Healed (The Devil’s Disciples #5)

Chapter 1

Gabriella

He was there.

The thought kept replaying in my mind as the chaos broke out around me.

He was there, and he had left thinking I was dead.

He didn’t just linger outside my house like he usually did. He came to rescue me. And he hadn’t just thought I was dead—he saw it with his own eyes.

But where had he gone?

What had he done?

Why had I taken that stupid fucking drug and gone along with this stupid plan?

My mind swam as I tried to make sense of all of this. Why had Vienna broken our routine? What had he seen that had spooked him enough that he’d entered the clubhouse in search of me?

Dante barked orders, his face furious as he roared at his club members.

Rachel was surrounded by her ladies, trying to calm them down whilst also looking like she was hardly holding it together herself.

And the rest of the club seemed to exist at a volume that made the entire room almost unbearable.

Conversations blurred into one. It was just noise. Just white, loud, empty noise that I barely heard.

I could barely hear anything over the rushing of blood in my ears. Of my own heartbeat pounding viciously—so viciously I felt as though it would burst from my chest at any moment.

He was there…

He thought I was dead.

And if he thought I was dead, there was no doubt in my mind that he was going to make Nico pay for it.

Alone.

And we were probably too late to stop it.

He was playing with fire being on enemy territory to begin with. But to confront their leader—a leader who was as unstable as Nico—was certainly signing his own death warrant.

A million thoughts raced through me—how long had I been asleep, how long had it taken to get here, how long had it been since Vienna had left to seek revenge?

How much fucking time did we have?

I had no idea of the answers. But in my heart, I already knew we were running out of time.

A mere second in Nico’s company was too long. And that was when he was in a good mood. But Nico out for revenge? Nico wanting to cause hurt?

That Nico was best avoided at all costs.

Because Vienna wouldn’t hold back. He would tell Nico what he believed—that he had seen me dead on top of that bed.

Nico had already made it clear that he would never let me leave. That he would follow me to the ends of the earth to bring me back under lock and key.

He would have no reason not to believe Vienna about my suicide. There would be no other reason for Vienna to approach him.

But he would blame Vienna. Of that, I was certain.

And the consequences of that didn’t bear thinking about. He would make Vienna pay for this, and Vienna was all alone.

Why the fuck had he gone without his brothers? Why the fuck hadn’t he asked for help?

And yet I knew the answer.

I’d always known the answer.

I just didn’t want to face it.

But the truth was, Vienna wouldn’t want to live in a world without me. He may have kept his distance all these years. He may have given me freedom in his own way. But he knew I was alive. He knew he stood a chance.

The ugly truth was staring us all in the face.

Without me, Vienna had given up the fight before it had even begun.

This was his version of suicide.

And that was the real reason Rachel and the other old ladies were crying. This was the real reason Dante was swearing and smashing up his own clubhouse. The reason every member here seemed to be breaking in two with grief before they’d even found out the full story.

We weren’t allowed to say it out loud. We weren’t supposed to discuss the past. But the truth was, Vienna loved me. As much as we avoided it, as much as we skittered around it and pretended it didn’t exist, the truth was now hitting all of us in the face.

He loved me. And he wouldn’t survive without me.

“What happened tonight, Gabriella?” Dante demanded, seizing me by the shoulders.

“I… I…” I swallowed heavily.

“Because I’ll tell you what fucking happened here.

We were attacked by Riders. Vienna left to find you, despite knowing we had other charters on the way.

He told us you were fucking with him! I need you to fill in the blanks here, because somewhere between your club and you arriving here, my right-hand man is missing. ”

Missing…

The Devils were attacked.

Nico… What have you done?

Dante let go of me with a savage snarl, almost hurling me away from him.

And, once again, the world seemed to blur as I lost myself in my mind.

However, slowly, painfully slowly, snippets of conversation filtered in again.

“Dante, stop!” one of the men hissed, grabbing his arm as he went to throw a chair across the room. “Brother, this isn’t the fucking answer!”

“Do you know what this means? Do you know what’s going to happen to him?” Dante roared back, making the men flinch.

