Page 43 of Mine to Tease

43

My body aches as I lay motionless on the floor. With my back toward Aidan and the men holding us both captive, I face the exterior, window-lined wall of the building. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck and crushed beneath its weight. All of the aches and pains I had before—throbbing head, tender cheek, sore lip—are now joined by a sharp pain radiating between my legs and through my abdomen, a stinging sensation where my rapist cut my skin with his teeth, and finally, the tenderness of my flesh left in the wake of his harsh touch. I wish I could fall asleep so I could escape the pain and the mental anguish which rivals it. But each time I drift into unconsciousness, I quickly wake, knowing that at any moment he may come for me again or begin the other forms of torture he and his men have planned for me. There is no lasting escape. Even thinking of Damon and the life we could’ve had together has become too painful to imagine. Because the longer I spend in this decrepit warehouse, the less I believe I’ll ever step foot outside of it, the less I believe I’ll ever see Damon again, the less I believe I’ll survive this.

I find myself in the drifting stage now—the place between consciousness and unconsciousness. Since he discarded me, I’ve done my best to slow my breathing and not make any noticeable movements or noises. The last thing I want is to draw him back to me. But, as the sound of footsteps grows louder, I can sense him or one of the others coming toward me and I can’t help but to go rigid. Every muscle in my body clenches as I brace myself for what will come next. My eyes widen in horror. My breathing becomes shallow and quick. As the shadow of a man covers my body, my body shakes uncontrollably like it did before. And, like before, the man standing behind me laughs.

“Ready for round two, princess?” I shake my head and pinch my eyes closed. My mind is conflicted with what to do. Do I try to fight him off? Do I try to run? Do I just give in hoping he’ll go easier on me this time? I can’t decide and my body lets me know it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t fight or run, even if I wanted to.

As the man in the gray suit leans down and pulls me toward him so that I lie flat on my back beneath him, a fresh wave of fear and a blood-curdling scream builds in my chest. But before it can escape me, the windows to my left shatter into a million pieces, drawing his and everyone else’s attention.

I turn my back to the rainfall of glass and squeeze my eyes closed. Before I can even open them, I feel and hear the chaos surrounding me. I hear the men in the room yelling and running, but the sounds of them are quickly drowned out by that of several explosions. One after the other, the building shakes in response. They seem to come from every direction and are quickly accompanied by the much-closer sounds of gunfire. I jump in response and open my eyes. As adrenaline fills my veins, enough to chase away my paralyzing fear, I crawl toward the edge of the room to make sure I’m out of the line of fire. Glass cuts into my palms, knees, and shins, but I’m too focused to care.

Once I’m pressed up against the wall, I take in the scene before me to find seven figures dressed in what looks like black hazmat suits go after my captors. Bullets fly through the air as they take out the men in the room. I place my hands over my ears in response.

Everything happens so fast. The men here to save me and my brother take as many bullets as they fire. But their unusual suits protect them. The sight is extraordinary and yet nerve-racking all at once. Within seconds, bodies covered in blood lie motionless on the floor. Most are dead from gunshot wounds, but as more men flood in from the ends of the warehouse, the combat becomes closer and my saviors are forced to resort to using knives and their fists in addition to their guns.

I know one of these men is Damon and that thought fills me with hope and yet also anxiety. He and his men are heavily outnumbered, and through the open window casings, I can see flames rising outside. Black smoke billows in from below, and red and blue lights flash in the distance. Whatever they’re doing, they’re running out of time.

I move my hands to my nose to keep from inhaling the smoke. Sweat beads on my skin as the temperature in the room rises. I look to my right and find an exit separate from the main point of entry. But I don’t know who is on the other side of that door and I can’t leave without Damon.

As the smoke continues to fill the room, sudden movement from outside draws my attention. It’s there that I see a helicopter gliding through the rising flames and barrels of smoke. Sparks burst through the darkness as it fires bullets of its own toward the perimeter of the building. But, as my eyes widen in surprise, they also burn. This isn’t good.

As the smoke and heat from the flames begins to overtake me, I’m forced to lie down. Being this close to the ground gives me a moment of reprieve long enough to see the men in black begin to remove the restraints from my brother’s wrists and ankles. “Aidan,” I whisper, not to draw his attention, rather in acknowledgment. He’ll make it out. He’ll be okay.

As my eyes threaten to close, I find the man in the navy suit lying in a pool of his own blood in the center of the room. His eyes are still open. They display a look of horror similar to the one he and his men cast upon me. But the man who hurt me the most, he still breathes. Though only for a second. A man in black, a man I know to be Damon based on the tattoos on his hand, holds the man in gray up by his throat. He chokes him, like he threatened to choke me. He then throws him on the ground and stands over him just as he stood over me. The man in gray wears a look of defeat, knowing he’s met his end. I only wish he could have suffered more—the way he made me suffer, the way I will continue to suffer until I can find a way to rid myself of the marks of his touch and the memories of this horrific night. It’s then that Damon pulls a long, slender knife from one of his suit’s hidden pockets and slices through my rapist’s neck. The movement is so swift and strong it severs the man’s head from his body.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I’m not sure if it’s the smoke, the heat, my waning adrenaline, or simply knowing the man who hurt me is dead, but my eyes become too heavy to remain open. In the darkness, I finally find a reprieve from the pain. In the darkness, I find peace.

