Chapter 5

My horrified cry echoes off the cave walls. A nauseating metallic smell fills my nostrils, making my head spin. I clutch my thigh firmly, trying to stop the pain now radiating through me. The motherfucking guard shot me right in the leg. I stagger forward, holding it tightly as blood soaks through my waitress uniform.

Another shot rings out, but the pain is so unbearable I can’t process what’s going on around me. All I know is, this time it didn’t hit me. Hobbling forward, my fingers find solid rock, grabbing onto it for support. The last six months flash before me. Relentless training with Ian, lessons at the shooting range, sleepless night after night, thinking I would eventually get my revenge on the men who stole my life.

It’s all for nothing now.

Out of nowhere, he effortlessly scoops me up and pulls me into his firm embrace, his striking blue eyes locking onto mine as he carts me back into the darkness of the cave.

“No,” I utter, shaking my head. I don’t want to go anywhere with this asshole .

Looking down at me, his eyes icy as the sea, meet mine, filled with pity—and something else entirely. “You need to learn to follow instructions, baby doll. If you didn’t run in the first place, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

His angry tone confuses me, but I can’t process what it means. My head swims from the speed he’s moving at and the blur of pain pumping through my veins. “You were supposed to kill me,” I mutter, trying to stay strong, but I’m fading. Fading back into the black abyss I was in after my family’s murders. The only thing that was holding me strong was the notion that I would have my revenge on the men who killed them. And now that illusion’s been shattered. I have no fight left.

He chuckles darkly, as if this is all some twisted game—a fun Saturday night for him. And it probably is. “Why would I kill you?”

Fear combines with the loss of blood, causing nausea to wash over me. Given his capacity for greater harm, I’m sure death would be a blessing. One I’m not going to be granted. I’m sure there is more pain to come. That’s what these assholes do, isn’t it?

“Maddox, take Harley up to the surgery.” Holding me tightly against his chest, he speaks to someone out of my line of sight.

“She’s alive?” the man called Maddox asks in a gruff voice as I’m shoved into his massive ink-covered arms. The scent of cigarette smoke envelops me while I am met with the gaze of hazel eyes scrutinizing me.

I realize he has handed me over to the thug who held the gun when my family was murdered, and my heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. He is the person responsible for their deaths. The dude with the monster tattoo. I didn’t like my chances with blue eyes, but I know the harm this guy is capable of. And now I’m helpless in his arms .

“She’s been shot,” blue eyes informs the other guy cooly, stating the obvious, since I’m covered in blood and quivering in pain. “Make her comfortable while I grab my bag.”

“Sure, Doc.” Did he refer to him as “Doc” that night too? I have a vague memory of something like that from a nightmare I had.

Maddox’s rough embrace is a stark contrast to blue eyes’ gentle touch, and before I know it, I’m dumped onto a cold flat surface, causing pain to throb through my leg as I bounce. “You’re alive,” he repeats like he can’t quite make sense of it.

A pained gasp tumbles from my lips as I suck in air, trying not to let the throbbing take over all my thoughts. I need to keep my wits about me. Through blurry eyes, I see the other guy better. He’s an imposing figure taking up more space than any man should. His eyes are mean as they bore right through me, making fear race through my already tense body. Tattooed arms bulging out of his oversized shirt reach toward me, and I flinch away—until I realize, he was reaching for a pillow.

He places the thin padding under my head, gently moving my hair so I can make myself more comfortable. “You’re right to fear me. No person in their right mind gatecrashes one of our joints and gets away with it.” He assesses the spot where blood is leaking from me. “You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

The murky room spins, a fog taking over me. A helpless desperation claws at me. I need to get out of here. This is bad. Really fucking bad. This room is probably their torture chamber. Is that what blue eyes meant by his bag? But agony takes over, and I can’t move to save myself, no matter how badly I want to.

“What the hell, Doc. Why did you bring her back here?”

“Do you know who she is?” I feel him, Doc , brush the hair off my forehead. “Sweet little Harley Havardi.”

His eyes meet mine as he examines me from head to toe .

“I can’t believe we found her alive.” Maddox’s murderous expression morphs into a grin of satisfaction I don’t like. Why is he so pleased to see me?

“She found us,” blue eyes corrects him, matching his grin.

Their joy makes my stomach twist. My body trembles, feeling overwhelmingly cold, but I know I’m not because at the same time, beads of sweat drip from my forehead. I close my eyes, trying to block them out. How do they know who I am? And what do they mean by they found me? Are they the ones plastering flyers of me all over town?

One of them brushes my hair again softly, almost sweetly moving it off my sweaty forehead. He moves my body so I’m on my side. “This will only sting for a second, baby doll,” he says quietly. “Hold her legs so she can’t move,” he tells the guy he called Maddox, more directly.

Then I feel a motherfucking jab straight to my thigh. “Ahh,” I whimper.

“Sorry, sweetheart, we need to get this bullet out and get you stitched up before you bleed to death.”

My eyes fly open to find him packing away a needle. What the hell? “This isn’t some torture chamber?” I whisper, too weak to get much else out. They’re going to help me? I must be dead or hallucinating. That’s the only explanation for what’s going on here.

“Anesthetic.” He studies me with a hint of apprehension, and I’m not sure if it’s because of my current condition or because I’m accusing him of having a torture chamber back here. “Harley, maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Ricky, and this is my brother Maddox. We will perform a minor surgery to remove the bullet you seem to have lodged in your thigh,” he explains cooly like this shit happens every day. “If you can try to stay nice and still for me, like a good girl, this will be over in no time.” His smile is gentle, but I stare back at him, too scared to do anything else.

Adjusting me so I’m lying on my front, he takes a pair of scissors and carefully cuts round the leg of my stockings, removing the blood-soaked fabric and discarding it in the trash. He clicks his fingers. “Maddox, get me the swabs.” Still watching me, he brings them over and cleans the wound with warm water.

I wince, trying to stay still like he asked me to, but the sting is almost too much, even with the anesthetic.

“Now I need to remove the bullet. If you can just stay still for me, baby doll. This is important if you don’t want muscle damage. You’re so fast, and I wouldn’t want to take that from you.” He smirks, all charming, making sure he has my attention, but his pretty-boy face is all blurry.

I blink back at him, trying to make my eyes focus. I’ve been shot and forced into some other dimension. One where this guy, Ricky, is a doctor saving me? What the hell is going on? One of his guards shot me, and now he’s fixing me up? Maybe I’m dead and this is some fucked-up delusion. An uneasy sickness washes over me, making me feel like I’m melting into the gurney below. His face blurs completely as the room spins. “Ricky,” I whisper in panic.

He returns to my side, the back of his hand lightly touching my cheek as his face fades out.

“Shit, Maddox, I need help. Get Alex and bring me towels, clean ones, and something to elevate her leg. I think we’re losing her,” his voice goes foggy and sounds far away. “She’s not dying on me now. Not when we finally found her,” is the last thing I hear before it all goes black.