The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “Adrianna,” Anthony shouts, shaking me as he turns my chin left of the flames. I narrow my eyes, push through the tears and watch as Stryker emerges stomping over a mountain of rubble carrying my sister.

  “Mikey,” she screams over his shoulder, pounding her fists over and over against his shoulder. “Put me down! I told you to leave me if you couldn’t get him out.”

  Stoically, he drops my sister in front of me and grabs a hold of Pipe. I bend, ignoring the aches shooting through my body and wrap my arms around my sister.

  “Thank you,” I whisper to him. I’m not sure if he hears me because he grabs a hold of Pipe’s arm and turns his gaze to Anthony.

  “I need help getting the bar off them.”

  “Anthony, please, you have to save him. Please!” Nikki cries in my arms.

  Another shrill voice screams, tearing my attention away from the three men staring back at me and my sister.

  “Lacey,” Pipe screams, looking between the direction of Lacey’s voice and the other where his wife, Mikey and God knows who else is trapped.

  Who do you save?

  Who do you choose?

  Chapter Forty-One

  Wake up!

  But this isn’t a nightmare and I’m already awake.

  Creating deep scratches, I drag my nails back and forth across my arms and draw blood. Despite my hopes and prayers, the crimson stares back at me antagonizing me just like my mind is and confirms this is real.

  Hysteria ripples through me as my eyes dart around searching through thick smoke and fire for the people I love.

  Blackie.

  Dad.

  Reina.

  I was standing right beside Reina when the man came into the clubhouse. Right beside her. She has to be somewhere close. And Dad, I remember him throwing himself over her before the blast. I remember that because when they went down I locked eyes with Blackie and saw the terror in his face, the unmistakable look of defeat.

  “GET DOWN!”

  There wasn’t enough time for him to get to me and the look in his eyes, accompanied by the pain in his voice, solidified my knight cloaked in leather wouldn’t be able to save me.

  Not this time.

  I fought my mind believing the destruction was all in my head but another glance at the track marks my nails are making on my arms and I know that this time it’s not the maker inside me wreaking havoc but one we don’t know.

  “Blackie!” I scream, not sure my voice is even making a sound. There is something lodged in my throat suffocating me. I try to pull whatever it is out with my fingers but nothing is coming out. I swallow but it doesn’t help. I force myself to cough, hoping to hack whatever it is up but wind up spitting into my hand, covering my palm with my saliva and blood.

  Wiping my hand down the front of my dress I hear people screaming and crying. My eyes widen with hope and my heart rate picks up. There are survivors out there in the fire, in the rubble there are people alive begging for help.

  Not your people.

  Listen closely, those aren’t the voices you want to hear.

  Covering my ears, I press my palms down as hard as they can go, squeezing my maker out of my head as I crawl out from the corner I seem to have land in when the explosion occurred.

  They didn’t survive.

  Your father is dead.

  Blackie is dead.

  Reina and the baby won’t make it.

  You’ll live the rest of your life alone wishing you died too.

  “No,” I yell. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

  But my maker doesn’t stop and every step I take, the voice becomes louder. Through my tears, through the torment of my mind, I see the familiar reaper. I drop my hands from my head and with a belly full of dread I walk toward the body. My hands tremble as I roll the body over and stare at the familiar face. Bosco. I bring my fingers to his neck, pray for a pulse but the moment my fingers touch his skin I know I won’t find one. The life is already drained out of him.

  “Lacey!”

  Rocking back on my heels, I drop my hand from Bosco and search for the voice calling out my name.

  “Blackie?” I shriek, fisting my hands in frustration as the smoke fills my lungs and burns my eyes. “Where are you?”

  Struggling, I climb over Bosco’s body in the direction I think his voice is and fight to keep my eyes open.

  “I’m coming for you, girl. I’m going to get you out of here,” he yells. “I need you to look around and tell me what you see. Can you do that for me?”

