by Zara Teleg
I was startled by the subtle taps of boots creeping down the steps. A low “fuck” was uttered when the person knocked something over; the sound of an object rolling on concrete broke the silence. That woke up Paige, her body stiffening, and she pushed harder against me. Who the hell was sneaking around in the dark? The pungent body odor hit me next. No, no, no, no. Not Joker.
Shuffling footsteps were getting closer. Then a phone lit up some space, just enough for Joker to aim the light around, looking for us…or me.
“Gotcha, bitch,” he spoke softly.
Joker made quick work of disconnecting the two of us, tying Paige to a pipe. “I hope you like to watch.” He placed me just feet in front of her. He held her chin in his hand as she struggled. Her eyes were pleading with mine.
“The fucking Columbian ain’t making me wait any longer for what’s owed to me.” He whispered in my ear, hauling me up roughly. His blade glinted in the light of the phone. He slid the cold sharp edge along my throat as Paige struggled and tried to make noise. He turned the knife toward her. “You make one more fucking sound, and you will be permanently silent.” Paige quieted, but her eyes stayed wildly trained on me, her body shaking.
Joker turned his attention back on me. He took the long blade and ran a line from my belly button to the bra that was already exposed from our last encounter. He tucked it under the fabric and split it open, exposing my breasts. I tried to push back, but I remembered how turned on he’d been when I fought him off before.
“Perfection,” he growled, shining the phone light on my body. I trembled as the knife made its way to my jeans. Cutting off each button, licking his lips as each struck the ground. He was enjoying the slow torture.
Joker placed the knife on the floor so he could use both hands to yank my jeans down, panties coming with them. I tried not to panic. I had to wait for just the right moment. I pushed the screw through my fingers, pointed it out, made it ready. I gave him a quick and hard kick to the head. I must have been weaker than I thought because he recovered quickly and punched me in the gut, the screw dropping to the floor. The blow had me gagging and gasping for air. Defeated, I could hear the metal screw bouncing on the concrete. Paige shrieked through the tape, infuriating Joker.
“I said shut the fuck up!” He grabbed the knife, pointed it at her and began marching toward her. But he abruptly stopped—a loud set of pops, followed by shouting, and pounding footsteps ran across the upstairs floor.
Rage
Marco was either confident in the safety of their location or stupid. We entered quietly, following the instructions Hack spoke through our earpieces. The moment someone discovered one of our men, complete chaos broke out. There were seven of us who entered the building, four who took the outside.
I took out two men by the back entrance. My silencer was on; no one heard a thing. Colt did the same at the front. One jackass came out of the bathroom, caught sight of an intruder, and yelled in Spanish before Ace could shut him up. Guns were firing all around. Several suicidal men shielded Marco. One in particular caught my attention as he went the opposite direction. He was massive and had dark glasses and a fucked-up scarred face.
I followed him. He seemed to be on a mission. I opened doors along the way, praying to find Juliet behind one of them. I stayed at a distance, hiding behind walls and doors until, through a mirror, I saw him stop in front of a door. He looked around before opening it and then disappeared.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Gavin pointing behind me; two men were coming down the hall. I took cover, keeping an eye on the door the big man had gone through. A few seconds later, the door open, and the big man re-emerged. He wasn’t alone. Lifted under his arm was Paige, tears flowing down her face. Her mouth was taped, and her hands were tied. He was dragging her down the hall toward an exit.
Gavin directed me to Kai, who was hiding behind a door in the next room. Kai followed the big man, nodding to let me know he was going after Paige. I had no doubt he would retrieve her safely. I kept watching through the mirror.
I opened the door from which the man came out. I looked down the dark stairwell. I felt around to locate a switch that turned on a single hanging bulb at the bottom of the steps. Not much light came from the old bulb. I pointed my gun as I descended.
At first, I didn’t hear the muffled screams through all the noise coming from upstairs. I shone the light toward the sound.
Twenty emotions hit me at once. I didn’t know where to look. Joker held Juliet in front of him as a shield. Her hands were tied behind her back, her face battered, her body naked.
