AllFreeNovel
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I’ve had the crap beaten out of me before. It happens when you just can’t care about your personal safety. I’ve gotten into plenty of arguments before, not only at the gym but with people involved in my cases, suspects I’ve interviewed who don’t take kindly to me getting in their faces.
I’ve run after suspects on the street and tackled them, only to have them turn around and retaliate.
Nothing compares to what I just endured.
Being beaten by Gabriel and his boss is in a league of its own. Broderick’s ham-handed fists are lethal. He knows exactly where to hit to inflict the most damage with the least amount of effort on his part. I’d fare better being punched with a fucking piece of marble. At least Gabriel pulled his punches—I think—but only by a tiny fraction. Had to be convincing, right? Yeah, my aching ribs disagree.
I jerk, my muscles spasming as my entire system fights against the need to shut down. I’m distantly aware of the voices around me, before the sound of footsteps fade as they walk toward the exit. Broderick Stevens, the leader of the Black Market Syndicate…
What cop wouldn’t give their badge for a shot at bringing him down?
He had me here, stared at me like I was an ant trapped beneath a magnifying glass.
Yet as terrifying a picture as he presents, he left me behind with his favorite reaper, struggling against the stars dancing behind my closed eyes. All Gabriel’s talk about a safe word…would he have actually stopped if I’d tried to say anything? Doubtful.
Sucking in deep breaths that leave my nose burning and my ribs feeling like hot pokers, I twitch, stretching my fingers, my arms. And unless I miss my guess, my right wrist is moving more than it was before. It’s almost like the rope—
It’s no mistake. The rope is loose. Somewhere along the line the knot must have come undone. I squirm, jerking and shifting under the binds. My body refuses to cooperate with me and then I move the wrong way, the pain blinding. Bruised ribs. I know the feeling. Hopefully nothing is broken.
If not, it’s a small miracle and at this point I have to take what I can get.
The only thing broken here is my fucking pride for trusting someone I knew better than to involve myself with in the first place. Something in my chest tightens and I refuse to believe it has anything to do with my heart. Because I don’t get attached to men.Ever. Especially not assholes like Gabriel who show their true colors when it’s least expected.
The next wave of fire in my torso steals the air out of my lungs but I manage to get my wrist free.
Or at least the knot loosened. A glance up at Gabriel reveals him staring in the direction the men had gone. I pivot the chair as slowly as possible to not make noise as I reach for the tie around my left wrist, then both ankles.
There has to be something close by that I can use to defend myself.
From him.
From the only man I’ve ever—
No. Distractions, it’s only distractions to mentally punish myself more.
He’ll be fucking sorry for this.
The bindings loosen completely and I hold back a groan. Clint has to have another piece on him somewhere. I’m sure of it. None of us goes around without at least one hidden sidearm. Where would he have stashed it? If I can get to him, if I can somehow find it, it will be a small nugget of power in my favor.
I scoot closer to the body and grit my teeth against a swell of agony. Car doors slam outside. I hope Gabriel is distracted. He’s listening intently, it appears, and then comes the sound of engines revving, then fading into the distance.
What am I waiting for? I should have used the noise to mask any I might make. Maybe there’s still time—
A quick glance at him shows he’s turned back around, his eyes on me. He doesn’t say anything.
He only bends to grab Clint beneath the arms and slide the body across the warehouse, around a pillar and out of sight, where I most definitely can’t reach it.
The room tilts, wavering like heat rays in the distance. I’m trying not to move when he comes back. I can’t give anything away to let him know that I’m free of my bonds, so I grip the chair hard while he pulls the chair back to its upright position with me in it.
Gabriel slides a hand across my face, pushing hair out of my eyes with a tender touch. He drags the fabric away from my mouth and I catch a glimpse of it, soaked in my blood.
“Did you enjoy the show?” I ask him. My split lip pulses painfully with each movement. “I’m not sure if you like fucking or killing more. Which one is your favorite? I’d love to know.”
His silence enrages me.
“If you don’t—”
“Shut up, Layla,” he grunts. He runs a hand over his face, the annoying superiority back in his tone. “Just shut up. Okay?”
