Chapter 36

The fucker from the hospital, the one who dragged me out of my apartment just hours before, is kneeling in front of me with his fist pulled back.

It swings forward, connecting with my jaw in a loud crack, and my head whips backward.

The binds on my wrists are too damn reinforced, several sets of ropes circling each one, so I can't do anything but sit here and let him punch me.

Shaking my head to clear my vision, I spit a bit of blood on the floor as the guy leans back and smirks at me.

"Oh, fuck. Where are my manners? I never said who I was." He's still a two-bit thug, but I can tell this guy is higher up in the Cobras. "Name's Marco. Good to see you again, Mr. Shaw. And your bitch."

I fight against the ropes again, yanking myself forward in a vain attempt to level this fuckhead.

"Watch what you say about her."

Marco tosses his head back in an exaggerated laugh and then swings again, this time landing a punch to my stomach.

The air is knocked out of me, and I tense against the sudden jolt of nausea that powers through my gut.

"Ha! You are a piece of shit, aren't you?" He punches again, connecting with the other side of my ribs. "I'm going to say whatever the fuck I want. And you? You're going to give up your brothers' locations."

Pain swells through my midsection, the dull ache stronger over the recently healed stab wound.

While the discomfort definitely isn't nothing, I can tell this Marco fucker is holding back. He's leaving a place for these rounds to go, warming me up.

"I'm not telling you anything, Marco." I lower my chin, looking from under my brows at him. "You've dealt with me before. How'd that go? Oh, yeah. Your buddy who stabbed me got himself killed. Whoops."

Knuckles smash into my face, right at the jaw where he punched me before, and I know I'll have a hell of a bruise. I'm goading him, though, and it's working.

If he gets sloppy, I might be able to get Clara and me out of this yet.

If I don't lose consciousness.

Two more blows land on my ribs, smartly aimed away from my head. This fucker wants me conscious, too.

Can't talk if I pass out.

"Luke!"

Clara shouts from across me, but I don't dare look. I can't let this fucker see how much I really care about her.

At this point, he could still buy that she's just a booty call. I need it to stay that way.

"Where are they? Where's that club owner and his bitch?"

Another punch, and I groan around the growing pain. This asshole is good at his aim, I'll give him that.

My ribs ache, and if he keeps landing attacks on the same spot for too long, I know one of them is bound to crack.

Trying to sit up straight again, my stomach muscles are all bunched up from the pain, and my words come out through gritted teeth.

"What do you care? Ethan is long gone. You're not being bankrolled by that asshole anymore. Move the fuck on, bro."

I'm aware that Ethan Noble is very much in jail.

Still, I also know the mess with Chloe was just a part of the Crimson Cobras' business portfolio.

"You don't mess around with the Cobras," Marco drawls, almost bored. "You get what's coming to you. You and all your fucking family."

"Better start looking somewhere else for a new hobby, Marco." I say the next words slowly, emphasizing each one. "I'm. Not. Telling. You. Dick."

My ass bones are really starting to kill me sitting on this fucking concrete, and then Marco lands another punch, this one to my shoulder.

It's the ideal uncomfortable spot because of the fact that they're strained right now, my wrist secured behind me and forcing them into an uncomfortable position.

"Stop! Leave him alone!"

Clara's voice rings out, and I risk a glance at her. Marco sighs, standing up and walking over in her direction.

No, no, no. Don't do that, asshole. Stay focused on me.

But I can't stop him, and Marco fists Clara's hair, yanking her head slightly to the side as he lowers down in front of her.

"Don't think I've forgotten about you, bitch."

He drags a finger down her cheek, probing a spot that must be sore for the way Clara flinches.

"I'll be asking you the same questions in just a minute. So maybe if you want to avoid the same pain, you'll come up with a better answer for me."

"She doesn't have family, you fuck."

The yell is enough to get Marco coming back toward me, but it also earns me a backhand across the face.

"Don't fucking lie to me!" The rage I'd assumed was behind this calm facade of Marco's flares to life. "I know she's got a sister with a kid. We're going to find them and kill 'em. Just like yours, asshole."

"No!"

I know she's panicking, but I can't have Clara screaming again. When Marco looks in her direction, my stomach drops.

Do anything. Anything to keep him away from her.

"Oh, yeah, and what big men you must be to go after a woman and her kid. Real tough."

It works, and Marco snaps his attention back to me.

As he does, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye.

The loss of focus doesn't allow me to prepare for the blow coming for my nose, and Marco swings down, shoving my face toward the ground with the effort.

My eyes water as the pain screams at me, and I have to spit another mouthful of blood onto the cement.

I don't immediately pull my head up, letting it hang because fuck, I'm ready to pass out right now.

From there, however, I can see Clara working harder to free herself from the ropes.

She's thin, perspiration making her slender wrists more slippery, and she's already made it a few inches.

I need to distract Marco, keep his focus here.

A rough grip cuts through my internal calculations, and Marco hauls my head up. I still let it hang there, and I feel warm blood seep down my nose and to my mouth.

It's definitely broken. Good thing you know a doctor.

"Where are they, Shaw? I'm getting impatient."

My head swims, making everything sound slow and off.

"Timbuktu, fuckface. No, wait, Zimbabwe. Yeah, that's it. Go fetch, mutt."

With a searing yank, my neck is craned backward as Marco forces me to look at him.

"You know, I've been nice." He slams the heel of his shoe into the bullet graze on my thigh; fire explodes through my veins, and I know the steady blood loss is worse now. "Fucking. Talk. Now."

Another blow to the face, his foot still squeezing down on the slash through my leg.

I'm too close to passing out. This isn't good.

Crack!

The loud snap of wood against something just as hard cuts through the haze surrounding me, and I look up to see Clara standing behind Marco.

She's holding a broken piece of pallet in her grip, and he's stumbling to his knees, his head bleeding.

Clara lets him have it again, and Marco drops like a sack of potatoes.

"Oh God. Okay." She drops the wood, kneeling down by me and holding my face in her hands. "Shit, yeah. Your nose is broken. We need to get out of here. Hold on."

She's out of my eyeline then, and I have to struggle through several breaths to clear my head.

It loosens my tongue, almost like being drunk.

"Damn. That was hot as hell, doc. Fuck, I'm in pain."

There's silence for a hair too long, and my pulse quickens. Where is she?