be silent, watchful, protective from the sidelines, yet he'd still somehow be their favorite. Ella would be buried under a pile of puppies and babies while Hunter hovered over the scene with a camera and a smile.

And me…

I'd be in a constant state of shocked awe, because how the fuck did I get this goddamned lucky?

"Are you okay?" Kat murmurs, pulling me from my thoughts. I clear my throat.

"Have you heard anything?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. "About the others?"

Are my brothers okay?

"No," she whispers, shaking her head. "I haven't heard anything."

My heart sinks, but I don't let it show. If she hasn't heard anything, that could be good news. It could mean they're still alive, still fighting.

The bobby pin scrapes against the metal, and I feel a small shift in the cuff. Katarina gasps softly, and I realize she's almost got it. My heart starts to race, hope surging through me.

"Almost there," she murmurs, her voice tense with concentration.

I hold my breath, waiting, praying that she can do this. The seconds stretch on, each one feeling like an eternity. Then, with a soft click, the cuff around my wrist falls open, and I'm halfway free.

"Oh my fucking balls," she whisper-hisses. "Holy shit. I did it!"

I grin, excitement and hope thrumming through me. "You did so fucking good, Kat."

She sucks in a breath, and I feel like utter shit. We don't know eachother like that. We're tied by shitty circumstances, but I have no doubt that when she looks at me, all she sees is another man who failed her.

Before I can apologize for using a nickname I don't deserve to use, she's bouncing around to my other side and starting on the second cuff.

This one goes much quicker and in minutes, the cuff is clicking free.

I don't move, not at first. The shock of it, the realization that I'm no longer chained to the wall, takes a moment to sink in. When it does, I reach out, my hand brushing against Katarina's. She flinches, but she doesn't pull away.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice rough with emotion. I pull back immediately, feeling way too exposed, too vulnerable. I'm naked, for fuck's sake. But, goddamn, I am thankful. "I owe you my life."

"How about you just repay me by saving mine?" She chuckles, but there's a weight to her words and I know she means them.

"I will," I vow. "This time, I will."

I hear her small intake of breath as I make a bee-line for the corner where I saw my abandoned clothes. Fucking finally. I messily stumble through getting my pants on, skipping my boxers when I can't find them in the dark. I don't even bother with a shirt, but shove my feet into shoes, knowing I'll need the protection.

As I dress, my mind keeps drifting back to Ella. I can't help it. She's always there, in the back of my mind, no matter what I'm doing. I wonder if she's okay, if she's safe. I wonder if she's still out there, searching for us, or if she's given up hope.

No. I shake my head, pushing the thought away. Ella would never give up on us. She's too stubborn, too strong. She's out there, I know it, and she's fighting to get us back. I just have to hold on, to keep fighting for her.

"Gage," Katarina's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I realize I've stopped. She's looking at me, her eyes wide with fear. "I hear something."

I freeze, straining to listen. At first, I don't hear anything, just the pounding of my heart. But then, faintly, I hear it too. Footsteps in the distance.

"Duck under the sink," I murmur, my voice barely more than a breath. "Cover your head. Now."

She hesitates for a split second, then moves, scuttling to the small sink in the corner of the cell. I can hear her breath hitch as she tucks herself beneath it, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. She's hidden, but not well, and if anyone comes in, she'll be exposed.

I shield my eyes with one arm and, with the other, punch the exposed light bulbs in the ceiling. Glass shatters around me, raining down in a cascade of jagged edges.

In the pitch black, I fumble around, my hands sweeping across the rough floor until they find what I'm looking for—a chunk of glass. It's sharp and perfect for what I need. My heart hammers in my chest as I grip it tightly, the edges cutting into my palm, grounding me in the here and now.

"What was that?" someone yells, their voice echoing in the distance.

My heart races and my body tenses. I turn toward the cell door, letting my eyes adjust to the change in light. It's still dark, but outside my cell, somewhere, a faint light shines. I can't tell if it's natural sunlight or not. I'm pretty sure there are no working lights in the halls. Only just the bulbs in my cell that my tormentors would flick on every time they came in for my daily beat down.

Not anymore, fuckers.

