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“What’s going on?” My heart stills at the voice cutting through the air, my body stiffening in shock as I struggle to fucking breathe.
“Shut the door behind you, Shift,” Axel grunts, and my gaze drops to the wound once more.
“Yes, sirrr.”
I know that twang. That purposeful slur to the ‘r’. It only confirms my worst fears as I stand here surrounded by Ruthless Brothers.
Fuck.
I’m screwed, I’m totally fucking screwed.
Gulping hard, I clench my eyes shut, trying to relieve some of the tension radiating through my body, but it’s impossible.
Keep your head down and get this shit done, Scarlett. Then grab your fucking bag from your room and get your ass out of here.
I should have run to begin with. I fucking knew it, but I was blinded by the intrigue of the Ruthless Brothers. I was always called foolish, but this is the first time I’m seeing it in myself.
Taking another deep breath, I blink open my eyes and bring the damp cloth to Euro’s wound. He grunts at the pain, and someone offers him the bottle of liquor Maggie brought in.
The room goes quiet, everyone watching my every move, and I think I’m going to be sick.
I can’t be entirely sure that there are no fragments left behind, but I use the forceps from my kit to dig around a little, much to Euro’s discomfort, and come up with nothing, so I proceed to patch him up.
He doesn’t grumble at the stitches as I pinch both of the holes and thread them back together, before wrapping the bicep with bandages.
“You’re good,” I mutter, quickly packing away my things.
“Thanks,” Euro grunts, dropping down from the table.
“At least one of them has survived,” Gray states. I know from Emily that they lost Eric, her father, but there were more? Noticing my gaze, Gray shakes his head. “Our ambush was ambushed. We lost Eric and Becker.”
I was hoping the casualties at least came from a victory, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.
Searching out the blond Viking, I find him tapping away on his cell phone, lost in whatever he’s doing so he’s not giving much away.
I look back to Gray with a tight smile on my face. “I need to clean off.” I wave my blood-stained hands at him before grabbing my things. His brow furrows at my short, clipped words, but I really need to get the fuck out of here, ideally without the new guy noticing me.
“For sure. Do you need any help?” Gray offers, but I shake my head tersely, not offering a verbal response as I rush for the door, ripping it open despite wanting to keep a low profile.
I need to get out of here. I don’t know how or where, but I know one thing for sure.
I need to leave.
Right. Fucking. Now.
THIRTY-TWO
Scarlett
I doone final glance around the room, making sure I’ve left nothing behind before I toss my bag over my shoulder. It feels weird. I didn’t do a single thing to make this room my own, but seeing it without a few of my belongings scattered across the place makes me… sad?
Shit, I can’t be getting consumed with the most irrelevant fucking feelings right now. I need to stay focused and get the hell out of here.
Hiking my bag up my shoulder, I open the bedroom door and peek out, making sure the coast is clear before I step into the hallway and head for the door to the rear. I gulp heavily as I silently step outside, closing the door softly behind me.
I tuck my hand into the slight opening of my bag, feeling for the weapon I know is there. I don’t want to use it, but I will if I have to. I need to get out of here whether I like it or not. I got too comfortable and too damn foolish, but I didn’t expect my world to start to implode quite like this.
Pressing my back against the wall of the compound, I glance toward the garage and check for any club members lingering around. There are two at the gate, maybe a few more in the opposite direction coming down from the mess the Devil’s Brutes brought to them.
