Page 7 of Torn In Two

“Hawk, please,” Hayden pleaded. “I can’t lose her.”

My heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. Not just for him, having to watch her so lifeless, but for me. Hayden hadn’t seen Kara in years, and yet he knew exactly what he wanted. What she was to him.

Everyone knew he loved her and how she felt about him. We’d all seen it in the way she’d defended him, despite the shitty things he’d done. I’d downplayed it as Stockholm syndrome, all while knowing it was more than that. It was why I’d been so damn scared to tell her the truth, knowing whatever the bond was between them, it was stronger than anything I could try to compete with.

I’d had her in my arms for weeks. Had her naked in my sheets. And all I’d done was make her come. I’d been too fucking gutless to tell her the truth. To tell her I wanted more than just what was between her legs.

Wanted her for her.

I pinched her nose again and breathed two short breaths into her mouth before releasing her nostrils.

I glanced up at Chaos.

“Please, Hawk,” he begged softly. “I’ll do anything.”

Fuck. I’d held a gun to the guy’s head no less than thirty minutes earlier, and I’d been fully prepared to pull the trigger.

Now I was watching him break in a way that stirred up memories I had spent a long time trying to bury.

The memory hit me hard.

“Hawk, please! Save her!”

It was another man’s voice in my head. Another set of eyes that pleaded with me to save the love of his life.

No matter how much I hated Hayden, nobody deserved to lose their soulmate. Not him.

Not me.

Neither of us was losing her tonight.

Hades could go to Hell alone. None of us were following him.

I pinched her nose again and pleaded with her, my lips barely above hers. “Come on, Kara. If you aren’t going to breathe for me, I get it. I never deserved you in the first place. But maybe you’ll breathe for him. He’s right fucking there. You just gotta open your eyes.”

I didn’t care who she wanted. Only that she wanted it enough to live.

I forced more air into her lungs.

She jerked beneath me. A gasp for air followed, the sound pure joy to my shattered heart. “She’s breathing,” I bit out, fingers shaking as I rolled her onto her side and stroked her back.

A cheer went up around us.

Which was so out of place when there were two dead bodies and a whole lot of questions that needed answering.

4

GRAYSON

The group of men gathered around on cheap folding chairs looked as ordinary as any. If anything, they were perhaps more average than the regular Joe.

A clever disguise common with men like them.

None of them wanted attention, and styling yourself as normal as possible was the easiest way to do that. They wore jeans and T-shirts and sneakers. Their hair was brown or blond or black and styled with regular, off-the-barber-shop-wall cuts. Nothing special. They could have been suburban dads. Tradesmen. White-collar office workers. Truck drivers.

You’d pass them on the street and never give any of them a second look. They were underestimated every day by almost every person in their lives.

A dangerous mistake to make.

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