Page 11 of Savior

Had it been one of them?

I didn’t want to believe it.

“Trying to escape again? What’s that—the third time this week?” Cobra sank into a chair in the corner, crossing one leg over the other with a wry grin. “Thought you would’ve realized by now that you aren’t walking out of here.”

It seemed I had nothing but time.

And I’d spent every second trying to find a way out. The chains around my wrists were bolted into a stone floor. I’d used something similar in my kill rooms, knowing that unless my prisoner knew how to tunnel through rock with his hands, there was no way out. It hadn’t stopped me from trying to break my own body down, piece by piece, to get back to my family, though.

Something that had fascinated Cobra to no end.

“Tell me, did Manny think he was going to be saved?”

I shook my head and sank down against the wall, completely spent. “He knew he was a dead man the second we showed up. My club’s gonna come lookin’ for you, and when they do, you’ll know exactly how that feels.”

My fingers twitched from the tremors that had wracked my body for days. I didn’t know whether it was from the wound in my chest or the stress put on my joints from being shackled to a wall. Fuck, for all I knew, it was nothing more than nicotine withdrawals.

Cobra pulled a cigar from the inside of his jacket and lit up with a smirk. “Is that so? You really think your men are out combing the streets to find you?”

I nodded, wanting nothing more than to puff on the cigar in his hand until my head cleared. “They won’t rest until—”

“Until what, Grey? Do you see them going on television to plead for your safe return? Passing out flyers? What exactly is it that your men are doing?”

I didn’t know.

Everything had gone dark after I was shot, punctuated by only the briefest bursts of color. I saw Rick above me, pleading with me to stay alive. At one point, there’d been a blinding whiteness directly overhead, like the headlights on a Mack truck and then everything was a blur. Maybe that was when I’d gotten separated from my men. All I knew for sure was that I'd woken up here, in nothing but my jeans with stitches too perfect to have come from any club doctor running the length of my chest.

As long as the club was still searching for the Sons, I had a fighting chance.

“That’s what I thought. Nothing.” He exhaled a stream of smoke toward me and glanced at his watch. “I think it’s time for a little bedtime story. You’ve been looking more… worn down. What do you say?”

I shook my head. It was just another ploy to fuck with my mind.

“No?” he asked. “Alright then, how about this? Your family had a lovely funeral in the middle of a goddamned ice storm; so, tell me again how hard they’re looking for you. You should’ve seen Celia; not one single tear. Why do you think that is?”

My heart plummeted to the concrete. I knew exactly why; in fact, I was probably the only person alive who was aware of how she shut down when shit got too heavy. Only this time, I wouldn’t be there to shoulder the weight and bring her back.

She thought I was gone.

They all did.

I’d always known I’d never survive without her. Now, it was apparent, neither would she.

“Why the fuck am I still kickin’ then?” I growled. “Saint got what he wanted, didn’t he? Took a fuckin’ bullet to the chest—why not end it already?”

“See, now it’s interesting to me that you’re willing to give up so easily. Manny? Sure, I expected that cocksucker to go to his grave sniveling like a toddler. But, you?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth with a shake of his head before bringing the cigar back up to his lips. “I had a lot more riding on you fighting until the end. Manny, he thought he knew better than everyone because he spent more time on the streets. He was too impatient to see the big picture. I cut my losses when he wanted to go after your daughters—”

“Don’t sit there and act like you weren’t talkin’ of doin’ the same goddamn thing to them. Ain’t that what you said when I got here?” I was baiting him into doing something stupid in the hopes he’d give up more information. The more he talked, the more I’d learn.

If my family thought I was six feet under, then I was going to have to work twice as hard to escape; even if the wound in my chest was nowhere near healed.

Cobra freed another cigar from his jacket and held it out. “You want this? Then shut the fuck up. I have no interest in going after children, but news flash, your girls aren’t so little anymore. Now, before you lose your head, just know that as long as you’re cooperating, they’ll stay safe.”

“Like you kept my wife safe?” I growled, my wrist popping against the chain. “So, you caught a fuckin’ break and got me. Just gonna leave me chained up to the goddamn wall until I die of old age? Oh, that’s right. You don’t call the fuckin’ shots. That’s what Hawk told us anyway—said you answer to Saint. What I don’t get is what’s in it for you?”

There had to be a plan in place. Saint had worked too hard moving us around like pieces on a chessboard for it to have all been for nothing.

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