AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Suck it,” he orders angrily.
I sit up straight and stare at him as I pull back my arm and jab the shard right into his thigh. I’m not sure if I hit anything that’ll kill him, but blood shoots everywhere, and he releases my hair.
“Suck it yourself,” I shout and yank my arm back again, stabbing that piece of broken lamp into his shoulder.
The next few minutes pass in a blur. I scoot back on my ass until I’m pressed against the wall under the window as three people rush into the room to answer his screams. In a flash, the room is silent as they take care of him, and I’m hugging my knees, rocking back and forth as jumbled thoughts dance through my mind.Is he dead? Did I kill him?
Now, will they kill me?
I look at the mess in the room. The blood. The shards are so enticingly sharp that I contemplate beating these motherfuckers to the punch and jabbing that same piece into my own neck.
I grab a jagged piece of glass, gripping it so tight my hand aches. It would be so easy to stab this piece of lamp into my neck or wrist until blood rushes out, hot and gushing until I fade away.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply, I push to my feet and creep to the door, twisting the knob, which surprises me when it opens. As quietly as I can, I twist it all the way and pull it open, taking one step out of the room. And then another. I walk faster, suddenly feeling invigorated, but just before I reach the stairs, a hand reaches out, gripping my arm and pulling me back. “Fuck.”
Whoever is behind me doesn’t say a word. Just tugs the same black hood over my head as they toss me back into the tiny dark closet. I let out a shaky sigh, wrapping my arms around my legs and resting my chin on my knees. I refuse to cry because I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop, and I can’t afford to break down just yet.
I have to find a way to get the fuck out of here before they come up with another way to torture me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Diesel
“All right,” Dix sighs, shaking his head with a grin. “As un-fucking-believable as it is, the load is totally safe and secure.”
“That is completely un-fucking-believable,” I shoot back. “You think they wanted us to come here?” It wouldn’t surprise me if either Bloodthirsty Devils or Latin Mafia—or both—were trying to set a trap for us, so I stay on point, keeping my head on a swivel in search of enemies.
Dix shrugs. “Fuck if I know, but what I do know is that the load is secure, and the driver Shades set up is going to make the drop before heading back to Morgan. He’s almost here in his own rig, and I’ll help him make the switch.”
I nod. “Sounds good.”
“Now that we have that handled, you know what it’s time to do.”
I nod, raking a hand through my hair. “The hospital is just on the other side of Santa Clarita.” That’s where the guy Cassidy shot isbeing held, and I need to talk to him, make him regret coming after her.
“Maybe,” he agrees. “But probably not.”
Dix nods. “I’ll be a few minutes behind you, maybe longer, depending on how long it takes this fucking driver.”
“See you there.” I jump back on my bike, leaving Dix on the side of the freeway as I rev the engine, going full throttle until the hospital comes into view. It’s a short drive from the freeway to the hospital, but damn, the parking lot is full. It looks like everyone and their mother chose today to visit sick loved ones.
I shrug out of mykutteand store it in my bike, squaring my shoulders as I face the hospital, strolling inside like I’m just like everyone else, here to see a loved one. Nobody stops me or even spares me a glance other than a few young nurses who give me a once over. I wander around, doing a damn good job—if I say so myself—of blending in and looking like a lost loved one.
“Excuse me, sir? You can’t just wander around the hospital.” A nurse speaks behind me in a soft voice and grabs my arm.
I turn slowly and smile. “Sorry,” I say like I’m in a rush. “My aunt called to say that my cousin was robbed and shot on the side of the road, and I don’t even know where to start looking for him.”
Her expression softens, and she tugs me toward the half-moon-shaped desk in the middle of the main floor. “We only have a few gunshot victims.” She drops a few names I don’t recognize, so I keep silent. “And then we have a John Doe we haven’t been able to identify.”
“That may be him,” I say quickly.
Her expression shifts to understanding. “I’m sorry to hear that. Room four-ninety-three,” she says with a smile. “You didn’t hear it from me.”
“From who?” I offer a smile of gratitude and leave to find the nearest stairwell. The fourth floor is buzzing with so much activity that no one notices me as I wander the halls searching for room four-ninety-three.
I turn the corner and find two cops, smiling and joking as they walk away, leaving the corner room completely unguarded. Their absence doesn’t mean another duo of cops isn’t coming, but it does mean that I have time. As soon as the elevator doors close on the cops, I slip inside the room.
The guy is lying still but clearly not dead, which is the first thing I notice. The second is his tattoos, specific to the Bloodthirsty Devils.
