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He tightens the last cuff around my leg. “I can’t. If I fail Declan, what he’ll do to me is much worse.”
Logan grabs my face, forcing me to look at him, except my eyes can’t focus because there are currently four of him. “You try that shit again, and I will fucking kill you.”
He throws my face to the side before storming out of the room without another word, locking the door behind him.
I almost fucking had it. I was right there.
I let out a yell loud enough it could shake the foundation of this shitty cabin. Not that it matters. There’s no one around to hear me.
I can feel sleep try to take hold of me as I continue to sob into the empty room, likely passing out from a concussion or blood loss. I don’t fight sleep for the first time since we got here. I know now that Logan won’t touch me anymore. The only reason he was doing it before was to make me uncomfortable, and it fucking worked. Instead, I let sleep wash over me. At least when I’m asleep, I can dream about them. I can dream about the way I felt safe when I was in their arms. I can dream about the way I loved them.
“Just wait, Harp. Get some rest and wait. I just have to hold out until they come for me. They’ll find me. They’ll find me, and I’ll be safe. Declan won’t get to keep me.” I repeat it over and over, spinning Ronan’s ring as I do until I finally drift off to sleep.
8
Mac
Two Weeks Later
Red.
That’s all I see every day, all day long. Since they took Harper, it’s been nothing but red.
Red from the uncontrollable fury coursing through my veins. Red from watching my brothers, my best friends, unravel right along with me. Red from the blood of every person who has gotten in my way. But I can’t let myself feel any of it. If I do, I’ll collapse into nothing. Because that’s what I am without her.
Nothing.
Today, we finally got a lead. After fifteen agonizing days, Finn and Sebastian finally found something, and just for a moment, the red started to fade. Now it’s back in full force, though, as I listen to the sound of Dante’s fist split open this motherfucker’s nose.
Early this morning, Sebastian and Finn were finally able to track one of Declan’s bank transactions to a low-level gang that works out of Mott Haven in The Bronx, one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the city. Sebastian was able to figure out where the guy, Tony, lived in a matter of minutes. In no time at all, the six of us, with Sebastian staying back at the apartment to monitor surrounding security cameras and keep an eye out for any facial recognition on Harper, were out in front of Tony’s run-down house. Ronan, Finn, Luca, and Enzo are posted in surrounding buildings, ensuring no other gang members or police officers interrupt our mission. Dante and I had no idea how many people were in the building, and to be honest, we didn’t give a fuck. Between the two of us, we knew we could handle whatever was going on inside.
Over the last two weeks, Dante has more than proven himself. He can handle any weapon you put in his hands, and the guy is built like a brick shithouse. He also doesn’t say much, which is more than okay with me right now. The last thing I need is someone constantly checking in with me and asking if I’m okay. Because I am not fucking okay, and if I talk about it for even a minute, I’ll fall apart.
Thankfully, only five people were inside the house: Tony and four of his men. It only took a couple of minutes for Dante and I to round them up and move them to the kitchen, where they were all sitting on the floor. Correction, four of them are dead, lying in pools of their blood, and Tony is sitting on the floor crying like a little bitch next to them. For someone who “runs” a gang, all it took was a couple of hits to the face before he started crying.
Pathetic.
Once we had them all confined to the kitchen, we sent Sebastian pictures of their faces so he could run facial recognition. It only took him a few moments to figure out who they were, each of their rap sheets a mile long. As soon as I found out that none of them had any family or children that would need our help, it was lights out.
Dante rears his gigantic boot back and kicks Tony right in the stomach.
“Please, just tell me what the fuck you want!” Tony screams, tears, snot, and blood running down his face.
Usually, I am far more patient with the people we interrogate, waiting until Ronan or Finn gives me the go-ahead to use my specific set of skills. However, I think it’s safe to say we’ve all been feeling a little less generous lately.
Dante looks at me, waiting to see if I’m finally ready to ask Tony what I want to. I nod, and he takes a step back as I take a step forward. I squat down and grab a fistful of Tony’s hair, forcing him to look at me. “You know who I am?”
“Y–yes. I know who you are.”
“Good, then you know that if you don’t answer my next three questions very carefully, I will not hesitate to end your miserable excuse of a life.”
I let go of his hair as he nods his head frantically. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“One,” I hold up my pointer finger. “Do you know who this is?” I hold up Logan’s picture on my phone.
“Yeah, L–Logan, right?” I nod. “I only met him once. Like three weeks ago.”
“Two,” I tuck my phone back into my pocket and hold up another finger. “What did you meet him for?”
