Page 79 of Brightness

“Ivy!” My chest squeezes tight as panic rips through me. “Ivy!”

She tries to fight them too, but there’s too fucking many of them as they drag her out, kicking and screaming under her gag.

“Fuck!” I scream out as I struggle in my restraints.

They exit the bungalow, causing my anxiety to reach a critical level.

Get to Ivy.

I must get to Ivy.

So, I jump on the seat, trying to break it, but all it does is topple to the side, and I slam to the floor with a massive thud, a deep pain rippling through me. My ribs cause my breath to catch as my nose crinkles and my eyes burn from a strange smell. My gaze shoots up as smoke begins to waft in under the front door.

“Shit!” I spin my head around to see it’s coming in the back door too.

The haze wafts in, heading directly for me as I wrestle with the fucking chair. Smoke floods the floor of the bungalow, making me cough. My eyes sting as I fight harder to free myself, but they have me tied up pretty fucking tight. Adrenaline spikes through my veins as orange and yellow flickers through the living room window. That sight kicks me up a notch, but I am still not making any headway. Coughing and spluttering, I start to become dizzy. All I’m really doing is turning in fucking circles.

I’m not getting anywhere.

Shifting, I attempt to sit up. My plan is to drop onto the chair and break it, but my body is weakening with all the strenuous effort I’ve put in so far. I manage to stand and drop to the floor, but the chair doesn’t budge.

Not knowing what to do next, I lie still, taking a couple of shallow breaths while trying not to breathe in too much smoke. Right in the nick of fucking time, someone breaks down the front door, woodgrain splintering off in all directions. I lift my head as a vision of Dash enters the flaming bungalow.

What the fuck!

Am I hallucinating?

Dash rushes to me, pulls out a knife, and cuts me free. “C’mon, fucker, up you get,” he urges, then lifts me from the chair, half carrying me toward the entry of the house. As we get out onto the front porch, a section of roof slams down in front of us, completely alight.

Dash grabs the rocking chair to the right of us and uses it to push the debris out of the way enough for us to pass through. We rush out to the front area and both fall onto the freshly cut grass, gasping and coughing frantically. Dash pats my back, trying to help me breathe as we both watch the quaint little bungalow go up in a fiery inferno, and with it, the last of my strength.

I move to stand, but instantly fall back to the ground, panting for breath. “We need to find Ivy,” I croak out.

“No, we need to call for help. We’re too far away from either club to get backup in time, but Ivy did tell me of someone nearby who might be able to help.”

I cough, narrowing my eyes in on him. “Back the fuck up. Why are you even here? Weren’t you supposed to be off taking a break or some shit?”

Another section of the roof caves in with a giant thud, which makes us both jump, but Dash shakes his head in confusion.

“Is that what Nycto told you?”

I shrug, clearing my throat, trying to take in a deep, centering breath, but I can’t seem to get one.

“No. He sent me out here in secret as surveillance. I was told to be your backup, but to keep my distance. Said I needed to learn to respect my VP again… and your relationship with Ivy. I’m sorry, man. Ivy’s amazing, we both know that. Watching you guys together hasn’t been easy, but I get it. I get what Nycto was laying down. As long as you make her happy, which, from what I have seen over the last few days, you do, then I’m happy.”

“So Nycto punished you by making you watch us together, huh? Clever, sadistic man. I appreciate you taking a step back, brother. But this is all shit talk, ’cause we gotta get her back.”

“Let’s make a call and go get your girl.”

Chapter Twenty

IVY

As I’m ushered down a long, winding road, the scenery could be seen as beautiful, if it weren’t for the fucked-up situation. The hill we’re walking along the top of spreads down, opening up into an open field with a deep blue lake at the bottom. Quaint little homes line the area, giving this place a real homey vibe.

Void’s father—Wyatt, he calls himself, but I call him asshole—mumbles away about some shit, but I’ve blocked his muttering out.

We walk past a large home on top of the hill overlooking the splendor below. It even has a little sty out the front with pigs being tended to by a woman, but she doesn’t make eye contact as we stroll past.

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