  Bracing one hand against a piece of steel, I clear my throat and swallow the grainy particles choking me. I lift the hem of my dress and wipe my irritated eyes, blinking several times before scanning the area. I narrow my eyes as I see a doorway but I’m not sure where it leads. Stepping closer, I hear another person groan.

  “Hello?” I call out. “Who’s there?”

  “Lacey, you need to name your surroundings. Something. Anything,” Blackie shouts.

  A large frame fills the doorway and my eyes clash with Wolf’s strained face.

  “Wolf!” I holler, relief filling my voice. “Blackie, I see Wolf!”

  Wolf doesn’t pay any attention to me, he’s to enthralled with the object he’s struggling to drag through the door way. I hurry toward him, climbing over thrown objects until I’m standing in front of him. He lifts his eyes, sweat pouring from his face as he drags the beloved table out of the chapel.

  “We’re near the chapel,” I shout back to Blackie.

  “Don’t move, I’m coming for you.”

  “Okay,” I cry out, turning back to Wolf. “Did you hear that, Wolf? Blackie’s coming, he will get us out of here.”

  Lifting his right hand to his left arm, Wolf hunches over the table as his face contorts with pain.

  “Wolf?”

  “Tell the Bulldog I tried to save it,” he grunts, losing his grip on the table as he collapses in pain before my feet.

  “No, no, no. Wolf!” I cry, dropping to the ground as I reach for him. “Stay with me,” I plead, watching as all the strength drains from his body and he continues to clutch his arm.

  “Lace, I’m almost there,” Blackie calls.

  “Please hurry! I think Wolf is having a heart attack,” I shriek, taking his left hand. “Hang on, Wolf, hang on for your sons, they need you,” I tell him but as the words leave my mouth his eyes close in defeat.

  A crash sounds in the distance, forcing my eyes to lift and watch as Blackie appears, swinging pieces of metal out of his way, clearing a path straight for me. There are several lacerations marking his face, blood drips from his brow, a gash under his eye and his bottom lip is split in two. He turns his head, his eyes finding mine, and he tear escapes his eye.

  There is so much reflected in his eyes but the most evident is love and relief. It mirrors what shines in mine as I look at him.

  Face to face.

  Leather and Lace.

  “Thank fucking God,” he says, rushing toward me.

  His arms wrap around my trembling body and the nightmare we’re a part of fades away. It’s just him and I, two people who never stop fighting for each other.

  His lips brush my temple as he pulls back, holding my face as he examines me.

  “Are you okay?” he asks as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and winces when he gently touches the gash on my head.

  “I am now,” I whisper through my tears.

  He brings me against him again, crushing my bruised body in his arms before he kisses my lips lightly.

  “I thought I lost you too,” he admits. “Shit, Wolf…”

  He releases his hold on me, moving around me to check Wolf’s pulse.

  “Is he…”

  “He’s alive,” he confirms, throwing one of Wolf’s arms around his neck. “Come on, Wolf, we’re going to get you out of here. Lacey, grab his other arm,” he says, struggling to lift him. Quickly, I move to his other side and mimic Blackie’s stance. Together, we move Wolf into an u
pright position. His body like lead, we pull him up, balancing his weight between us.

  Blackie leads the way and we walk in the direction he first appeared. I glance around the destruction; my eyes fall to the wooden table that Wolf tried so hard to salvage. The table my father held dear to his heart.

  “You with me, girl?”

  “My dad,” I murmur, turning my eyes to Blackie’s. “What about him and Reina?”

  “We’ll find them,” he reassures me.

  No you won’t.

  It’s too late.

  I close my eyes, fighting back the voice I fear is true and pray Blackie is right.

  I pray they are together.

  And more than anything I pray they are alive.

  There is something solid on top of me, pinning me down, something heavy that acts as a shield. Opening my eyes, I realize it’s a body that is protecting me from the building that has exploded and continues to collapse around us.

  The body of the man I was supposed to marry.

