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“Grab his feet,” Ron’s companion said. I didn’t struggle as they hoisted me up. I needed to see.
Two guys—nope, there was the third one. He had lit a cigarette.
“Get your ass over here,” Ron complained. “Fucker is heavy.”
I didn’t try to help them, just went for dead weight. Ron stumbled, swearing as I collapsed into him. He went down, and his friend dropped my feet.
That was all I needed.
I’d been in a couple of yard fights in prison. They weren’t like the cage matches Liam favored or even a straight-up fistfight. They were open brawls. Killing people wasn’t always the goal; not all the inmates cared about that.
No, they cared about inflicting pain.
Right now, I had a lot of pain I wanted to inflict. Unfortunately, Ron wasn’t going to get near enough of it. Especially since I got my bound wrists around his neck and wrenched it, even as his friend came at me.
I ignored their blows where they struck me, bit into my flesh, or gouged at me. Fists together, I slammed them up into the second guy’s jaw. The crack of it was almost satisfying to me, and then the third guy was on me.
Easily my height and weight, he landed his blows with meaty fists that sucked all the breath out of me. We went down in the dirt, twisting, tumbling, and then he let out a harsh grunt as he came up with a knife.
I blocked the first blow, then the second, as we tumbled again. Twisting his grip, we fought for control of it, and then it sank into him, blood—his and mine—soaking my hands as I shoved it up under his ribs.
Once he collapsed, I shoved him off me and stumbled to my feet. It took me a minute to use the knife to try and cut through the heavy layer of rope.
Too long, I glanced over at the tampered earth as I finally slid one of the coils off, and as soon as it was loose, the rest fell away.
On my feet, I staggered toward the plot. Even sucking in air hurt, but I got one foot in front of the other. One of my legs buckled, and I hit my knees. Covering my side with a hand, I grimaced as blood poured between my fingers.
Fuck.
I didn’t think he’d gotten me with the knife.
Didn’t matter.
Ivy mattered.
Crawling, I barely made it to the dirt. Burrowing my fingers into the earth, I started digging. Spots danced in front of my eyes, but I had to get her out.
“Hang on,” I begged her even as my vision tunneled. “I’m coming, Ivy…”
Then everything went black.
* * *
