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“Unresponsive?” My voice is barely above a whisper. Abyss and Grim both nod.
“The metal sticking out… There’s no way… No, she can’t.” I’m talking in circles now.
The blood drains from Grim’s face, and Abyss’s head snaps up. “What did you say?”
“The a-a-accident,” I stammer, tears streaming down my face. “A piece of metal sticking out of her chest. There was so much blood.”
Abyss and Grim exchange a look I can’t decipher. Abyss takes a couple of deep breaths and returns his focus to digging glass out of my body and cleaning out the cuts and scrapes.
A few minutes have passed when the door slides open, and my parents come hobbling in. They’re leaning on each other for support, and Malice trails behind them.
“Violet!”
Mom scurries to my side and hugs me tight. I wince but manage to use one arm to hug her back. Dad squeezes my shoulder but says nothing.
Grim dislodges her and scowls. “Violet was in a car accident. She’s sore.”
Abyss translates when they simply stare at my husband in confusion. Then he points to two other beds. “You two go sit over there, and I’ll check you out next.”
Malice lifts his chin and addresses me. “You good?”
“I’m good.”
Malice quits talking and sticks to signing with a smirk on his face. “Douchebag is in the Confessional.”
Grim’s lips turn upward, and he looks… creepy. “We’ll head down as soon as Violet is done.”
“You can go. She’s ready.” Abyss moves aside so Grim can help me down.
I open my mouth to ask a question, but Malice puts his hand up to stop me and signs again. “This isn’t a conversation your parents need to hear.” I nod my head in understanding.
My parents swing their heads back and forth between all of us.
“What’s going on?” my dad asks.
“None of your fucking business!” Abyss yells.
“I have a right to know what’s going on with our daughter.” Dad’s voice quivers.
“You lost that fucking right when you sold her soul to Brad to save your own fucking ass,” Malice grits through his teeth. “She’sourfamily now.”
“Ours to protect,” Abyss adds.
My heart weeps with joy knowing that Abyss and Malice consider me family. Grim wraps his arm around my shoulders, leads me out of the room, and we walk back to the elevator.
“Where are we going?” I ask once we stop.
“You’ll see.”
We go down to a lower level, and I’m surprised. I didn’t know there was more to the clubhouse than what I’ve seen. When we step off the elevator, we walk down a long corridor before coming to a stop in front of a huge metal door. Grim takes several deep breaths and looks back and forth between me and the elevator as if trying to decide what to do.
I keep hold of his hand and squeeze it in encouragement. He lifts his hand and presses it against a sensor, and the door slides open. I’m too busy glancing around the room to notice the bloody heap on the floor until we’re standing over it.
Justin leans against a table and plays with a lighter, completely unfazed by the scene.
Brad’s out cold on the floor, his face almost unrecognizable, and chains are wrapped around his wrists. Grim bends over and picks him up like he weighs nothing and motions to Justin. I snap my head up when a grinding noise fills the room, and I watch with weird fascination as a large hook descends from the ceiling. Once it stops, Grim loops the chain around the hook and lets him hang.
Brad jolts awake once his arms are stretched above his head, and his feet are barely touching the floor. “What the fuck is going on?” he shouts. Then he spots me. “Violet, tell him to let me go.Now!”