"Katarina," I whisper harshly, my voice urgent. "As soon as you can, run. Hide in another cell. Get past me, down the corridor and hide as far away as you fucking can. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," she chokes out. A breath passes, then another. "Thank you, Gage."

Before I can respond, the footsteps stop outside the cell door, and my heart freezes.

The door creaks open slowly, the metal groaning in protest. I hear one of them reach for the light switch, the faint click as he flicks it on, but nothing happens. It's pitch black, and I can sense their confusion, the way they pause, the way their voices rise in frustration as they argue in Spanish.

My fist tightens around the glass and fuck, I can't help it.

I smile.

The door swings fully open with a loud clang, and that's when I move. I charge them, silent and deadly, the glass chunk in my hand raised high. They don't have time to react before I'm on them stabbing, stabbing , stabbing . The sharp edge plunges into flesh over and over again as I release every ounce of anger, every breath of rage.

"Now!" I shout, tossing one to the side as he goes limp. "Go!"

I hear one of them grunt in pain, a curse slipping out in Spanish. The wind rushes past me, and I know it's Katarina, running for her life. Good. She's out. She has a chance.

But I don't stop.

I can't stop.

I keep stabbing, keep fighting, the glass slick with blood in my hand. One of the guards shouts for backup, his voice panicked, but I don't let up. I'm not going down without a fight. I slash and stab and enact my revenge until all I see in the darkness is her.

It's not them I'm fighting. It's Gus. The man who dared to touch her world, taint her happiness. The fucker set his eyes on the wrong goddamned person, and I'll be fucked if he ever gets his hands on her.

I don't even know if anyone is still alive when, suddenly, something hits me hard—a fist, a baton, I don't know.

The world spins.

Pain explodes in my head, bright and blinding, and my knees buckle. I go down, the darkness swallowing me whole as the fight slips away. The last thing I hear is the guard's ragged breathing, the clatter of the glass falling from my hand, and the warm, blood-soaked floor rushing up to meet me.

The next thing I know, I'm waking up on the cold, hard ground, my body screaming in protest as I push myself up. My hands are cuffed behind my back, the metal digging into my wrists, and as I blink away the fog clouding my vision, I'm met with the barrel of a gun aimed squarely at my head. My heart races, panic tightening in my chest as I take in my surroundings.

God-fucking-dammit.

How did I escape one set of cuffs only to land in another?

I blink past bright lights, ignoring my throbbing head when it spins. The second I'm oriented, I scan my surroundings, going on the defense.

Nyx is to my left, barely able to stand, his face a mask of pain and exhaustion. He looks like he's one step away from collapsing, and my heart lurches at the sight. Maddox, my baby brother, is on my right, looking half-dead. My breath catches in my throat, a wave of nausea rolling through me as I try to steady myself. Every part of my body hurts, a deep, bone-deep ache that makes it hard to focus, hard to think.

The sun shines through barred windows, casting harsh lines of light across what was likely the prison cafeteria. The room is large and desolate, filled with an air of hopelessness. The walls are stained and cracked, remnants of old meals and hatred clinging to the corners.

There have to be at least twenty guards in here. Men who started as lowly gang members, but worked their way up to my sick father's elite circle. They all wear the same expression filled with hatred and cockiness. I grimace, knowing it'll be the latter that gets them killed.

But as I continue to scan my surroundings, none of that matters. All I can think about is the absence of one person.

Stone.

I can't see him. I can't find him. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears as I struggle to make sense of what's happening. I want to call out for my brother, to scream his name and demand answers, but the words stick in my throat, choking me with fear.

What's going on?

Where the hell is Gus?

The questions swirl in my mind, each one more terrifying than the last. I meet Nyx's eyes, desperate for reassurance, something to ground me. But Nyx just jerks his chin toward the middle of the room.

I follow his gaze, my breath hitching as I spot a large box-like shape covered in a ratty white sheet. The sight of it sends a chill down my spine, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach.

"What—" I start, my voice barely above a whisper, but the sound of heavy metal slamming has my mouth snapping shut.

The noise reverberates through the room, freezing everyone in place. My entire body goes tense, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice the thug holding me at gunpoint stiffen, his posture going rigid.

I don't need to look to know what's coming. Or rather, who's coming.

