Page 141 of Altered

I had no plans on trying to make amends with the man upstairs.

I would leave that to the men actually capable of redemption – the men who felt remorse for their actions.

Because I sure as hell wasn’t one of those men.

I had been beaten, stabbed, and was drenched in blood when they finally got the better of me.

With my shirt ripped clean off my body, I collapsed on my knees as the bite of a second blade cut through my chest, slicing me open.

Pinned to ground on his stomach with half his fucking face caved in, Noah continued to buck and kick against the men holding him down.

When the two men who were holding me up began to drag me away from Noah, I felt a flicker of hope inside of me.

This wasn’t for him.

He wasn’t going to die tonight.

Just me.

Noah's voice was all I could hear as he roared at me, and frantically tried and failed to fight his way off the ground.

"Take care of my girl for me, man," I called out before I was dragged through the dirt and gravel in the direction of the warehouse.

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Chapter Fifty-Five

Lucky

You could tell a lot about a man from the look of his eyes.

You could tell even more about a man when he couldn’t look you in the eyes.

And right now, Gonzalez couldn’t look atme.

"Bolillo," he acknowledged in a tight tone when the men tossed me on the ground, feet from the roaring flames of the bonfire. "It is time."

Above the sound of the fire roaring and the conflict, I could hear Noah still roaring and calling my name, but it was the sound of a baby crying that really broke through my thoughts.

I wasn’t a squeamish man as a rule, I wasn’t a forgiving one either, but the sight of Annabelle cradling her screaming baby less than fifty feet from me, while one of G's men held a gun to her head, did some horrible fucking things to my conscience.

"A mother and baby?" I tossed out, glaring at the piece of shit that had clearly betrayed me. "The fuck you doing, G?"

Maybe it was impending fatherhood that brought the emotions out of me, but this was wrong.

Maybe it was knowing I would never meet my own child that made me feel for Annabelle.

Because Iwouldn’t.

And Hope?

Fuck, I couldn’t think about it.

I couldn’t think about what this was going to do to her.

I needed to hold it together.

I would not crumble like a pussy.

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