Page 82 of Don't Break My Heart
I get my thumb under one of the little gaps and am able to ease it apart. The first part of the knots slips open. Oh, fuck yes. Then it’s easy, the rest comes apart in my hands. I do all I can not to move my bad hand too much, just letting the good one do all the unraveling until I have my hands free.
I waste no time undoing each ankle that is tied to the legs of the armchair. Shakily I get to my feet. My body is weak and my head is spinning, but I don’t care, I have to try. I grip hold of the furniture, letting it guide me over to the wall where the control panel is. I try to think like Orlando. Why the fuck didn’t I get Onyx to tell me what the code was last time we needed this room?
I stare at the control panel. It’s like a mobile phone keypad, all letters and numbers. Think, Sloane, come on. It’s like a fucking lightbulb flashes in my brain and I know what the code is. What’s the most important thing to Orlando? His treasure. Me. Shakily I type in treasure and pray to whoever will listen that I know him as well as I think I do.
The door slides open, revealing the fucking best sight I could possibly imagine right now. I glance over my shoulder, having no clue how long I have before Valentine will be back. I go for a switchblade and a nice-looking Sig Sauer, something light and easy for me to handle and hide until he gets back. I tuck it in the back of my jeans. Then I grab for another gun, shoving it in the side of my boot, using my jeans to cover it up. The last thing I grab is a hand grenade, that I slide into the pocket of my jacket. Yep, he even has those in this room. I figure if it all turns to shit, I blow us all up before the boys get here. At least then they will survive. I want to cry at the thought. I can’t lose them, not now.
I suck in a deep breath, trying to get the fear coursing through me under control, then close the sliding door to the weapons room. I hear a commotion outside the room, Valentine yelling at his guard I think, and rush back over to the chair I was sitting in.
I could run out there, guns blazing, but the truth is, I have no idea how many men he has here with him. The reality is I could be overpowered very quickly, even if I kill Valentine. I need to be more calculated. And I feel like the element of surprise might just be my friend.
I wrap the rope around my ankles loosely this time so I can move with ease when I need to. Then I do my wrists again, wincing every time I have to move my broken hand. When I’m done, I tuck the switchblade under my good hand and wait.
The door opens, and Valentine enters with an air of confidence I can’t wait to knock off his fucked-up face. He smugly strides over to me. “Boys are on their way.” He leans in, touching my face again. I flinch away from him. “Let the fun begin.”
He brings his hand down over my face, slapping me so fucking hard my breath catches in my chest, and I feel like I might just puke all over him. “I never could see what my brothers wanted you for. Women are good only when they are trained and obedient, and you are neither of those things. It must be the sex then, is that what it is? He reaches between my legs and cups me through my jeans. “Should I have a little fun before my big brothers get here?” His head dips closer to mine, and he breathes me in. “I fucking think so, don’t you, darling?” His hand moves to unbuckle my jeans. “I bet you like it dirty just like the whores in my club.”
I’m done with biding my time, this piece of shit needs to die. I bring my hand up, flicking the knife open and quickly plunging it deep into the side of his throat, right where I want it.
He reels back, not understanding what’s got him. His hands fly to the knife trapped in the side of his throat. Bad idea, fucker.
I use the second I have while he is distracted to get rid of the rope completely and pull my gun out of the back of my jeans, shooting the motherfucking guard now standing inside of the den with his gun drawn. I get him right between the eyes, and he goes down like a sack of shit.
I flick my eyes back to Valentine. He’s fallen back over the coffee table clutching his neck, and now it’s my turn to smile like a deranged psycho.
Blood gurgles up and out of his mouth as he tries to talk. “You fucking little bitch,” is what I think he says, but it’s hard to tell with all the blood muffling the sound.
It’s quite a sight, and a sense of satisfaction washes over me. A slow death would have been more suitable for this fucker, maybe with Cruz carving some shit into his skin, removing his teeth one by one and amputating some digits. But that will have to stay in my file of Sloane’s sick thoughts for fucked-up motherfuckers, because today I was out of time to be creative.
I stand over him, my gun drawn just in case he decides to make some last attempt to kill me. But I don’t think he has it in him. He’s losing blood at an alarming rate. For me, this is one of the most satisfying sights I have ever seen. “Not every man wants an obedient little yes-girl following them around like a lost puppy. The good ones want a real woman. One who will stand up for what she believes in, who will do anything for the men she loves, even kill their psycho brother.” I huff out a laugh. “I warned you once not to fuck with me. I’m sorry, Valentine, you don’t get a second chance. Maybe you’re not as fucking smart as you thought.”
His eyes narrow in on me as he gargles some more, the disgusting sound echoing in the room. I guess he is trying to tell me something, but I have no clue what.
“Sorry, can’t hear you through the blood exploding from your mouth.” I watch him, waiting until he takes his last strained breath. Then I raise my gun and shoot him in the head, just to make sure this fucker will never be back to haunt me.
I hear what sounds like the sharp pop of gunfire, then another shot, and I sprint to the window, peering out. I find Onyx with his gun drawn, searching the perimeter of the building. Lower down on the rocks is Reef, also with his gun drawn. They made it here. Reef pulls the trigger, and a man goes flying off the cliff. Fuck, there are more of them out there. I need to go help them.
I move quickly back through the room, trying not to focus on my thumping headache. In my haste I run straight into the solid chest of someone. I stumble back, but he catches me by the arm.
“She’s in the den,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Orlando,” I whisper his name, so happy to see him.
He has dried blood that seems to have trickled down his face from where Valentine whacked him with the baseball bat and looks like something out of a horror movie. “Treasure.” He half smiles back, then he spots the scene behind me, and his eyes come back to mine, I think horrified.
Seeing him here and knowing they’re all on the island and I’m finally safe, the weight of it all crushes my body in a way I have never experienced before. I go limp in his arms, my legs giving way as I succumb to the exhaustion I have been battling since I woke up in that chair.
He scoops me up in his strong arms and hugs me closer to him, moving me over to the sofa where he softly places me down, still cradling me with his body. He assesses me, his finger trailing over every inch of my exposed skin, then his hand comes to my face gently. I flinch away in pain, not able to stand the way he’s looking at me. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.”
I stare up at him. His face is twisted in pain, a monstrous, purple bulge swelling on his head. “You kind of were,” I say, trying to keep it light.
He looks at me, puzzled. “I think we need to get that head injury seen to. And you need a change of clothes, you’re all wet.”
“I worked out the password to your secret weapons room.”
Now his lips turn up into a full grin. “Of course you did.”
Romeo moves into the room, with Onyx and Reef closely behind him. “The house is clean, every last fucker taken out.” He looks over his brother’s body. “I see we got here just in time.”