Augustus Luna. The leader of the Los Diablos Syndicate. The mastermind behind every horrific event that's twisted my life into a nightmare. The man who haunts my every waking moment.

My enemy.

My father.

"Hello, boys," Gus says, his voice confident despite obvious exhaustion. He walks with his usual arrogance and a smirk, but I notice his limp, weakness, and dark circles under his eyes. He looks sick, paler than ever, yet still just as dangerous.

He stops in the middle of the room, his gaze shifting from the box to us. My heart pounds harder, fear for Stone overwhelming me.

Where is he? Why isn't he here? Is he okay? The questions come fast, each more desperate than the last.

Stone has to be okay. He has to be.

"I realized that torturing you individually is not the way to get answers after my trip to your cage, hijo," Gus says, pointing a meaty finger at me. The sneer on his face deepens, his eyes narrowing with contempt. "I should have known. Your weakness has always been each other."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, the truth of them searing into my mind. Gus knows. He's always known. And now, he's going to use that knowledge against us in the worst possible way.

My breath catches in my throat, my gaze darting back to the sheet-covered box in the middle of the room. Dread claws at my insides, tearing through me with a force that leaves me trembling.

I want to scream, to demand that Gus tell me where Stone is, what he's done to him. But the fear, the choking, all-consuming fear, keeps me silent.

My eyes slide from the box to my brothers. They both share similar, horrified expressions.

Is it Stone? Hunter? I swallow hard.

Ella?

My gaze snaps back to the box as nausea swirls through me. No. Fuck. No.

Nyx shifts beside me, the movement drawing my attention. I meet his gaze, see the same terror reflected in his eyes, and it only makes the panic inside me swell. The thought, the possibility, just hit him too.

Gus takes a step closer to the box, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "You see, boys," he continues, his voice dripping with venom, "the key to breaking you was never in how much pain I could inflict on you as individuals. No, the key was always here." He taps his temple with one finger, his smirk widening. "In your heads. In your hearts."

My heart races faster, the sound of it thundering in my ears. I want to look away, to shut my eyes and block out the horror of what's to come, but I can't. I'm frozen, trapped in the nightmare that Gus has created for us.

He reaches out, his hand hovering over the sheet, and my breath catches in my throat. The anticipation, the dread, is suffocating. Every muscle in my body tenses, ready to snap, to fight, to do something—anything—to stop what's about to happen.

"Are you ready for the big reveal, hijo?" he asks, his voice soft, almost tender, like a father speaking to his child. The mockery in it cuts me to the bone.

Before I can respond, before I can even think, Gus rips the sheet away with a flourish, revealing what's underneath. The sight of it makes my blood run cold, my heart stuttering in my chest.

"No," I whisper, the word slipping out in a broken gasp. The world tilts, everything spinning out of control as I stare at the figure curled up inside the small, metal box.

No—not a metal box.

Cage.

He's in a dog cage.

The world slows to a crawl, every sound around me fading into the background as my eyes lock onto the cage in the center of the room. My heart pounds violently against my ribs, the blood draining from my face as the figure inside is revealed.

Stone.

My brother. He's battered, bruised, and covered in blood, his body crumpled in on itself, barely recognizable. For a moment, I can't move. I can't even breathe. All I can do is stare at the horrifying image before me, my mind struggling to process what I'm seeing. Stone, the strongest person I know, reduced to this. It feels impossible, like some twisted nightmare I can't wake up from.

My vision blurs with tears, my entire body shaking as the full weight of what's happening crashes down on me.

Then the silence shatters.

I try to get to him, to reach my brother, but the chains around my wrists jerk me back as the barrel of the gun digs into my skull. I'm powerless, helpless to do anything but watch, as the man who's destroyed everything good in my life smiles down at my broken family.

To my left, Nyx erupts, his voice a feral roar that shakes the very walls of the prison. He's on his feet in an instant, the chains around his wrists straining as he lunges forward. The guard holding him at gunpoint stumbles back, looking terrified. Good. He fucking should.

"You sick bastard!" he bellows, his voice raw with fury. "I'll fucking kill you! I'll tear you apart, you hear me? I'll rip you to shreds for this!"

