Page 45 of Lost King

"We take him with us," I tell him then step down onto the steps lowering myself into the ground. Nothing to protect me from a bullet I step forward after I take the last step down into the long rectangular bunker. The strong smell of urine is the first thing that hits me before my eyes adjust to the low lighting and take in the sight before me. He has the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun pressed against Quinn's head.

Jesus. My gut clenches seeing my brother this way. His head rolls from side to side. He's pale— no color to him whatsoever. Quinn is in bad shape.

"Put the gun down," Boulder jams the tip of the gun barrel against Quinn's head, "or I'll shoot the poor bastard and put him out of his misery while you watch," he sneers.

Keeping my rifle raised I stare down my scope. "He dies; You die," I warn him.

The Reaper bastard grins sealing his fate.

I pull the trigger.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Quinn

Thirty Minutes Prior

I feel like shit. I've been in and out of it for a while now. I can't make out if anything going on around me is real or a hallucination brought on by fever and the effects of the drug. Images continue to come in waves like someone is turning a TV screen on and off and I keep missing pieces of what's happening.

My eyes burn. My entire body feels heavy, and I'm drenched in sweat. The last thing I remember is screaming in pain before it all faded away to black. I take a shuddered shallow breath trying to clear my senses. Jesus, how much did they give me this time? Waking up from it feels different than before.

"Where the fuck is Twiggy?" I hear the loud voice of my captor, the President of Satans Reapers.

"He stepped out over an hour ago. Probably passed out somewhere high on that shit you been giving this piece of shit." I feel a boot kick my shin.

"You guys get out there and find his ass. I swear if he weren't useful in making us money with his drug and gang connections I'd kill him myself," he says with disdain.

It's not long after I hear the sounds of them climbing the steps and closing the door that everything fades away again.

Voices wake me up, but they sound distorted. Managing to lift my head I open my eyes. Prez? I see him standing several feet in front of me with the end of a rifle aimed in my direction.

It confuses me.

I keep my eyes open a second longer staring at the image of Jake trying to make out if he's real or not. That's when I hear a voice. Emerson's voice calling my name. It's so crisp I believe any moment I'll feel her lips press against mine, so I close my eyes—and wait. In the middle of all of this— in this moment, I make peace with whatever has happened, and whatever is about to happen. A strong sense of calm washes over me. It's going to be okay. I'm going to be okay.

Present

What the hell is up with the constant bursts of bright lights. "Calm down, Quinn. Gabriel, get over here and hold him still. Watch his hands. Those fuckers left the needles in his fingers. I can't remove them until we get him to the clubhouse."

Doc?

I feel my body vibrate and sway from side to side, almost as if I'm in a moving vehicle again. The Satans Reapers must have decided to either move location or find a place to get rid of me once and for all. A sharp, massive pain in my chest causes me to fight my way out of the darkness, and I blink a few times before I'm able to focus in on a face looming over me. "Fuck," I go to reach for my chest but can't lift my arm. My eyes feel heavy and keeping them open becomes a challenge.

"Quinn, wake up."

I feel the pain in my chest again.

"Just kill me motherfuckers," I roar. My body aches. I'm tired. I'm done. I have no more strength to fight off whatever else they have planned for me.

Suddenly, background noise fills with the sound of tires skidding along the gravel. "Estás seguro, hermano. You're safe, brother; Estás en casa. You're home," I hear Gabriel's voice though it sounds muffled and far away.

Home? Straining to gather every ounce of energy my body has left, I lift my eyelids once more and take in Gabriel's face staring down at me. "You gonna kiss me already, Prince Charming?"

His head shakes from side to side, but a rare grin accompanies his reaction.

"Let's move. Get him downstairs," Logan orders. Once they lift me, my defeated body becomes weightless as my brothers carry me towards the clubhouse door.

"Let me pass. Is that my son?" The desperate sound of my mom's voice pleading with someone upstairs rings out followed by Emerson crying out my name and piercing my soul. "Quinn?"