Vow of Sacrifice

by Emma Renshaw

  “That’s the house up there,” Luca murmurs. He shuts off the lights for his car and points at the towering monstrosity in front of us. I pull on the handle, launching myself out of the car, ignoring Luca’s protests and head straight up to Iris’s prison.

  Chapter 34

  Iris

  Pierce saunters toward me. I crawl back on the bed, shoving my back against the wooden headboard. Pain ricochets through my bones and muscles when my back meets the unyielding piece of wood.

  He sits on the edge of the bed, grabbing my left hand and running his fingers over my rings. I tug my hand away, and he grabs my wrist and twists my arm.

  “You never take away something I want from me. If I want to admire the rings on your fingers, I will. If I want you back, I will have you. I gave you everything. And, you found another man? I gave you time. Until you found another man like the whore you are. This can go one of two ways. Either you’ll be mine or you’ll wind up in that box, I’ll ship you across the world as a prize for the men I deal with.”

  Pierce’s hand wraps around my neck, choking me. If I weren’t bound in handcuffs, I’d know what to do. Because of Callan, because he’s been trying to save me from the very beginning. Because of the friends he brought into my life and the exercises he insisted I do, I would be able to get out of this. Unfortunately, Roman, James, and Kiernan didn’t teach me how to break free from wool-lined cuffs attached to heavy steel chains.

  “No.” I promised Callan I would live. I won’t go down without a fight. “No,” I hiss again. “I’ll never be yours. I never was yours. I’m not your victim.”

  Pierce leans into my face, kissing me harshly. I try to turn away, but he’s gripping my neck too tightly; I can’t move or turn my face. He’s got me right where he wants me. When his tongue forces its way into my mouth, I bite down hard.

  Pierce rears back and his fist lands against the side of my jaw. My head is wrenched to the side by his thumb and forefinger on my chin.

  “You’ll fucking pay for that,” he promises as he pulls a knife from the bedside drawer and stabs me in my upper side. A burning and stinging pain fills my limbs and each breath becomes harder to breathe.

  “Fuck you,” I hiss.

  “Using curse words now, are we? Is that from the trash company you’ve been keeping?”

  “It’s deserved. Callan is more of a man than you’ll ever be.” I know that this will earn me another punishment, but I’ll never shy away from him again. Pierce will never force me back into the shadows and darkness. My chest shakes as I suck in a rattling breath.

  Pierce lets go of the knife still lodged in my side and his large hand wraps around my throat again, and he slaps my face with his other hand before pointing a finger in my face. “Never say his name in our bed.”

  “There is no our. We’re over. I left you. You no longer have me. Callan. Callan. Callan.” I repeat his name over and over, getting louder each time until my throat is starting to turn raw from the force of my voice.

  Pierce yanks out the knife, raising it above his head as I continue to scream the name of the man I love, and he brings it down with all his force as it plants in my thigh. Callan’s name turns into a pained scream.

  “I’ll have you until your dying breath.” Pierce squeezes my neck even tighter. He pulls a gun from the back of his jeans, pointing it between my eyes. “Too bad that will come sooner than I hoped.”

  I tremble and my eyes cross, staring at the barrel. It’s all I can see. The black shiny metal of the gun. I whisper Callan’s name as I stare into Pierce’s eyes. If I leave this world, I want his name to be the last one on my lips.

  “Behave,” Pierce hisses. He drops the gun on the nightstand and rakes his hand splattered with my blood through his perfectly coiffed hair. “Things are going to be different this time. If you would’ve learned from your mistakes, life would’ve been easier.”

  I scoff and sneer. “You’re a monster.”

  “You love me,” Pierce says.

  “I never loved you. I know that now. You’re worthless.”

  Pierce punches me in my side where he stabbed me. The pain radiates through my stomach and steals the breath from my lungs. I never fought back. I never screamed. I never said anything. I was too scared.

  I’m not now.

