In Arno’s last-ditch effort to stall this conversation further, he blurts out, “What’s say you and I continue getting to know each other in a more private location? How’s that sound, sweetheart?” Cara pushes me towards her men, two large arms wrap around my shoulders holding me immobile. Sauntering up to Arno, he flicks his gaze from me to her as she slowly approaches him, her hands resting on his chest.
“I hate to break it to ye, big boy, but I’m spoken for,” Cara’s seductive voice whispers loud enough for the rest of us to hear. Reaching up to her face, Arno brushes a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. The way Cara’s back relaxes at his touch shows me his technique is working.
“That she is spoken for.” A deep voice makes me jump as someone emerges from the shadows behind me. “Long time no see, Arno.” I can’t see who’s talking. The guard’s hold on me is so restricting, it’s almost hard to breathe.
Lifting up on her tiptoes, Cara kisses the side of Arno’s cheek before backing away from him and facing me.
“Arno. Sloan. I’d like for ye to meet Callum. However, I think ye’ve all met before.”
My blood runs cold, my wide eyes meeting Arno’s, who’s looking over the top of my head with a look that could kill.
“Arno, mate, you don’t look too happy to see me. It’s been a long time.”
I try to hide the slight tremble in my knees as I remain still, allowing the guard's arm to hold me upright. I focus on my breathing, trying to remain calm as footsteps come up from behind. I’m still staring at Arno, his brows furrowed tightly, his forehead creases above his dark eyes.
I can see him in my peripherals, his tall stature coming into my line of sight as he invades the space in front of me. Looking up, I see him, his dark eyes fixated on my face as his fingers catch beneath my chin, tilting my head further towards his face.
“Hello, love. Miss me?”
Colson’s body slumps forward, the rope secured to his wrists the only thing keeping him upright. Everett’s pained voice fills the small room.
“Co-Colson?” I wrap my arms around his torso, gently so as not to hurt him anymore than he already is. Leaning him back in the chair, his head falls back, a deep purple and blue bruise spreads across his neck. I have to swallow to keep the bile from rising in my throat any further. Anger, pain, and sadness are swirling within me at the sight of my brother bruised, beaten, tortured, and emaciated to a state I’ve never seen before—and I’ve seen some fucked-up shit.
I make quick work of the ropes securing his wrists, while Everett does the same with the ropes around his ankles.
“Hold on, mate, we’re here. Everett and I are here.” My voice cracks, guilt rearing its ugly face as I carefully lower each of his arms as I untie them. As soon as I free his arms, I gently place two fingers on his throat to make sure he’s alive. It takes a moment, but I can feel the faintest pulse, and I let out a breath of relief.
“He’s alive,” I manage to whisper.
“Fucking barely, look at him,” Everett barks, his anger mixed with guilt evident in his voice. “Come on, we need to get him to Stone and Cain immediately.” I nod to Everett, the pair of us grabbing an arm and wrapping them around our shoulders.
“On the count of three. One. Two. Three.” Lifting Colson’s limp body, we carefully make our way back to the door. I kick the dead guard as hard as I can, moving his body out of the way. As we carry Colson down the tunnel, he lets out a pained moan as we round the corner and head towards the stairs.
“You’re alright, mate, we’ve got you,” Everett groans. Colson is by far the lightest among the three of us, but when it comes to deadweight, anything feels heavy. Reaching the stairs, I shift Colson’s weight to Everett so I can get ahead of him. We take our time, taking one step at a time until we finally reach the top. I radio into Stone and Cain informing them we have Colson and we’re bringing him out now.
Exiting the stone building, we head to the drop location where we hand off Colson to the guys.
“For fuck's sake, is he alive?” Stone asks, as we help get Colson in the back of the suburban where Cain is waiting with medical supplies.
“Yes, he’s fucking alive. Just clean him up the best you can and get him some water!” I bellow to Stone. He doesn’t respond, just hops in the back with Cain and begins their assessment of Colson.
“Come on, we don’t have much time,” I say to Everett, as the pair of us jog back around the compound. Silently, we make it to the stone building once again. Checking our surroundings, we creep around the building. Our plan is to come up from behind, bringing the element of surprise. I look at Everett silently mouthing, “On the count of three.”—I raise my fingers—“one, two, three.”
The moment we round the corner, we stop dead in our tracks.
“Hello, brother, you miss me?” The smirk on Callum’s face is my undoing, and I see red. I ram my shoulder directly into his gut, throwing him onto his back with a thud. He lets out a groan as the wind gets knocked out of him. Rising up, I swing my fist over and over again connecting with his face; blood soon covers my knuckles.
A sharp jab to my ribs bends me over. I suck in a breath as the sharp pain feels like a knife to my side. Callum shoves me from his chest, his fist cracking against my jaw as I fall back to the wet grass. Everett is right there, wrapping his bicep around his brother’s neck and pulling him to his feet. I shoot to my feet, tightening my fists as I deliver blow after blow to Callum’s stomach. Low groans escaping his throat as he continues to fight Everett’s grip on his neck. Just when Callum’s body begins to slowly slump over from lack of oxygen, I’m thrown to the grass once more. I’m crushed by a force I didn’t see coming. The recognizable sound of metal clicking above me has me stilling as I turn to look up at a man who is pointing a gun directly at my temple.
“Didn’t I kill you already, mate?” His voice is nails on a chalkboard, as I slowly rise to my feet, his gun never once leaving my head.
“Van. I see you’re still playing the role of someone’s bitch. As always,” I cough out as I try to catch my breath.
“Nah, mate, you see that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve never been anyone’s bitch. I’m a key player here. Look who’s got the gun.” He laughs as he looks at me down his barrel.
“You really think you’re the only one with a gun? You really are stupider than you look, mate.” Everett draws Van’s attention from me as he holds a gun to Callum’s head. His brother continuing to struggle beneath his hold.
“Put the gun down, Van, and maybe I won’t kill your bestie here.” Callum chuckles to himself, the maniacal sound making me tense.