Page 88 of Savage Heart

More moments of silence followed, when she asked, “Is Slick in trouble?”

Trouble heaved a sigh. “He’s not in trouble. But he is in the hospital—”

Liz gasped. “What happened to him?”

Trouble chuckled humorlessly. “Youhappened.” He turned to look at her again. “Apparently, you nearly hit a car in the Albertson’s parking lot.”

“Yeah,nearly,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“You missed it, but it didn’t miss Slick. It clipped his back wheel, and he and the bike went down.”

Struck with fear and guilt, Liz couldn’t speak for a few moments. Then…she remembered the commotion in the grocery store parking lot. It must have been Slick. Fuck…she’d caused an accident; it was her fault Slick was hurt, and she’d just left him there.

Tears swelling in her eyes once more, she confessed, “You’re right. It’s my fault he’s hurt. Is he…it is serious?”

Trouble offered her a soft smile. “No, baby, he just as a bit of road rash and a banged-up knee; he’ll be alright.”

Nodding, she turned to look out the window, watching as Vegaswooshedby.

In the packed conference room, Trouble reported what had happened, and what Liz had told him. There were growls and snarls of outrage, inquiries about how Liz was doing, and even more questions about what they fuck they were going to do now.

“Leonid is pissed that we killed his bitch boy,” Odin rumbled, annoyed. “You’d think he’d be grateful that we dealt with his little problem for him. That asshole was making moves to takeover, and Leonid didn’t know shit until we told him about it.”

Fang snorted. “It’s about respect to Families like that. They don’t care what Danil did, they cared that you took away their chance at revenge.”

“Yeah, I doubt Oblek’s death would have been as swift and easy if the boss got his hands on him first,” Hawk remarked.

“The sick fucks would probably force him to fuck a bear trap or some shit.” All eyes turned to Hell Hound.

Trouble curled his lip at the image of what Hound had said.

“That’s some fucked up shit, alright,” Fang admitted, his own lips cocked in a humorous smirk. The man had seensome shitin his years as a member of the Calderone Cartel.

“Well, no matter what they would have done to him, the problem is that they didn’t get the chance to do anything, because Trouble’s bullet hit it’s mark.”

“Of course, it fucking did,” Trouble drawled, grinning.

“So, we can put butt hurt Russians in our ‘not friendly’ column, but what do we do from here? Danil was their brigadier in Vegas; it’ll take a bit to put someone else in his place, that’s assuming that Medev can clean up Oblek’s messes.” Trouble had been right, Grimm had been pissed he missed out on the action.

AFK tapped a few keys on his laptop, and the screen at the head of the room came on. And the images that flashed up on it, made Trouble’s guts twist.

Girls. Young women, really, like Liz had been when he’d first met her. Every single one of the young women in the images were naked…their pale skin sliced open in so many places, they looked like they’d been tossed into a blender.

“What the fuck?” Hound barked, his face ashen. Every man in the room, their faces leached of blood, their rage bright eyes glued to the screen.

“These are just a few of the women I was able to pin on Oblek, but I suspect there’ll be dozens more. Apparently, he had a blood play kink, and he twisted it up with that knife play shit. The fucker never left a single one of those girls alive.”

His skin crawling, Trouble’s mind picturing his Liz up there on the screen, her sun-kissed skin slashed open, her dead eyes staring sightlessly into the camera. Motherfuck!

“That could have been Liz,” he croaked.

“Yeah, brother, but you got to her in time. And now she’s sitting in the common room, getting her ass reamed by the other ol’ ladies—she’s safe, she’s healthy, she’s here because you saved her.” Dragon’s words permeated the thick fog of desolation that had captured Trouble’s mind. Closing his eyes to hide the images on the screen, he sighed.

“Holy shit,” Grimm exploded, making all eyes shoot to him in alarm. The mischievous grin on his face kept Trouble from throwing himself over the table, and punching him in the throat. “I have never, not in six years, heard so many words come out of your mouth, Dragon. It’s like motherfucking poetry, like the most delightful haiku.”

Dragon grunted, but Trouble could see the slight curve of a smile on the corners of his mouth.

Much to Trouble’s shock, Raptor added, “More like a dirty limerick.”

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