Page 146 of Ruthless Reign

My chest felt tight and every breath I forced into it ached. Seeming to do nothing to get oxygen to my brain as dark spots bloomed in like dark flowerbuds at the edges of my vision.

He wasn’t going to stop, I realized. He wouldn’t stop until he killed every last one of us.

As if Séamas was the devil himself and capable of hearing my thoughts, he did not call for the next Saint to die. There was a pause that made my stomach turn to a pit of acid and then he said… “I think I’ll take one of your boys, now, Damien, if it’s all the same to you.”

Sloane shouted angrily through her gag, and I reached out instinctively, gripping each of Damien’s sons by the arm.

“You can’t,” I said, my voice watery and weak and hateful. I hated how it sounded, but I couldn’t seem to make it stronger. Make me stronger.

I wasn’t going to let go. They’d have to drag me with them if they went.

“Just take me, you Irish prick,” Damien bellowed. “Just. Take. Me.”

“You’ll wait your turn like everybody else. Come on, little Saints, it’s you or yer Ma, here. What’ll it be?”

Hardin pulled against my hold on him, but I dug my fingernails into his skin.

No.

I was not letting go.

“Hawk,” he said in a low whisper, his face a mask of unyielding stone. “Let go.”

I wouldn’t.

He put his hand over mine, softly at first, and then he was peeling my fingers back like I wasn’t using every ounce of my grip strength to hold onto him.

While I was so busy trying to keep Hardin close, Kaleb was able to sharply pull his arm from mine.

“Sorry, Vixen!”

“No!”

“There’s yer spawn, Damien. Come on down, lad. I’ll finish what my son started with that well placed bullet, shall I?”

“Kaleb,” Hardin snapped, shaking his head at his brother.

But I could see Kaleb’s mind was set. In his nonchalant shrug I read the words he didn’t say.

We were all going to die, anyway. Might as well go first.

“A little faster if you please, lad, we don’t have all?—”

Séamas’ words cut off mid-sentence and I gripped the edge of the desk, intently trying to see what shut him up.

“What’s that?” he hissed at a Son to his right. “Do you hear that?”

Hear…

I listened, realizing I could hear something. Yes.

Outside. Getting closer.

Engines. Loud and whining. Tires screeching.

Obviously not his men.

Which could only mean they were ours.

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