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CALLUM
It's the ultimate torture, sitting helplessly against the wall while blood runs out of you and everything goes quiet. The acrid odor of gunpowder fills my nostrils—that, and the coppery smell of blood. Gunshots ring out on the other end of the basement, and someone, somewhere, moans in pain. The sounds overlap until I'm sure my skull will crack.
“Bianca,” I whisper, but my voice is lost in the chaos echoing through the halls between rows of rooms like the one I just pulled her from. Seconds stretch out until they feel like hours, and every pump of my heart means more blood loss, but all I care about is her.
What did she do? Where did she go?
I lean over, wincing as I stretch, and finally close my fingers around my Glock, pulling it closer. Fuck this. I'm not waiting for him to kill her. She needs me, and I'd rather die protecting her than against this fucking wall. I'm halfway to my feet when all at once, my little bird appears in front of me. She's wide-eyed, her entire body trembling. Relief takes the strength out of my legs for a heartbeat, making me lean against the cinder block wall for support.
"What—”
She shakes her head, wrapping an arm around mine. “Dominic's down, but he's not dead. Just wounded. We need to move quickly.”
She's right. We should move, get out of here, and never look back. I have what I came here for, and she's in one piece. That needs to be enough, but somehow, it's not. Maybe it's because I read some of the messages he sent one of my crew detailing what he and his father planned to do with Bianca that makes me thirsty for revenge. How they were going to use her to milk me dry and convince me to sign over most of my businesses before either killing her or waiting for the baby's birth before selling them both on the black market.
Those messages are burned into my brain; now they're all I can see. “He needs to die.”
“No. We need to go. There will be another time for revenge.” She tries to pull me toward the back door I told her about earlier, but I round the corner she disappears behind to confront the man who joked about selling her.
He's holding the knife that still juts out from his stomach. She sank it up to the hilt.Good girl. My little bird is becoming a phoenix rising from the ashes of her suffering. I find the bastard panting, his skin a grisly white.
"You pathetic piece of shit.” I raise the gun, smiling down at him.
“Wait. Wait!” He holds up one blood-coated hand, pleading for the mercy he would never have extended to Bianca. Oh, how I want to savor this moment. I'd love nothing more than to drag this out, to keep him alive the way I did Kristoff. To torture him until he begs for the sweet release of death, only for me to keep him alive anyway, lingering on the invisible line between misery and oblivion until his heart can't take the strain anymore.
This isn't about anything as low-level as money. I wouldn't bother holding him for ransom. No amount of money, property, or power would be enough to save him from me. This is revenge.
“Dominic!” Gunshots ricochet ahead, and I shove Bianca behind me to protect her. There's only one man that voice could belong to.Jack.
“Dad!” Dominic whines. It's a pitiful sound. “Hurry! She fucking stabbed me, and he's going to shoot me.”
I should blow his brains out for the hell of it, and would if it wasn't for the bullet that whines past my ear. It brings me back to my senses in a hurry. There will be another time to end his pitiful existence, where I can draw it out and make it worthwhile. Right now Bianca is all that matters, her and the baby. Even my blood loss and how the world starts to go fuzzy and blurry around the edges don't matter half as much as getting her to safety.
“You got lucky, you son of a bitch,” I hiss an instant before another bullet passes me. This time, lodging in the cinder block above my head. I've already pressed my luck as far as it'll go.
“Let's go.” As always, my little bird cares more about me than herself. “You've already lost so much blood.”
“I've had worse,” I whisper, leading her to the door which opens to the rear of the building. I can't remember when, exactly, but this is not the time to split hairs. I hear Jack behind us, shouting at his son. And, for one blood-chilling moment, I imagine him coming after us rather than sticking to his son's side.
It's enough to make me cast a look over my shoulder, expecting to find Jack glaring at me in the fluorescent light flickering faintly overhead. It wouldn't surprise me to find him there, his gun aimed at my head.
“You fucking bitch!” he screams, his words bouncing off the unforgiving surfaces of the basement. “I should've ripped your fucking heart out, you cunt!”
“Don't!” she urges, pulling me by the arm. I didn't even realize until she did it that I faltered. As if my subconscious was about to turn me around and send me down the hall to paint the walls with the brains of both men the way Jack painted that crate with Amanda's brains and blood.
We burst outside together, the light from the rising sun paints the sky an array of pinks and oranges. I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful sunrise. Strange how that's the first thought that comes to mind. I might have lost more blood than I realized–my head feels heavy, and the black car waiting for us with its headlights on and doors open seems to be a million miles away.
“Boss!” I don't know who it is that calls out to me. I only know that one of my men catches me before my knees hit the ground.
“Get her… to the car…” I'm so fucking weak. She doesn't need to see me like this. It'll only make things worse. “Jack and Dominic are still in there. Dominic's wounded.” A second guard takes off at a run, his gun drawn. I doubt he'll catch up to them, but I hope that if he does, he shoots to maim rather than to kill. I want the pleasure of ending their pathetic lives myself.
“Callum?” Bianca's at my other side, clinging to me despite my blood staining her clothes and snow-white skin. “Don't you dare die on me. I didn't go through all of that just for you to die. Stay with me, please!!”
“Yes, ma'am.” A weak smile stirs my lips upward, and before I know it, I'm in the car. A groan of pain passes my lips, and I hate that I'm so weak I can't hold myself together.
Bianca tumbles in after me and presses her face to my shoulder. “Callum… oh, my God…” Anything else she tries to say is lost to her broken sobs, each so powerful they make her body heave against mine. I hate that she's crying and that I'm partially the cause of her pain.
“You're safe now. Everything is going to be okay.” Wrapping my left arm around her leaves my right hand free to press against the bullet wound on my side. The bleeding seems to have slowed but hasn't yet stopped.
