Page 187 of Beautifully Reckless

A female fucking body.

Air gets trapped in my lungs as we step closer to see our beautiful Jols, lifeless, laying in a pool of blood. Her blood.

“Fuck!” JD bellows, rushing forward. “No! Jols!” His strangled words tumble from him as he falls to his knees by her side, while the paramedics continue to pump her chest.

“Another ambulance is on its way,” one paramedic tells him, but her eyes hold nothing but sympathy.

Fuck.

Jols is going to die.

Or maybe…. maybe she’s already dead.

“Fuck!” I scream, fisting my hands in my hair, my gaze scanning over Alana and my ma huddled on the couch next to Millie who looks pale as fuck. “Someone tell me fucking something!”

I’m losing it. Fucking losing it.

“Brody got shot in the gut,” Lans stands, but she doesn’t approach me, “but the bullet went right through. I patched him up.” Lans points to Brody who’s sitting on the floor by the window, tears wetting his cheeks as he watches his brother fall apart over Jols.

“Mills got shot in the leg, but it’s just a flesh wound,” Alana rushes out, before pointing to our ma. “Ma and I are fine. Abbey made sure of it.”

“What the fuck do you mean, Abbey made sure of it? Where the fuck is she?”

Lans and Millie share a look, and I expect Millie to start talking since she’s usually the one to step in and take control, but it’s Alana who continues.

“She made sure they wouldn’t hurt us anymore… and made sure we were locked safely in the panic room.”

With fury coiling through every muscle, I storm to my sister, and she shrinks back, falling into the couch as I jab a fucking finger at her.

“Explain. What do you mean, Abbey made sure they wouldn’t hurt you? Where. The fuck. Is she?!”

Alana’s lip starts wobbling, tears instantly bursting from her eyes as she starts muttering incoherently.

“Sarg.” Murf cuts in, and I have a right fucking mind to shoot the fucker for interrupting me, but I know he wouldn’t unless it’s something I need to know.

“What?” I snap.

“Stoneris dead on the lawn.” The emotion is thick in Murf’s throat, and he takes a moment to clear it as I drag my gaze from my sister to my club brother. “We also found Mule… up on the ridge with his throat slashed.”

Tucker is dead.

Stoner is dead.

Mule is dead.

Jols… fuck Jols might be dead.

And Abbey… my Angel… Where the fuck is she?

Turning back to my sister, I make sure our eyes are locked before I speak.

“Lans, I swear to fucking God. Where the fuck is my wife?” I’ve never spoken to her with such cold malice before, but I’m done being fucking patient.

But, it does the trick. Finally, my sister breaks.

“She g-gave herself u-up. At least that’s w-what she told them, but we h-heard her, Cam.” Alana stands quickly, taking my hand. “She fought them. Stabbed one. Ran upstairs. I don’t know what happened after that, but I couldn’t find her or any sign of the men that did this. She was just… gone.”

I thought I’d felt pain before. But nothing compares to this. Agony in its rawest form. Brutal. Tortuous. Crippling.

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