Page 186 of Beautifully Reckless

Where is it?

In a last attempt to protect myself, I peel my gaze away from him and search for the gun.

It’s only a few feet away, so I quickly move to grab it, but before I reach it, a strong fist slams into my jaw.

The hit is so hard, it rattles my brain, and for a moment, I fear I might black out from the pain.

I cry out, gagging, the impact completely messing with me, and before I know what’s happening, the men are closing in.

“Hold her fucking arms.” One of the men demands before two sets of feet move to either side of me.

Are there more men here now?

Shit. I can’t make sense of anything. Everything seems darker. Noises seem further. And my head aches so bad.

Shit… Little cabbage… I’m sorry.

As I’m lifted by each arm, a figure steps into the room, a slow clap filling the space and a familiar vulgar laugh joins it.

“You put on quite a show, Ms Delaney.” Ian Allen smiles, like he has a front row seat of my demise. “But your little disappearing act is over now. It’s time to pay your dues.”

I can’t even find words to spit back as air seizes in my lungs. The mere sight of Officer Allen closing in takes me back to the day he threatened my sisters. Takes me back to the mouse I was only a couple of months ago.

Now, standing before me, he smiles, reaching out to snatch my chin as he leans in close. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

I try to rear back, but it’s no use, his grip, and that of his men at my sides has me stuck in place, and a moment later, I feel a sharp pinch in my arm.

“Wha—” My squeak is cut off when my gaze darts to my arm, a dead feeling rushing through it as the contents inside the syringe embedded in my skin gets pushed into my bloodstream.

No.

My gaze follows Ian Allen’s hand as he withdraws the needle, and he smiles at me like we are old friends. “See you in your nightmares, Abigail.”

Then, my room sways, turning fuzzy, right before everything goes black.

32

The van tears over the bumps on the windy roads as I struggle to keep the fucking thing from veering over the edge of the steep incline.

“Everyone armed and ready?” JD calls to our team, as I speed up the road that leads to my home.

My fucking sanctuary.

The moment my front gate comes into view, dread so fucking heavy I feel like it could drown me flares in my gut. The strong metal bars of the custom made gate are bent and twisted, hanging loosely on its hinges like a fucking tornado swept through here.

I flatten my foot to the floor as I peel off the main road and up my gravel driveway, everyone inside the van white-knuckling whatever they can hold on to to stay upright as I drive like a fucking mad man.

And I am a fucking mad man. The moment Cookie’s fucking brains were spraying the air, I was charging for a vehicle that could get me to my girl.

The moment we burst into the clearing, the flashing lights of an ambulance has me slamming on the brakes, throwing the fucking thing into park and leaping from the vehicle.

“Abbey!” I scream at the top of my lungs, my frantic gaze darting around to find a male body strewn on the grass in the clearing.

Trunk and Murf run in that direction while I charge around the ambulance to stare at the fucking destruction leading all the way into my house.

“Fuck.” JD hisses next to me as we both find Tucker shot up like someone was using him for fucking target practise. “Brody,” JD whispers, fear choking him up. “Brody! Jols!”

“In here!” Alana’s voice echoes from inside, and we charge up the steps, bursting through the door where paramedics are working profusely, doing CPR on a body.

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