  “Does that make you feel like a man? Beating someone tied up? Beating someone with stab wounds? You’re nothing.”

  Pierce’s fist lands on my nose. Blood seeps out, coating my lips and chin. The back of my head hits the headboard.

  “I hate you,” I hiss.

  Pierce roars, punching me over and over. He’s so lost in beating me and screaming at me, he doesn’t hear the creak from the third step on the staircase.

  I smile because I do.

  Chapter 35

  Callan

  Iris’s cry of pain makes my feet move faster up the stairs. Luca is two steps behind me speeding forward just as fast as I am. Luca grabs my arm halfway up the stairs and hisses. “Take this.”

  He plants a black gun in my hands. It’s been years since I felt the cool and heavy metal of a gun in my palm. I continue running up the stairs and aim the gun in front of me. Iris’s pain-filled whimpers are getting closer and the sound of flesh meeting flesh is getting louder.

  I burst through the door and the fuse of my rage ignites, setting off a bomb. A roar rips from my lips. “Get the fuck off of her.”

  I aim the gun at his head.

  He spins with a gun in his hand, pointing it at me. Then the bastard fucking smiles before he takes a shot. I fire at the same time.

  His bullet lands in the wood two inches from my head, and mine lands between his eyes.

  Chapter 36

  Callan

  I hold the wound on Iris’s side and thigh as we wait for the ambulance. She’s unconscious and her breathing is too shallow to be normal. It’s light and barely there, but it fills the silent room like a tornado siren. I add more pressure to my hold and pray for the second time tonight.

  Luca doesn’t say anything. He leans against the wall as we wait for the ambulance and police sirens to fill the quiet neighborhood.

  “Hold on, birdie,” I whisper when I catch the first siren. “Just another minute. You’re okay, baby. You’re going to be okay. It’s over. I’m so proud of you. So fucking proud.”

  By the time Iris is loaded into the ambulance my shirt is soaked with her blood. There’s traces on my hands and arms. I force my way into the back of the ambulance, unable to let Iris out of my sight.

  Luca stays behind with the police. I know they’ll have questions for me later, but I only care about the work the medics are doing in front of me.

  I collapse to my knees when she’s rushed back into the hospital through doors that I can’t go through. I don’t even flinch when hands wind their way underneath my armpits and yank me into a standing position.

  “She’ll be okay,” James says. “Luca called. I called everyone else.”

  James drags me to the chairs, but I don’t take my eyes off the door that Iris went through. Maybe my praying was useless. Maybe this is what is supposed to happen. Maybe I was supposed to be taunted with the goodness of Iris, only to have her yanked away from me.

  Each time I blink or close my eyes, I see her on the bed with light sheets stained with her blood. Her bruised, battered, and swollen face is like a brand on my brain. Her blood that soaked my hands is like acid against my skin.

  Tate stands to the side of my chair, but doesn’t block my view. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Iris won’t want to see this when she wakes up.” I shake off the hand on my shoulder and stare at the door.

  One by one the rest of my friends, sister, Carmen, and Luca pile into the waiting room. The police arrive, too. They take my statement. All while I never take my eyes from the double doors.

  “The only reason I’m talking to you right now is because you saved both of the most important people in my life,” I say through gritted teeth. “I do
n’t have time for your shit. Tell me what you need.”

  James stands next to me with his arms crossed over his chest. Iris has been out surgery to repair the damage to her lung for almost two hours. The blade of the knife caused her lung to collapse, but the stab to her thigh missed the artery. She has contusions all over her body. The doctors expect her to sleep for some time before she wakes up.

  I’m not willing to leave her side though, so I summoned James and Luca to her room. My hand is wrapped her smaller one, one of the only places she isn’t hurt or broken. I swallow the bile that rises every time I think about the fact that her small hands and feet are pretty much the only unharmed parts of her.

  Even if she was to wake up right now and open her eyes, she’d barely be able to see because of how swollen her eyes are.

