The agility I’ve spent years building is sluggish and barely there, and I can’t help but curse my body.
Ralph shoves me harder into the wall, rough brick scraping across my cheek and palms as I desperately try to escape his hold.
His fingers fist into the back of my hair a moment before he slams my head into the wall again, this time so hard black dots cloud my vision, and no matter how hard I try to find my way out of the darkness, it drags me under.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
RONAN
NOW
“Wake up!”
I’m startled from my dreamless sleep with a rough shake that almost sends me falling off the edge of the bed.
“Fuck off,” I grumble, reaching for a pillow to pull over my head. This better not be some drill Dad insists on us taking part in every few months. I’m in no fucking mood to deal with Salvatore and his paranoia right now.
The pillow is ripped from my hand before it gets anywhere near my face, and I’m shaken once again.
“Get the fuck out of bed, Ronan. It’s Chloe.”
Those words have me sitting up before they can finish forming.
Damon stands at the edge of the bed, his chest bare, but his eyes are free from the haze of sleep, telling me he’s been awake for a while.
Then I notice the dark marks beneath his eyes and wonder if he’s slept at all.
“What’s going on?” I ask, reaching for the sweatpants I keep beside the bed in case I need to be ready quickly.
“You have to go to Chloe. Now.” He’s frantic. Worried, almost. But that doesn’t make any sense because he’s adamant about his hatred of her. Even when I’ve seen through the lies, when he can’t quite hide the truth, he’s never looked this…scared.
Something’s wrong.
Something’s very fucking wrong.
I’m off the edge of the bed before I can continue to question my brother because the fact he’s scared is all I need to know.
I barely manage to pick up my gun on the way out of the room before I sprint down the stairs and across the house.
Every slap of my bare feet on tiled floors is too loud to my own ears, but I don’t slow. Not even for a second.
Because Chloe needs me, and I refuse to let her down again.
I’ve already failed her too often. I can’t do it again.
A guard gives me a confused look as I pass him, but I don’t pause.
Not until I’m bounding down the stairs to the cellar and sharp stone cuts into the bottom of my feet.
Chloe’s cell is halfway down the hallway, and when I notice the door open, my stomach bottoms out.
The cellar is silent aside from some rustling, and when I finally pause in the doorway with my gun raised, my stomach rolls with the need to purge.
Ralph stands over an unconscious Chloe, blood dripping down her pretty face as he tries to move her the way he wants her.
This motherfucker was going to rape her.
He came down here with the sole intention of violating what doesn’t belong to him, and that’s all I need to know for him to die.