  There are certain things that resonate with you, unforgettable situations that stick with you, like, being trapped in a burning house with your fiancé. For a moment I feel as if I’m transcended back in time. The sounds are the same, the scents too, and so is the suffocating feeling of dust and debris trapped in my lungs. The flames crackle and sizzle, threatening to melt the layers of skin as they once did before. And like before, I don’t care. I am not frightened by the fire but terrified of losing the man I’m with.

  However, amongst the similarities there are also differences.

  Jack is unconscious, but he’s breathing, he isn’t dead.

  And there is a life inside of me, a fragile life who is relying on me to keep it safe.

  This time I won’t lay down and die.

  This time I’ll fight.

  I swallow, easing the dryness from my throat and lift my hand to Jack’s ash covered face.

  “Jack.”

  He doesn’t respond but I feel his shallow breaths against my neck and hang on to hope. He’s heavy against me and my body aches as I slide out from under him. I clutch my stomach the minute I’m free as I feel a painful tightening across my stomach. Grinding my teeth through the pain, I try to move closer to Jack.

  “Jack, please wake up,” I cry, glancing down at my stomach. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, hold it and blow it out as the pain eases.

  I turn back to Jack, crawl toward him and roll him onto his back before taking his face in my palms.

  “Jack!” I shriek, desperate for him to wake. “I need you,” I plead, fearing the worst, knowing that another pain will shoot through my stomach and every minute that passes is crucial to the survival of our child.

  I lift my eyes as I hold his face and stare at the violent orange, yellow and red swirls dancing around the room. There is no life to be found amongst the ruins. There is only us. The cramps spread across my abdomen as I lay my head against his chest and my body shudders with sobs.

  I don’t know how long I lay there, staring at the flames as I clutch Jack’s leather vest and pray for a miracle. I think about the baby inside me, the man beneath me and how I’m slowly losing everything I’ve ever wanted. Any pain, heartache or suffering I’ve experienced in my life is insignificant compared to what I feel right now.

  “Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee,” I murmur as the tears roll down my cheeks and disappear somewhere onto the man I planned to promise to love and honor until death do we part. “Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.”

  I close my eyes, lay one hand on my belly and the other on Jack.

  “Amen.”

  My hair catches on something but I ignore the pull until it becomes a persistent tug. Opening my eyes, I slowly lift my head and my eyes stare into Jack’s.

  He unwinds the lock of hair wrapped around his fingers and continues to keep his eyes on me. I open my mouth to ask him what hurts when another pain shoots through me. Instantly, his eyes darken and I try to mask the pain contorting my face.

  “What’s the matter?” he questions.

  His eyes narrow in confusion and he opens his mouth again to speak but closes it as I shake my head.

  “Nothing,” I say through clenched teeth as I try to sit up.

  “Reina,” he shouts, forcing my gaze back to him as I clench my jaw and try to breathe. I watch as he lifts a hand to his ear and tries to shake his head.

  “I think…oh boy,” I hiss, watching as his eyes move to my lips. “I’m having contractions,” I groan.

  “Speak up,” he commands, averting his eyes back to mine.

  “I’m having contractions,” I shout even louder though he is merely centimeters from me. I watch his face fall. He shakes his head as he lifts both hands to his ears.

  He can’t hear me.

  Not a word.

  Silently, I pull his hands from his ears and rest them over my belly.

  A storm rages in the depths of his black eyes before he drops his gaze to my belly. His hands never leave me as I watch him cringe and struggle to sit up. I place my finger beneath his chin and tilt his head back so his eyes meet mine.

  I love you.

  My eyes whisper within the sound of silence.

  “You,” he replies with deaf ears.

  I take his hand, lay it flat against my chest and stare back at him.

  Me.

