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And worse.
Pieces click together in my brain. The sound that puzzled me a few seconds ago is now ominously clear.
One snake is curled at her feet. Another slithers from the edge of the chair. More snakes flop around and fight in a nearby plastic bin as they strive to be the next one freed. The next one to get the chance to bite.
There are multiple bite marks on her stomach. The surrounding skin has already begun to swell and turn an ugly color. Two more snakebites are visible on her forearm, the arm that isn’t cuffed.
My knowledge of snakes is limited. I remember hearing that one rattlesnake bite is easy to recover from with prompt medical treatment. But Haven has suffered a lot more than one bite.
She’s already struggling; breathing hard and trying to hold her head up.
How long can she live after being bitten so many times?
One of the snakes at her feet raises its ugly head. It rattles its tail and hisses, almost like it heard the desperate question in my mind and laughs because it knows the answer.
Haven doesn’t have long.
She blinks at me in confusion and shakes the cuff keeping her shackled. The two snakes on the floor get excited by the noise.
“Don’t move, baby,” I tell her.
Not only is movement likely to provoke the snakes but the more agitated she gets, the quicker the venom will course through her blood.
I’m not sure she heard me but she sits still.
Meanwhile, there’s a whole lot of less important shit kicking off all around me.
Greco the human cannonball landed on another man. The guy extricates himself from the dead weight and stumbles, trying to get his bearings, leaving Greco behind on the floor where he groans as his shoulder hangs at an unnatural angle.
A third man nervously trains a gun between me and my two cousins, who both point barrels back at him. He looks to the first man, the one who bore the brunt of the Greco attack.
I’ve never met these two in person but I know exactly who they are. The one who crawls out from underneath Greco, throws murderous glares this way beneath a fringe of light hair and wears ink all over his neck is Talon Marchenko. Jared Marchenko is slightly more polished, with slicked back hair and a dark suit that fails to make him respectable.
“Conner, you’re ruining everything,” Sophie complains.
Somehow I overlooked her but there she is, acting like I’ve just crashed her party. Don’t know what the fuck that’s about but she just earned a prime spot on my Most Hated list.
When I try to move closer to Haven, Jared aims his gun squarely at my chest.
“Do it,” he sneers, “and your football career won’t be the only thing that’s history.”
I don’t care if he shoots me.
I’m about to rush him and hope for the best when Gage catches my eye and gives me a small headshake, one that pleads‘Let me handle this.’
Gage is always better at making deals. Especially right now. His head is clear. Mine is ready to give the order to rip limbs out of sockets.
I trust Gage. I’d trust him with my life. I have to trust him with Haven’s too.
“Let her go,” Gage says to the Marchenko boys, “and this is over.”
Talon coughs and weaves on his feet. It looks like being crushed by Greco did some damage. Not enough though. He’s still breathing. He glances at Haven, tied to a chair and trying to remain conscious. A gruesome grin slices across his face.
“If she dies, neither one of you walk out of here,” Gage warns. “That’s a fucking promise.”
Jared sneers. “Yeah, I know who you are, Silvestro. Your dad might have been a beast but you smell like pussy.”
Gage seems to be considering the observation. Then he abruptly shoots at the floor. A snake that was coiled by Haven’s shoes blows apart into pieces. It’s a hell of a shot. The other snake slithers away.