  “If I had any other choice, I would use it,” Luca says quietly. “I’ve hated the life I was born into for as long as I can remember.”

  I grit my teeth and suppress the urge to tell him to get on with it. I want to know the debt and that’s it. Then I want him gone.

  “Could’ve fooled me,” James mumbles.

  “If I don’t play my roll, I would be tortured. I learned that lesson when I was fucking five years old.”

  That information doesn’t surprise me, but I am surprised that Luca hates what he was born into. He never showed it.

  “Both of you got out and I need out.” He licks his lips and squeezes the back of his neck. When he glances at us again, his eyes hard and angry. “If you use what I’m about to tell you against me—I’ll gut you.”

  James snorts. “Just say it.”

  “Sometimes I sneak away without any of my father’s men following me. One of those times…I met someone. She’s…innocent. Too good for that life.”

  I glance at Iris again. I know that feeling. I never would’ve approached Iris if we were in Chicago. I would be able to tell with one glance that she should never be tainted with that kind of ugly.

  “She’s pregnant,” Luca whispers.

  “Fuck,” James mutters.

  Suddenly Luca’s need to leave that life behind makes sense. My gaze travels to Iris’s body. To her belly. The belly that’s about to swell with my child. One she doesn’t even know about yet.

  Baby Caden could’ve knocked me over with a finger when the doctor reassured me our baby survived the trauma. I place one of my hands on Iris’s stomach before looking to Luca.

  “We’ll get you out,” I promise.

  Chapter 37

  Iris

  A rhythmic pulse slowly works its way into my consciousness. My body is numb except for my scratchy throat.

  Water.

  I want some water. I try to open my eyes, but they don’t open fully, only enough to see the speckled ceiling tiles of my hospital room. The last thing I remember is Pierce’s fist sailing toward my face before everything went black. My fingers twitch against the sheets and I sigh in relief when I feel scratchy, hospital-grade bedding.

  My first thought was right. I’m in a hospital. I scan my eyes over the room—moving from the ceiling to the monitors to the man resting his head on the hospital bed. I twitch the fingers that are wrapped in his large hand.

  Callan immediately jolts and stands to hover over me. His hand comes up to the side of my face, millimeters away, but not touching me. I can feel the heat of his though. I tilt my face so my skin will touch his. As soon as it makes contact, the numb medicated feeling I had subsides and a sharp stab of pain pulses in my cheek.

  “Iris,” Callan whispers. “Birdie. Fuck. You scared me.”

  I lick my dry lips and wince.

  “It’s going to hurt for awhile. Do you want some water?”

  “Yes,” I say. He holds a cup to my lips and I take a small sip through the straw. The cool liquid burns my throat on the way down. “What happened?”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Everything until I passed out during his beating,” I reply.

  Callan drops his head and pulls in a shaky breath. “Luca helped me find you and I killed him. I got a call from Maddox about an hour ago, it was officially ruled as self defense. He’s gone, Iris. You’ll never have to worry about him again, birdie.”

  My chin quivers and a tear leaks out the side of my eye. It really is over. It’s over. I let those thoughts wash over me as Callan squeezes my hand.

  “You’re really hurt though,” Callan says. “I wish I found you before he touched you.”

  I shake my head softly. “No,” I whisper. “Stop that.”

  Callan’s head dips again, resting against my belly. “It could’ve been so much worse.”

  “But, it wasn’t.”

  “I’m going to call the doctor in so he can explain all your injuries, but there’s one thing I want to tell you first.”

  “What?”

  Callan’s lip tips up on one side and amusement lights his eyes. “Okay, maybe a few things.”

  His fingers brush over my hair and his eyes flit all over my face. “First, I love you. I love you, Iris. I fucking love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I croak. “You kept me alive. You kept me fighting. I didn’t go to the shadows.”