He threw the chair anyway. It crashed against the wall and splintered into pieces.

I drowned them out.

We all knew what it meant.

More furniture flew. Bottles smashed. I barely noticed it. All I could feel was the numbness creeping through me.

Because my own truth was beginning to rear its ugly head, making me question everything.

Did I really want to live in a world without Vienna?

My entire life flashed before my eyes, memories swirling behind my lids as moment after moment, every precious, stolen minute we spent together tormented me.

All I had tried to do was keep him safe. The last ten years of my life had been about Vienna, about keeping him alive. And it had all been for nothing. It had all been—

“Enough!” a voice suddenly boomed, snapping me back into the present. I cast my eyes towards the bar, seeing Rachel ringing the last orders bell before standing on a stool and glaring at the men.

She stood tall and proud, looking like a beautiful blonde warrior. Her hair streamed down her back, and her eyes shimmered with rage.

“E-fucking-nough!” she repeated, her voice quieter, but somehow having more of an impact. Slowly but surely, the bar quietened.

“We’re not going to do this,” she said, wiping her tears. “This is not who we are. Not anymore. Catastrophising was Crash’s way of dealing with things and that is not how we rule. We are the Devil’s fucking Disciples, and we are under Dante’s leadership. Let’s fucking remember that!”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she snapped them open again, there was renewed life in them. “Hacksaw, what do we know?”

“Vienna is a fucking idiot?” Hacksaw replied.

“Correct! Vienna is a fucking idiot. But he is our idiot. And do you know what else we know?”

“He—”

“Shut up, Pivot,” one of the other men said, elbowing Pivot in the side.

“Thank you, Greg,” Rachel said. “What we know about Vienna is that he took charge in a time of crisis. He kept his head and made sure shit got done. He damned sure didn’t sit around crying.

Remember when Dante was kidnapped? Who led the rescue mission?

Vienna!” she yelled, not waiting for an answer.

“And we will not be sitting around assuming the worst and crying either. We will follow his example and find him, one way or another. Dante, how long until the other charters arrive?”

“Hours, maybe less,” Dante said, checking his watch.

“Not ideal, but we can work with it. For now, it looks like we’re on our own.”

“What’s the plan?” Pivot asked, looking confused.

“We’re getting our man back,” she replied as though he were stupid. “And we’re doing it right fucking now!”

She jumped down from the stool as the bar erupted in cheers.

“Listen up, everyone!” Dante yelled. “We need everyone ready and mobilised to leave in two minutes. Sharp.”

“Dante, get—”

“Already on it, darling,” Dante grinned back. “I’ve already sent Heather a message. She’s going to stay behind with the kids and keep them all in the safe room. And yes, she’s armed and loaded, just in case.”

“Perfect,” Rachel breathed, looking relieved. “Send Trex her way as well. The bikes—”

“Are on their way,” Dante interrupted, following her train of thought. “Riley is sorting it all. Have you got—?”

“The guns?” Rachel interrupted, reaching under the bar and grabbing something taped underneath. She pulled out a gun, checked the ammo, and then pocketed it. “Please. I’m Rachel fucking King. When do I not have a weapon?”

Dante grabbed hold of her by her waist, pulling her closer and planting a rough kiss to her forehead.

“We’re getting him back,” he whispered against her skin.

She nodded. “I know. But if he—”

“He isn’t.”

“But if he is, I’m resurrecting him and killing him myself,” she muttered before they pulled away from each other and began pulling on their gear.

“Right. Hacksaw, you get the stash of guns from the basement,” Dante boomed, keeping his old lady tucked against his side once they were dressed in their riding clothes. “Pivot, the knives are… shit, where is the latest shipment of—”

“Locked in the workshop,” Rachel finished seamlessly. “Pivot, you know where the key is. What’s the ETA on these bikes?”

“All prepped and loaded, boss lady,” Chris grinned back at her, poking his head out of the clubhouse doors.

“How long until everyone is ready and we can get the fuck out of here?” she asked.

“A minute. Max.”

“Well, you heard my old lady,” Dante said. “What the fuck are we waiting for?”