  I become inpatient waiting for Stryker, Anthony and Pipe to rescue Mikey, knowing every minute wasted is another cut from his life. If they couldn’t get him out then I wasn’t leaving his side. For better or worse, in sickness and in health, until death do we part. Unable to stand on her bare mangled feet, I watch as Adrianna collapses on top of the rubble before dodging back through the smoke and making my way back to my husband. The smoke is thick, making it hard to see, but I hear Anthony’s voice at the other end of the bar.

  “What are you doing?” Mike asks hoarsely.

  Ignoring him, I continue to move broken shards of glass, steel, and wood. I know it’s not making much of a difference and that I can never lift the weight pinning Mikey to the ground but I can’t sit still. I have to do something.

  “Nikki, we’ve got it! Go back to your sister,” Anthony shouts.

  I clear enough space to step between the debris and the woman wearing the red shoes. Before, I couldn’t tell who it was because of the large piece of Sheetrock blocking my vision. I grunt, pushing it out of the way just as the three men jump over the scatter of flames contained by steel.

  My eyes drift upward and I scream in horror as I stare at the lifeless woman. One of the glass shelves must have come flying at her and slit her throat.

  “What is it?” Mike demands.

  “Nikki,” Anthony hollers.

  “She’s over there! Fucking leave me, get her. Go to her!’

  I close my eyes, open them and she’s still there, dead, her head hangs onto her shoulders by a thread.

  “No! No! No! Oksana,” Pipe screams, knocking me out of the way as he reaches for her. His hands hesitate as they close in on her body, unsure where to touch her.

  Anthony pulls me up and spins me around, wrapping his arms around me and pushes my face into his chest, shielding my eyes from the brutal scene. I cry for the woman I never met and the man who collapses over her body and mourns.

  My brother-in-law guides me away from the tragic couple and back to my husband.

  “On three,” Stryker orders and Anthony releases me, pulling back to stare at me.

  “You’re okay,” he assures. “Mike will be okay. It’ll all be over soon. I promise.”

  I don’t respond as he lets go of me and moves to the other side of the beam trapping Mikey’s legs. The voices fade as the men count, grunt and struggle to free my husband and then I hear the muffled sounds of sirens.

  “Help is here,” Adrianna calls out to us.

  I close m
y eyes and thank God.

  But for some it is already too late.

  For some this is the end.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  I lean my elbows on my knees and stare at the glass doors as the sirens draw closer. After the call from Maria informing us of the explosion Lauren and I chartered my parents’ jet and hauled ass to the hospital. From take-off to landing we took two and a half hours to arrive. We’ve been waiting for a little over an hour now with still no word of anyone being brought in from the Dog Pound. Every time the doors open and they wheel in another stranger I lose my fucking shit. I’ve been here before. Sitting here helpless, waiting for word of those that matter and I swore I’d never do it again.

  The only silver lining is Kitten is beside me and not on a gurney speeding through the emergency room.

  “Look,” she says beside me, wrapping her arm around mine as she leans her head on my shoulder and points toward the dozen doctors running straight to the emergency room entrance.

  “That’s gotta be them,” I reply.

  Together we stand and make our way to the entrance, catching sight of the first ambulance that pulls in front.

  “Thirty-year-old female. Thirty weeks pregnant, contractions are seven minutes apart but her water hasn’t broken,” the paramedic shouts as the team of doctors wheel Reina through the doors.

  “Jack! Where’s Jack?”

  “Ma’am, I already told you we’ve got him. He’s in the next ambulance,” the paramedic assures her.

  “Reina!” I shout, trying to make my way over to her but I’m quickly pushed back as the doctors’ race away from the door. I spin around as another gurney is pushed through the doors.

  “Second-degree burns to his back and he can’t hear out of both ears,” someone says as they wheel Jack into the hospital.

  barely process my president lying helpless on a stretcher.

  “We’ve got a massive coronary over here,” another paramedic hollers from the street, lifting Wolf from the back of the ambulance.

  “Oh my God,” Lauren cries next to me, covering her face with her hands as the parade of injuries continues all at once.