On my other side, Maddox is a mess of desperation. He's on his hands and knees, crawling toward the cage, the sound of his palms and feet scraping across the gravel floor echoing in the now chaotic room. His cries for Stone are guttural, ripped from the depths of his soul as he inches closer, his hand outstretched as if he can reach our brother through sheer force of will.

"Stone!" Maddox cries, his voice cracking in a way I've never heard before. "Stone. Brother, please! Please, look at me!"

The sound of Maddox's broken sobs, the sheer despair in his voice, is enough to shatter my heart into a million pieces. I want to move, to rush to Stone's side, to do something—anything—to help my brothers.

But I can't. I fucking can't, and it's maddening.

All I can do is watch. Watch as Stone remains motionless, curled into himself like a dying animal. Watch as the seconds tick by with agonizing slowness, each one a knife twisting in my chest. I stare at Stone's prone figure, my eyes wide, unblinking, desperate for any sign of life. Any twitch, any movement, anything to show that my brother is still alive.

I wait. And wait. And wait.

It feels like an eternity passes before I finally see it—a small twitch, a slight shift in Stone's fingers when Nyx turns his rage toward the man with the gun.

It's barely anything, a movement so small it could be imagined, but it's enough. Enough to send a wave of relief crashing over me, leaving me breathless and trembling.

Stone is alive. Barely, but he's alive.

I tear my eyes away from him, my gaze snapping to Gus, who stands in the center of the room, watching the display with a sickening smile plastered across his face.

Around us, Gus' men are cackling, their laughter a cruel, mocking sound that grates against my ears. They're laughing at the sight of three broken men on their knees, crying for their fallen brother. They're laughing at our pain, our fear, our helplessness.

But inside, I'm fucking burning .

A rage so deep, so pure, ignites within me, spreading through my veins like wildfire. It's a cold, calculated fury, one that sharpens my focus and hardens my resolve. I can feel it coiling in my chest, a force that drives out the fear and replaces it with something darker, more dangerous.

Gus' smirk widens as he meets my gaze, clearly reveling in the chaos he's created. The sight of it, the sheer arrogance on his face, only fuels the fire inside me, stoking it until it's an inferno.

"You should have given her up, son," he says coolly with a shrug. "All of this could have been avoided if you and your little bitch boys would have given up your whore. Simple as that. Her location for your lives."

"I will kill you," I vow, my voice so cold, so clear, it cuts through the noise like a blade. The words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of the promise they carry. For the first time, Gus's smile falters, his eyes narrowing as he registers the seriousness in my tone.

"Before this is over," I continue, my eyes locked on his cold ones, "I will rip your heart from your body while it still beats. Mark my fucking words."

The room goes silent, the laughter dying instantly as the gravity of my threat sinks in. Gus stares at me, his smirk gone, replaced by a look of wary caution. He flinches, just slightly, the only crack in his facade of control, but it's enough for me to know that my words have hit their mark.

And they will be fulfilled.

I don't break eye contact, don't waver as I hold Gus's gaze. The promise has been made, and it will be kept, no matter the cost. This isn't over. Not by a long shot. And when it does end, it will be with Gus's blood on my hands.

My chest heaves with the intensity of my emotions, but I force myself to stay still, to hold on to that rage, to let it drive me. I won't let my father see me break, won't let him see the fear, or the pain, that's tearing me apart inside. All I'll show is the fury that's been unleashed, the promise of retribution that will come.

Gus doesn't say anything, his eyes locked on mine with a mixture of anger and something else—something that looks a lot like fear. The silence stretches on, thick and heavy, until finally, Gus tears his gaze away, his lips curling into a sneer as he turns his attention back to the cage.

But I don't care. My eyes are already back on Stone, on my brother, my best friend, the one who's suffered more than anyone should ever have to. I watch his shallow breaths, the slight rise and fall of his chest, and I vow once more, silently this time, that I'll do whatever it takes to get us out of this.

Even if it means tearing down every wall, spilling every drop of blood in this cursed place. Even if it means becoming the monster my father always said I would be.

Because I won't let this be the end. Not for Stone. Not for Maddox. Not for Nyx. Not for any of us.

And definitely not for Gus.

Not until his heart beats for the last time in my scarred hands.