I shake my head, fear rendering me mute.

A fist lashes out, smashing into my cheek. My head snaps to the side, blood pooling in my mouth I fall back into the seat and I brace for the next hit as I slip back into the role of Natasha Blackwood—abused wife of a mobster.

24

Nox

The pain spreading through my shoulder is nothing compared to the agony of seeing Lucy bundled into that car and driven away. I reach for her, trying to follow the vehicle as it peels out of there, even though I can hardly move because of the fire licking across my shoulder. A bullet skims past me, embedding in the tarmac behind me with a thud, but I don’t care. My only focus is on Lucy.

“Nox, move!” Daimon’s voice cracks through the gunfire, but I ignore it.

Lucy is gone. Isaac took her and my soul is shredding into a million pieces. My tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth as all moisture flees. My last image of her was her terrified eyes before she was dragged away by that prick, Leon.

“Move, fucker!”

Arms snake under my armpits, wrapping around my chest and then I’m dragged back, scraping my jeans and boots along the ground. I don’t give a fuck about a few new scuffs. I care about saving my fucking woman. I try to fight against the hold. I can already feel the blood seeping into my tee.

Daimon drags me to the wall of the security booth and props me against it. He ducks down just as a bullet whizzes past his head. Fuck, that was close and I realise suddenly the danger I put my brothers in.

“Sorry,” I mutter, but he doesn’t hear me as he fires off a couple of rounds in the direction of the gate before he ducks back down.

Day’s mouth pulls into a tight line as he reaches for my right hand. Without apology, he presses my palm to my bicep. I can’t stop the groan from escaping my mouth as pain flares through my entire left arm.

“Don’t fucking let go,” he yells at me before he rises from his hiding place and fires off several more rounds.

It sounds like a war zone out there and I want to help my brothers, but my head is pounding in time with the pumping of my blood from the wound. I peer down at it, seeing it bubbling between my fingers, dripping down the back of my hand and sliding down my wrist. It’s bright red, vibrant, ugly. I’ve seen my share of blood over the years, but it’s been a while since I last saw my own.

“Where’s Prez?” I demand.

“Fury’s got him safe.”

At least that’s something. I let my head fall back against the wall, feeling dread claw its way through my body. Lucy’s gone. Isaac Blackwood has her and there’s fucking nothing I can do about it.

“She’s gone.”

Daimon peers down at me, his brows drawing together. “Fuck, brother, we’ll worry about Lucy when we survive this shit.”

Desolation washes over me and empty numbness starts to spread through me. I failed her.

The firing peters out and I hear shouting from my other brothers as the sound of squealing rubber fills the air.

Rav is suddenly in front of me, his huge beard taking up most of my vision.

“Fuck! Get him inside, now! Whizz—”

“On it, Prez.”

I’m hoisted up by Day and Fury who appear from behind Rav. I brush them off as soon as I get to my feet, not wanting to look like a pussy.

“I can stand.”

I might be overstating things, but I manage to keep my feet, even though my legs feel shaky.

“Stubborn fucker,” he mutters. I can’t argue with that. I am, but he’d be the same.

My shoulder is on fire, and by the time I reach the small room Whizz uses as a makeshift hospital, a thin sheen of sweat is covering my face and I’m shaky.

The coppery smell of my blood mixes with the scent of antiseptics as I step inside the room. Whizz brushes his blond hair out of his face as he orders me to get on the bed.

For once, I do as I’m told, sitting on the edge of it, my left arm hanging at my side like a limp noodle. Now my adrenaline is starting to die back, the pain is making itself known.

Whizz is in full doctor mode as he ushers everyone from the room but Rav then moves over to the bed. He helps me out of my kutte and then cuts off my tee, leaving me sitting in just my jeans and boots. My blood has mixed with the tattoos that span my left arm, smeared over the inked-up skin like a spilt ink pot.

I take a shaky breath as Whizz snaps on a pair of latex gloves.

“We need to go after her,” I tell Rav.

He’s standing against the wall, his arms folded over his broad chest, eyeing my wound like an irate bear.

“You got shot.”

“I know.”

“You’re bleeding like a pig.”

“I know,” I grit my teeth, my frustration flaring to life. What the fuck is his point?

“So, take a moment to get patched up. Then we’ll worry about Lucy.”

Time might not be a luxury she has. I have no idea what Isaac Blackwood will do to her and that makes my stomach roll. If he harms one hair on her fucking head, I’ll gut him. I don’t give a fuck if it starts a full-blown war. Blackwood already lit the first flames when he fucking shot me.

“I’m worried about Lucy now. Blackwood ain’t exactly well rounded. We should be following her.”

Whizz pushes me back onto the bed.

“Sit your arse down. You can’t do shit if you’re bleeding out, can you?”

I scowl, irritated that he’s right, and frustrated by the inaction.

“We know where he’s going,” Rav says. “We’ll get her back.”

In what condition. That’s my worry.

25

Lucy

The drive up to the house has my skin crawling. It’s as ostentatious as I remember and while it should represent freedom, all I see is a cage, trying to keep me locked away. The building is huge, whitewashed with numerous latticed windows on the front and two large columns holding up the roof over the doorway. The circular driveway is filled with sleek black cars that are parked neatly, giving us enough space to move past them and pull up outside the double front doors.

Isaac climbs out of the car as soon as it stops and he drags me to the edge of the seat before tugging me out.

I stumble out of the car door, falling onto the gravel and I throw my hands out to protect my fall. Sharp edges slice through my palms and I can’t stop the gasp of pain that escapes from my mouth as old fears arise, tumbling in my belly as Isaac grabs me by my nape, pulling me to my feet like I weigh nothing.

His grip on the back of my neck has my shoulders moving up to my ears, as if I can protect myself. When he finally releases me, I let my shoulders relax and I peer up at the house. Ice settles in my gut as I get closer to it, fear dancing along my spine. This is the last place I want to be. It’s the last place I thought I would ever be again. Memories of the past assault my mind, making my hands tremble as my dread claws its way up my spine.

Isaac’s heat burns through my skin, and his grip is iron-clad as he tugs me towards the house. I shuffle after him, shock of what is happening making my legs leaden, my movements sloppy. I have no idea what will happen when we get behind those doors, but the roiling of my stomach tells me instinctively it will not be good. He’s already hurt me. The throb in my cheek matches the frantic pounding of my heart, and my lip is swollen, blood trickling down my chin onto my t-shirt like bloody rain. I can feel the skin tightening over my bones, hot and stretched as my cheek swells. I will have to look the devil in the eye and beg his forgiveness. I also know that forgiveness will not be granted.