There was no scenario in which Joker was coming out of this room alive. My gun pointed at him. His knife was held sharply against Juliet’s throat. My pistol was too kind. I wanted to spend a long time making him painfully regret every hair on her head that he’d hurt and every tear she had shed. Blood pumped through me like lava, a heat, a level of fury that I had never experienced before. My sweet baby was trapped in his fucking arms.
“Drop the knife,” I growled, my Glock aimed at Joker’s head.
“You think I’m that stupid?” he spat. “She’s mine now, hotshot. She’s my payment. You ain’t taking her. She’s my ticket to getting out of here, alive.”
“Not a fucking chance.” My arm extended a perfect line to his forehead. Could I make the shot and not hit Juliet or chance his knife slicing her neck wide open? The knife pressed into her delicate skin. A line of blood trickled down her neck. Joker laughed as he began to back away.
“Oh, yeah?” Juliet’s scream pierced the air as Joker plunged the knife into her side, pulled it out and brought it back against her neck.
“Boy, you better let me pass, or she’s going to bleed out right here in my arms.”
Juliet’s eyes found mine. I read her face as if she was speaking out loud, her eyes pleading with me to take the shot. She gave me a small nod, confirming my thoughts. Her naked body was shaking under his hold. A puncture wound in her beautiful torso, bleeding badly.
I took a breath and focused my eyes. Finding my target, I zoomed in on a mark on his forehead. There was no sound as I squeezed the trigger, just two bodies hitting the floor.
I sprinted the few feet, lifting his bloody body off hers. I gently pulled the tape from Juliet’s mouth. “Rage…” my name came out broken. My beautiful wild angel was broken.
“Baby, it’s going to be okay. You’re going home.” My eyes filled up. “I’m going to take you home,” I whispered.
Using Joker’s blade, I cut the ties holding her arms and hands. I pulled the black T-shirt I was wearing over my head and maneuvered it over her body. She was weak and could barely stand, the blood from her stomach was causing her to pale by the second. I pulled off my bandana, stuffing it hard against the wound to try and slow the bleeding. “We’re getting you out of here, baby, just stay with me.”
I scooped her up and carried her silently through the basement. She needed a hospital. I had to get her out of here, now. Panic and adrenaline were fighting over my body.
Juliet’s head was cradled in the crook of my neck. She could barely speak but managed to say, “Paige…”
“Kai’s on it,” I whispered back. As I got to the top of the steps, I listened for gunfire before cracking open the door. I saw bodies. Then a few more. So far none were my brothers. When I thought it was clear, I pushed it open, with Juliet light in my arms. I crept down the hall. My earpiece was dead. Shit.
There was a room to my left that I needed to pass to get to the exit. If there was a God, like my Grandma had promised, I would make it out of here to get my angel help. Her lips were pale. I had to move. I took the steps toward the exit. I hiked her body over my shoulder, putting pressure on her wound, holding her tight. My head swiveled to the open room.
Fuck. A standoff.
Three of my men—Ace, Ledger, and Hawk—against three of theirs. Marco and two of his men looked to be the only ones left.
Six guns pointed at one another, si
x sets of eyes looking at me. Juliet limp in my arms, my gun in my waistband.
I stood frozen at the scene before me. Juliet stirred at my abrupt stop. She lifted her head off my shoulder taking in the situation. Marco laughed at the sight of a bleeding Juliet. “I told you, you won’t be leaving here alive, bitch.”
Then the sound of a cocking gun. “Gotcha, motherfucker.” It was Gavin, fury and revenge written all over his face. His gun added to our numbers.
I felt it before I heard the shot. The movement taking me by surprise, cold metal sliding up my bare back. One perfect shot quietly discharged into Marco’s head. Blood sprayed the room before anyone realized what had happened.
Marco’s eyes were still open, a hole in his head, his white suit covered in his blood. “Fuck you, Marco” she whispered. The gun fell from her hand as she collapsed back in my arms.
Our boys quickly disarmed Marco’s men. I blew past them and out the door. “I have to get her to the hospital. She’s bleeding out.” Gavin was only a step behind me, helping me load her into the van.
