Page 9 of Protector

I greedily gulped the remainder down, ignoring the sting from the cuts inside my mouth, while Angel watched me warily from across the bathroom.

“This is what you want?” He finally asked.

I nodded, even as the pain came over me in waves; battering me just as I seemed to be coming up for air.

“We’ll do it, but there’s gonna be a day where you have to tell him the truth. Strong or not—he deserves to know.”

It was better if no one knew.

This would be the sin that I carried to my grave; along with the things they’d done to my body. The shameful secrets that I buried deep.

“Give us the names, Celia,” Michael urged.

I took a deep breath. “Hawk was working against the club with a man called Cobra. He said he was a Serpent. The third man…” I fought through the haze that had settled over me to remember Lip Ring’s name. “Cobra called him Manny; said he was Los Dicta—the gangbangers that hurt Molly.”

Michael’s eyes widened. “It ain’t possible. We killed all of ‘em—”

I recalled Cobra’s words; my tongue heavy in my mouth. “You can drive out a nest of snakes, but if you don’t kill every last one of them, they come right back. Only this time,” I panted. “They’re mad as hell.”

The body that had been wrecked at the hands of men who hated my husband turned on me; twisting and tightening until every fiber of my being ached.

I groaned and tried lifting my hand to grip Michael’s vest, only to realize I couldn’t move it. I stared down at my other arm, but only managed to twitch my index finger.

“H-h-help m-me,” I slurred.

Michael’s mouth moved into a flat line. “Gave you a little something to help you sleep. Me and Angel’ll get this place cleaned up. You need to rest now.”

I tried to shake my head, but nothing in my body was under my control anymore. More blood pulsed from between my legs, but the pain was gone.

The carousel in my head slowed, and I was whisked away to a place where I felt like I was floating. I’d just decided that I would stay forever when I looked up and saw Cobra standing just outside the bathroom doorway.

“I had to get another taste, sweetheart.” He unbuttoned his jacket with a grin and stalked toward me. As he did, his head morphed into that of an actual cobra. I was momentarily distracted from the change because, despite the beating he’d doled out, his suit was still in pristine condition.

Not even one wrinkle.

Angel turned to him with a nod and went back to sweeping up the glass. The halo over his head tilted as he bent over, and he straightened it with a growl. “Try not to make such a mess this time, yeah?”

Cobra flipped him off, never taking his eyes off of mine. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. If you’re lucky, I’ll consider letting you watch. What do you think, Celia? You want Angel to watch as I fuck you deep?”

I began screaming, reopening every wound until my mouth and throat filled with blood. It flowed from my nose and mouth, cutting my scream off into a gurgle.

Michael massaged my shoulder before ripping the towel down. “You be as loud as you fuckin’ want, Celia. Ain’t no one around to interrupt us.”

He began fumbling with the zipper on his jeans while I lay helplessly against the side of the bathtub. Angel swept another pile of glass into the trashcan and straightened his halo before meeting my gaze.

“Sorry, Celia. Grey should’ve paid us more. You were a debt… that’s all you’ve ever been. That’s all you’ll ever be. You want us to keep your secrets, you have to pay the price.”

“Open up, doll,” Michael gripped my chin in his hand, squeezing until the bones began to give. Only he wasn’t Michael anymore—this was Comedian. He looked exactly the same, but I knew the difference.

This was the monster that hurt Mikey.

“No, no,” Cobra snapped through his fangs. “That’s not how we play this game, is it? I go first while you watch.”

“Fuck that,” Comedian growled. “Her old man kept a secret from me, didn’t he, Celia?”

I shook my head. “I’m s-sorry—”

My words cut off as he shoved himself into my mouth, gagging me. I struggled to take a breath, but Comedian showed no sign of letting up, even as I began to vomit. His fists tightened in my hair, tethering me to him.

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