Page 43 of Ruthless

Chapter 17

Rebel

I pulled into the parking lot of Ginger's apartment complex just as a black Camaro screeched out onto the main road. I flipped the driver the bird because his reckless exit had nearly clipped the front wheel of my bike as I'd been turning in. Whoever he was, he was in a fucking hurry. I parked my bike in a vacant spot and made my way to Ginger's door.

My steps slowed as I neared her apartment and I noticed that Della's door was wide open. I slowed down as the inside of her apartment came into view. The first thing I noticed as I paused in the doorway was the silence. My gut told me there was no one there. I began to look around, noticing the disarray of items that had been neat and orderly the evening before.

Then my gaze landed on the first droplets of blood that were splattered on the wall. Shit! I instinctively reached for the gun that I kept tucked at the back of my pants. "Anyone here?" I rushed through the room to her bedroom, taking in the overturned lamp, the pillows on the floor, and the cracked mirror on the wall as I went. "Della?" She wasn't there, but it was apparent that her bedroom was where the attack had begun. There was blood on the sheets. I spun around to go back the way I'd come, following the trail of blood to Ginger's door.

Fuck! There were smears of blood all over the door.

I turned the knob, but it was locked. I'd made a key, but I didn't waste any time digging it out of my pocket. I took a step back and raised my foot, kicking the door open with one kick. As it flew back against the wall my gaze landed on Della's prone, beaten body on the floor. I dropped to my haunches and checked for a pulse. Her weak moan revealed that she was barely holding on to consciousness.

"Della, it's Rebel, sweetheart. Can you tell me what happened?" I'd already dug out my phone and was punching in 911, brushing her hair out of her swollen face. My gaze darted around the apartment, searching for Ginger. My gut told me that she wasn't there.

"Ginger…"

"Where is she?" I asked, trying to remain calm. The 911 operator picked up, and I gave her the address, telling her that there'd been an attack and that we needed the police and an ambulance. Then I dialed Tanner, the Sentinels' president, and a friend of mine who also happened to be cool with Daytona law enforcement, just in case I needed him. "Della--" I reached for the throw hanging off the back of the sofa and arranged it carefully under her head. She moaned again as I moved her. "Sorry, sweetheart." Jesus, she was a bloody mess. Unable to tell if she had a wound that needed immediate attention, I searched to see if she was bleeding out anywhere. "Where's Ginger?" Blood was staining the fabric between her legs.

"Gone," she murmured low.

I'd figured that. "Did someone take her?"

I caught her slight nod. "D-Daryl."

I frowned. "He did this shit to you?"

Again she nodded. "H-He came ba-ack for money. Though I-I was lying?" She couldn't finish her sentence as she was gripped by some terrible pain.

The fucking prick! I should have known from the way he'd stomped out of the apartment the night before that he was going to come back.

"Did-Didn't have it." She paused and took a slow breath. "Beat m-me."

That was fucking obvious. "Why did he take Ginger?"

She closed her eyes and I watched tears leak out of the corners. "My fault," she admitted in a pained voice. "I-I came ov-over here. Tr-tried to get a-way from him."

She didn't need to explain the rest. It was easy to surmise what had happened after that. The little fucker! I was going to end him. I fisted my hand, fighting the urge to slam it against the wall, angry at myself for deciding to stay at a motel the night before. With the job I had to work later that evening with Jace and Moody, I'd wanted a solid, undisturbed sleep. Being curled up around Ginger's soft, enticing curves would have been too distracting.

I could hear the sirens in the distance. Normally I wouldn't have hung around, but I wasn't a bastard. I couldn't leave Della alone like this, and I needed more answers before they took her away. "Sweetheart, do you know where he took her?"

Her face was swollen beyond recognition, blood was seeping from her nose and mouth and an area behind her ear. Her lips were split open. One eye was completely swollen shut. Her clothes were torn, the blood that was splattered on them probably coming from her face. Her fingers were broken on one hand, her other hand was gripping between her legs. She was lying in a semi-fetal position. I could only imagine what kind of internal injuries she may have.

"Don't know," she finally got out in a soft tone. "I h-heard Daryl say he knew someone . . ." She drifted off, to gather her thoughts I assumed. I waited, the close sound of the sirens revealing that they'd arrived. "A m-man. I think. Someone lo-looking for girls?” A deep furrow appeared between her brows. "Does th-that sound right?" It was obvious that she thought she was confused by what she'd heard.

I wasn't confused over what she'd overheard, only slightly amazed that Daryl would have those kinds of connections. He hadn't struck me as someone with friends in those circles.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. Listen, the cops will be here any second. Don't mention anything about Daryl taking Ginger." I wanted to deal with that little fucker myself. "Okay?" I sensed her hesitation and realized that she may be having a hard time comprehending what I was saying. "Do you understand, Della? I'll get Ginger back. And I'll make Daryl pay. You want that, right?" She nodded. "Then leave it to me. All you need to tell the cops is that you don't know who attacked you. Can you do that?"

"Yes," she whispered. She grabbed for my hand. "Please find her."

"Police!"

I looked up to see two cops come through the doorway, and Tanner was right behind them. His serious gaze took in the scene before our eyes met. He and I went way back, and I knew that I could trust him to see the truth before his eyes.

"Who called it in?" the younger cop asked. The older, heavier cop squatted next to Della.

"I did," I said, getting to my feet slowly. I kept my hands in plain sight, because experience had taught me that some cops jumped to conclusions. "I found her like this."

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