“Juliet, stay with me, baby. I can’t lose you. Angel, I love you so much. I’m so sorry.” I kept her tight to my chest, kissing her head as tears I never shed came spilling out of my eyes. The pain was more than I could bear as I watched life leaving her body one moment at a time. I screamed at the driver, “Get us to the fucking hospital now!” I couldn’t lose her. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to live in this cruel world any longer. I did something I hadn’t done since I was ten years old—I prayed. I prayed to any god, angel, or loved one who’d listen. I bargained. I made promises. She had to survive. Her breathing was slowing by the second. She was slipping away from me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Juliet
For a nearly a month, Rage had not left my side. He had been my shadow since the moment I woke up in the hospital.
I spent a week at St. Mary’s. Waking up there was like déjà vu. They told me I’d been out for several hours after the incident, and Rage had gone nearly out of his mind.
Ace and some of the other guys from the Tallahassee chapter had been in and out, checking up on me. Every time Ace smiled at me or touched my hand, I thought Rage was going to punch him. Even worse was when Richard had come by the house. Though I still didn’t like the guy, I had to thank him for his part in getting us rescued.
The guilt I felt for the Stained Souls putting their lives at risk for mine and Paige’s was overwhelming at first. But they kept reassuring me and telling me how relieved they were that we were safe and Marco was out of their territories.
I was temporarily a little worse for wear, but at least I was alive and surrounded by people who loved me. Rage and Ivy fought for the times I was allowed visitors.
Paige had been so attentive toward me the first two days in the hospital, then she became withdrawn and wouldn’t see me. That hurt more than any injury I had sustained. I knew that I needed to give her space. I couldn’t even imagine what all this had done to her already fragile mental state. She wouldn’t talk to anyone about what happened. Ivy assured me that she was okay and that Kai was keeping an eye on her.
Rage had become my resident caretaker since I got home. Simon had been sending every green juice imaginable to help me heal. When I wasn’t drinking juices, an assortment of Roasted brews always filled my kitchen with heavenly aroma.
I had a doctor’s visit this morning to remove the remaining stitches. I got cleared for non-strenuous activities. I could think of a few strenuous activities I would like to be doing. Sleeping next to Rage every night without having him inside me had been torturous.
The Stained Souls were still waiting for the fall out of what happened. Gavin used his connections to get the mess taken care of, leaving the Souls out—the guys on the force were just happy to see Marco and his operation taken down. Now we’re uncertain what the hell would happen next. They were worried about retaliation, especially from Antonio.
Today the clubhouse was helping me celebrate my all-clear status. Just a small get-together. Ivy organized it with Colt and Hawk. It was unusually warm for being so close to Thanksgiving. The view at the club was picturesque. The leaves were vibrant shades of orange, red, and yellow lighting up the sides of the mountains. There were a few tables set up around the back, and the boys started a bonfire where we sat around like a bunch of kids eating, laughing, and drinking hot chocolate and spiked cider.
Our private party was interrupted when a new prospect, Jamie, came running down the path behind the clubhouse. He was out of breath with his hands on his knees as he puffed out, “Limo, out front.”
“Stay here,” Colt told the women. We, of course, didn’t listen. We all peeked around the corner where the guys cautiously approached the vehicle.
Jamie wasn’t kidding. A long, sleek black limo parked out front. The front passenger door opened first. A tall man dressed in a black suit and shiny shoes stepped out. He stood next to the door with his hands crossed in front of him as the limo driver opened up the backseat door.
A set of black shoes hit the ground, followed by a gold cane. A salt-and-pepper-haired man, also dressed in a suit, stepped out. Another man followed, gun strapped across his chest.
The older man was dressed impeccably. My stomach flipped as he removed his glasses and I got a better look. He extended his hand toward Colt. His face was Antonio’s twenty-five years in the future. I knew him immediately. This couldn’t be good.