44

Before we left the Compound, Gio showed me additional photos of Anastasia, ones that included the man responsible for the marks on her body. I should know his name, but, for the life of me, I can’t remember. All I could focus on was getting her away from him as soon as possible, and now, all I can focus on is his dead body lying on the floor beneath me. I stand frozen, locking eyes with his corpse as his blood drips off the blade still held tightly in my hand. Everyone around me fades to a blur and the sounds of war become nothing but a whisper as I imagine all the ways I would’ve loved to torture him. Fuck a death by a thousand cuts. Even if I could’ve killed him a thousand times over it still wouldn’t have been enough—for me nor for Anastasia. Perhaps, deep down, that very reason is why I never went after my father. I imagined killing him over and over again, but I knew it would never make things right. More importantly, it would never bring my mom back, and it only would’ve hurt me to do it. But this, this doesn’t hurt me. Nor do the bullets popping into my suit. They’ll leave bruises and red welts despite the material, but they don’t hurt me. The only thing that hurts me is knowing what this animal did to the woman I love and knowing that a bullet or a blade can’t fix it. I can’t fix it.

“Damon!” As Gio’s voice rings through my headset, I come to and realize I’ve been zoned out for far longer than I thought. “Damon, we have to go. Now!”

“Gentlemen, Package #2 is secure and on the move. Cops are two minutes out from the west side of the building,” Xander says then. “Damon, Zane, Gio, and Milo, your driver is waiting in an SUV on the east side, which gives you three minutes to get the Hell out of here.”

I lift my head to take in the room. It’s full of black smoke, so much so I can’t see beyond four feet in front of me. Our suits protect us from it and it’ll serve as cover from any remaining hostiles as we make our escape. But it occurs to me then that Anastasia doesn’t have a suit. I clocked her location the moment we crashed through the glass and kept an eye on her throughout. I turn and sprint in the direction of the last place I saw her. As I move, Gio is slightly ahead while Zane and Milo flank me.

As Anastasia comes into view, Gio moves past her to open the door we’ll take to the ground level. Xander and Killian were aware of our exit plan and did their best to keep our escape route clear. But in case we run into any fire trouble, the planes are equipped with water tanks as well. Zane and Milo turn and, guns ready to fire, watch my back as I scoop Anastasia up into my arms. Up close, her wounds look even more heartbreaking than in the pictures, but as she lies limp in my arms, I’m more concerned with if she’s still breathing.

Knowing that every second we spend in this building the worse the damage to her lungs is, I push the thought of losing her from my mind and focus on getting her out and to the SUV that’s waiting for us. “Moving,” I say. Gio holds the door for me as I carry Anastasia. But once I get her through, he moves in front of us with his rifle drawn in case we run into trouble. Zane and Milo follow behind us as we descend the three flights of stairs.

“Come on, baby. Just hold on a little longer,” I say as I pull Ana even tighter against me to help conceal her naked body.

The closer we get to the ground level, the hotter and smokier things become. But, just as they become unbearable, Gio finds the door to the outside. He kicks it open and exits the building in a crouched position to make sure the coast is clear. Zane, Milo, and I quickly follow behind, and I spot the blacked-out, unmarked SUV waiting for us about fifty yards in the distance. It had to be far enough away not to get caught up in the flames surrounding us now. But, as the sounds of sirens grow closer, I fear it’s too far and we’re out of time.

“Xander, Killian, get out of here. You know what to do with the planes and where to meet up after,” I say then.

“Copy,” Killian says. Though Xander does not reply. He doesn’t want to leave until he’s sure his brother is safe.

“Xander, if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, I’m going to drink all your bourbon when I make it back. You’ve done your job. I’m doing mine,” Zane says, scolding his brother.

“Copy,” he replies, though the displeasure in his voice is evident. Xander flies out over us as we continue running toward the SUV. Thankfully, his departure draws the attention of our driver, prompting her to reverse, closing the distance between us.

“Finally!” I say. Gio hops into the passenger seat. I move into the back seat with Anastasia spread across my lap. My arms work as her seat belt. Zane and Milo hop in through the open trunk. With them inside, our driver closes it. And, with their guns still at the ready, the three of them watch our front and back as our driver speeds away into the night in the nick of time.

As we move farther away from the building, the black smoke and flames conceal us from the cops now flooding the scene. For the first time since Anastasia was taken, I feel as if I can breathe. Though the thought reminds me I’m not sure if she can. Quickly, I take the headpiece of my bulletproof suit off and lean down so I can listen closely to Ana. Her breaths are faint, but they’re there.

“Open the windows. Let’s get some fresh air in here,” I say. Our driver does as I ask, meeting my gaze through the rearview mirror.

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