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I can’t fucking wait.
Except I need to find Shawn before I do anything.
My father is still shooting, having the time of his life. I look at him from the corner of my eye and smile. He hasn’t had any club action in years. I know he hasn’t because he has no issue telling me how fucking bored he is.
When the last shot is fired, I leave them to do some cleanup and head straight for the back of the building. There is a metal shop back there, and I know that’s where Shawn is. I can feel it deep in my gut.
Instead of running the way I want to, I walk as quickly as I can, which, in reality, likely isn’t that fast right now. When I stop at the doorway, I push it open. I’m not sure what I expect to find, but it isn’t what I actually see.
There she is.
My woman.
My old lady.
She’s in a cage. Locked in a goddamn cage like a wild animal. I watch as she scrambles to the side and wraps her fingers around the bars, her eyes searching mine as she stares at me hopefully.
Before I realize what’s happening, a man rushes me, knocking me on my ass and the wind out of me. I cry out, my entire body burning and exploding with pain. He, without a doubt, popped a fucking stitch, if not every single fucking one of them.
She screams in the distance, and the asshole on top of me pulls his arm back, balls a fist, and slams it into the side of my face. He could probably kill me right here with little to no fight from me. Everything hurts, and it’s a pain that I’ve never felt before.
It’s excruciating.
Then I hear a voice. It’s a roar that hurts my ears. The pressure from the man’s body as he straddles my torso is gone. I look up, watching as he flies through the air. I know before he even comes into view that it is my father who’s doing this.
There is a single shot, and I know that the asshole is dead. Then I hear my father’s growl. It’s deep and vibrates off the metal walls of the shop around us. He doesn’t stop to ask me if I’m okay. He makes his way directly toward the cage.
Slowly, I try to lift myself so I’m sitting up. It hurts, but I force my body to move, and then I slump back against the wall to rest as I watch my father charge toward my woman. My woman who is locked in a goddamn cage.
He crouches down and rattles the door. “Don’t worry,” he murmurs. “I’m Elvis’s dad.”
He uses my name, which he never fucking does, but I like it for whatever reason right now. Shawn says something, but I can’t make out her words. They’re too soft, and if I’m not mistaken, I hear a roughness in her voice that I do not like. Almost like she hasn’t had enough to drink.
My father turns to me, his eyes finding mine, and then he growls, “Burn the whole fucking place to the ground, son.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
SHAWN
I’m not sure what happens, but when the handsome older man bends down in front of me, and my eyes meet his, I feel a calmness wash over me. He gives me a kind smile, then murmurs his next words.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs. “I’m Elvis’s dad.”
“Please help me,” I whisper.
Wetness fills my eyes, but the tears don’t fall. My bottom lip trembles as I stare at him, silently pleading for help. Any help at all. He dips his chin in a single nod, then turns and looks over his shoulder to where Elvis is sitting on the ground.
“Burn the whole fucking place to the ground, son.”
He stands and walks out of the building. I almost reach through the bars and call after him, but I don’t. My eyes find Elvis’s, and I suck in a breath at the sight of him. He looks like shit. He’s pale, his brows are snapped together and furrowed in pain. He doesn’t even make a move toward me.
Instead, he just stares at me.
“Elvis?” I ask on a whispered yell.
“You good, sweetness?” he asks, his voice so rough that I want to wrap my arms around him and ask him if he’s okay.