After he had introduced himself, tension rose, both sides on guard until Mr. Cordona made a gesture and spoke in Spanish. Soon everyone relaxed, and Colt and Rage joined him at a small table. His guards stayed by the limo while our guys remained a safe distance back. All eyes were fixed on the men talking. Everyone was on edge, eager to find out the reason behind the visit. Then Mr. Cordona gestured as he spoke, of what we couldn’t tell.
It was more than thirty minutes before the three men stood and shook hands. Rage turned to look around. He spotted my snooping face among the others and waved for me to join them. I felt uneasy as I walked the twenty yards to where they stood.
“Ahh, so this is Anabelle. I see why my son had such a hard time letting go.” His English was a little hard to understand. His eyes swiped my body from head to toe and smiled in approval. Then he offered me his palm, and I gave him my hand. “Mr. Cordona,” I said respectfully.
He kissed my hand gently, sincerity was apparent in his manner. “I am truly sorry for the events that happened to you. Sebastian informed me of the unpleasant experiences you and your sister had at the hands of my sons.” He covered his heart with both his hands, slightly bowing his head.
I jumped at the mention of Sebastian. “I’m sorry, dear, Sebastian worked for Marco, but he reported to me.” He straightened his stance, leveling his eyes with mine.
“Marco was acting on his own. I explained to your family here,” he motioned toward Colt and Rage, “that he was trying to go off on his own, getting into places and with people he had no business doing. I came today to apologize for my son’s bad behavior, and I would like to make peace with those whom Marco wronged. We have no intention in taking up where he left off. And we would like a truce between our cartel and the Stained Souls MC.”
He appeared sincere, but so did Antonio. I learned once not to trust the Cordonas.
Rage draped his arm over my shoulder. “Thank you, Mr. Cordona. The girls appreciate that. I hope your other son feels the same, and we won’t have any further issues with him.” That had Colt stiffening, the tick in his jaw prominent, but he held back, not wanting to insult the cartel’s word.
“Yes, Mr. Rage, was it? Antonio will be no trouble to you or Ms. Conti again.” He emphasized the words and kissed my hand again before returning to the limo.
Once the car was far enough down the drive, the whole lot of them let down their guarded posture. “What the hell was that?” Kai spoke first.
Shaking his head, Colt, lit a joint. “Fuckin’ crazy.” He inhaled deeply,
waiting a few seconds before sending out the large cloud of smoke. “They’re offering a truce. I hope it’s true, but I don’t fucking trust them.”
Rage
Lord’s head swiveled back and forth as he watched me pace for an hour, waiting for Juliet to wake up. She usually got up earlier than I did, but last night I couldn’t sleep.
I felt like a five-year-old, only I was the one waiting to give the gift, not get it. I sat petting Lord, waiting for my girl to get out of bed. It was barely 5 am, and we were out pretty late last night. The girls organized a Christmas Eve party at the clubhouse; it was something we’d never done. They decorated and had a tree and lots of food and holiday-themed drinks. They planned a big dinner for today, too. The clubhouse had become a little less wild since Shelly, Ivy, and Juliet decided to hang around. It was more like a family now. I had not had a real Christmas since my grandmother passed away.
I was glad Juliet had the girls to keep her mind off things. I knew she struggled, especially with Paige being so close but still not responding to her. Paige’s correspondences had been limited to Ivy and Kai. Ivy had offered Paige a room in her place, but she insisted on being on her own. Kai agreed to let her take an empty unit in his apartment building, knowing he could keep an eye on her.
Juliet had such a tough time giving Paige the space she asked for; this whole thing with her and Paige was eating her alive. She’d begged her to see a therapist, but since she was not a threat to herself or others, we couldn’t force her to go.
I wish I could get them to talk to each other; Juliet’s guilt was overwhelming her. I know Kai had been trying. Not sure what was up with that, I’d never really seen him be protective of any woman. He seemed to be the only one Paige trusted. Kai was the one who got her away from Sebastian, but neither of them was specific about what happened. All I knew was that Kai and Paige had shared something that day, but that was something Juliet would have to figure out ‘cause, as a manly man, I wasn’t getting involved in that mushy drama.
