Page 65 of Savage Sin

I hit the power button. The screen turns on and signals for a fingerprint.

“Anything?” One of the new men asks in the direction I left Rage.

“Yes.” I take Ghost’s limp hand and press his thumb to the screen. I pull up the contact list and see a name on there that has my finger tapping it.

“Speak fast, Ghost. You are the last person I want to hear from right now unless you found Rage.”

“I found Rage. Or he found me. It’s a long story. Ghost is dead.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

I wave a hand in the air like he can see me through the speaker. “That doesn’t matter right now. If you don’t get here, Rage will join Ghost in the unhappily ever after.”

A little dramatic? Maybe, but I need all hands on deck to make sure my family isn’t responsible for not only Rage’s brother’s death but his, too. I could not live with myself.

“I want a name.”

Fucking alpha men.

“Persephone Castel. Happy? Now, do you want to save all your alpha chest thumping for when we are face to face? Right now, I need help to save Rage’s life.”

“Where are you?”

I didn’t think this morning could get any worse. Fuck me, was I wrong. A few swipes and I drop the Savage president a pin on the map.

Now I wait, my fate in the hands of strangers.

Sixteen

Rage

Ihurt like a motherfucker.

One by one, my senses come back online. The scent of soap, disinfectant and I think fabric softer are the first to ping on my radar.

Someone bathed me. I don’t feel grimy or smell like smoke. I inhale. Too much. It might take several bathes to get rid of the stench. My lungs still burn and my throat is dry. Nothing a gallon of water won’t fix.

I grunt when I try to move my toes. I didn’t know those little fuckers could hurt so much.

Sounds like I’m a cyborg or some shit, but I swear to God I feel like I’ve had an out-of-body experience. Not a come to Jesus moment, more like some mad scientist had a field day poking around inside me before stitching me up.

I crack an eye to find I’m not alone.

Man, what I would give to sleep a year or two. Maybe I won’t hurt so damn much.

“He’s coming to.”

That’s Dragon. He’s to my right while someone is shifting on the bed beside me.

“Persi.” My throat feels like I’ve swallowed a pound of sand.

“What’s that, brother?”

A calloused hand links with mine. Ares. Fire rips through me when I try to roll and a set of hands on either shoulder pin me to whatever I’m laying on. It’s hard as a fucking slab of steel.

“Easy brother. You’re not moving for a while.”

Fuck that.

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