  “Second, you need to make me an honest man. I’ve been telling the doctors and nurses you’re my fiancée.”

  I chuckle, but stop because the pain becomes too much.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry. Don’t laugh. I wish I could take this from you. I hate that you have to go through this.”

  “Last time in my life,” I whisper. “I can make it through.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Callan whispers. He kisses the palm of my hand and then drops to his knee beside my hospital bed. “I’ve known I wanted to spend my life with you, but haven’t had a chance to plan something. Didn’t think it would be next to a hospital bed though.”

  I chuckle. “Ow.”

  “I’m sorry, birdie.”

  “Stop being so cute, foxy.”

  Callan grins and squeezes my hand as he plants a kiss on the inside of my wrist. “I want to spend my life standing by your side because with you there, there won’t be any dark days. We can weather anything. I want you to persuade me to do things you want while you lay naked and on top of me, just because that’s where I want you to be. Don’t make a liar out of me. Some of the nurses would be really disappointed if they found out we aren’t engaged.”

  “Yes,” I say. Tears spill out of my eyes and for the first time in my life, they’re not from sadness or pain, but because my heart is full and happy. Callan stands and drops the softest kiss against my swollen lips.

  “We’ll celebrate properly when you’re healed,” he promises. “The last thing is fun because it’s never the guy surprising the woman and it’s a good thing you said yes because I need to make an honest woman out of you.”

  Callan pauses and my brow wrinkles.

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “What?” I shriek, or at least try to shriek.

  “That’s about as shocked as I was when the doctor assured me that our baby survived the trauma.”

  “Oh my god,” I whisper placing my free hand on her belly. Callan covers it with his own.

  “I swear. The little guy is okay.”

  “It might be a girl,” I whisper as a new wave of happy tears hits my eyes.

  Callan’s eyes close. “Shit. I swear I’d be happy with anything, but I don’t think I can handle raising another girl.”

  My knuckles drag along his stubble-cover cheek. “She would have you wrapped around her finger before she wailed her first cry.”

  “Exactly,” Callan says and smiles. “I can’t say no to you or Brae. A third girl in my life wouldn’t be fair.”

  “A third girl in your life?”

  Callan and I turn our gaze toward the door. Brae is front in center with Corbin behind her. James, Tate, Savannah, Liam, Harper, Roman, Kieran, Hudson, Ava, Carmen, Arnie, Valerie, and Gabe are behind them wearing the same shocked exp
ression.

  “Are you pregnant?” Harper asks.

  I nod and smile the hugest smile I can manage without crumpling in pain.

  “I’m going to be an aunt?” Brae whispers and comes into the room with the rest of the gang following her. My bed is surrounded by the people closest to me. Their happy chatter fills my ears and works as a natural pain reliever.

  I look at the ceiling and rub my chest, above my heart. The pain is ebbing and warmth is radiating so hot, my heart is about to burst. Two years ago, Grams whispered in my head that I had to leave I would die.

  Today I hear her again.

  Live, my girl. Live.

  Epilogue

  Iris

  Pancakes.

  It’s hot. I fan myself and blow out a breath. I wince as the pain stabs through my back. Another breath in through my nose and out through my mouth.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Ava asks as she crouches down in front of me. My lip curls as I stare at her tiny baby bump belly. She’s only a few months along and can still move.

  Meanwhile, it takes a crane to move me around. My body is molded to the couch and I’m not sure how I’ll manage to stand in the next few minutes to walk down the aisle. I’m not sure the women can lift me. Callan has to get me in and out of chairs these days. And, there’s still two weeks left of this pregnancy.

  When I’m able to move, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind for convincing me to get married before I have our baby.

  It seems a naked Callan is just as convincing to me as a naked me is for him. I huff. “Yes, I’m just hot. Callan may have to come in here if he wants to get married. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get off the couch.”

  “Sweetie, it’s December. It’s not hot in here.”

  “It’s Texas,” I mutter.