Chapter 39 Mirabelle #2
“Don’t stand,” I say, my gaze staying locked on his face. I can’t look at his bloody jeans without wanting to sob. “I can do it.”
“No,” Rage growls, his massive arms banding tighter around me.
“Well then are you gonna let me go and do it yourself, big guy?” I murmur softly, my gaze darting between his eyes. One bright. One milky.
He shakes his head a single time.
“Well, then how about you carry me?”
Rage gives me a singular nod, shuffling forward so I can grab the keys from Rowan’s extended hand. They’re a little bloody, but I choose to ignore that.
“Enough talking, more getting us out of here!” Ash snaps. “That alarm means the cops are coming, right?”
I pale at the thought.
Oh no. what does that mean for us?
“Mirabelle, sweetheart, you’ve gotta focus,” Griffin says, his voice steady, if a bit hoarse from the shock collar earlier. “We need you to stay strong for a little longer. Just focus on getting us out of here, okay?”
I give him a jerky nod, clinging to the thread of reassurance he’s sending me through the bond.
Good. I can still feel him.
That means our bond isn’t broken.
Thank goodness.
With shaky hands, I slide the key into the lock.
Griffin shoves the door open, leaning down and brushing a kiss on my forehead.
He lingers there, breathing me in for a split second before taking the keys to Ash’s cage.
“You’re not gonna kill the kid, are you?” Griffin huffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares down the other alpha.
Ash’s jaw clenches.
“Jury’s still out,” he snaps.
“Leave me—“ The two words barely leave Rowan’s lips before Griffin and I are yelling at him.
“No!” I cry out.
“Fuck no,” Griffin snaps.
“Don’t hurt Rowan!” I plead, turning back to Ash. “We have to focus on getting out of here. All five of us. Please, Ash!”
Something about my tone of voice makes Rage’s chest vibrate with a growl.
“Fine,” Ash snaps, rolling his eyes. “I’m not getting stuck playing babysitter, but I won’t kill him. You fuckers don’t need to gang up on me.”
“Great. Glad we’ve found some common ground,” Griffin nods before unlocking Ash’s cage.
Ash is in front of me a split second later, his gaze locked on where my bloody hand still clings to my shoulder.
“Let me see,” he says, his voice low.
I instantly obey. It’s like second nature. Always has been.
But I do scrunch my eyes shut. I don’t want to see.
He takes my wrist in his hand, holding me more delicately than I ever thought possible as he peers down at my bloodied flesh.
“It’s probably going to need stitches, but you’re not gonna bleed out,” he sighs, his shoulders losing some of their tension.
My shoulders do the same, and another sob leaves my throat. “So I’m not gonna die?”
“You’re not gonna die, Shortcake. Not if we have anything to say about it.”
“Is—is the bond mark okay?” I whisper, still not daring to look down at myself.
“It’s fine,” Ash sighs. “Missed it by an inch or so.”
“Th—thank you,” I manage to say before clinging to Rage and burying my face in his chest. Sobs of relief flow out of me, right along with my tears.
There’s the tearing of fabric as Griffin assesses Rowan’s wounds.
“You’re practically turning my jeans into hoochie-daddy shorts,” Rowan hisses through clenched teeth.
“What’s worse, having shitty style or bleeding out on this floor ‘cause I can’t tell how bad this gunshot is?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rowan mutters.
When he notices me watching him, his lips quirk up in a strained smile.
But he can’t hide how terrified he is. I can feel it through our bond.
Griffin has a better handle on our bond. He seems to be able to send specific emotions through to me when he wants to .
Rowan doesn’t do that. He feels what he feels and I can feel it too.
He thinks he’s going to die.
Which makes me think he’s going to die too.
Rage holds me tighter, a purr vibrating through his chest and into mine.
My eyes fly up to meet his.
He’s trying to comfort me.
The simple action brings tears springing back into my eyes.
His own go wide and the purring stops, as if he’s afraid he did something wrong.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, reaching up and cupping his face. He doesn’t flinch away, even though my hand is bloody. “You’re just being so sweet.”
Rowan lets out a hiss of pain.
“How bad is it?” I ask, my head snapping to Griffin and Rowan so quickly it tugs at the cut on my shoulder.
“He’ll need medical attention, but he’s not gonna bleed out,” Griffin answers, tying Rowan’s hoodie around his thigh to stem the bleeding. “Missed an artery, which is good.”
Griffin’s gaze shoots behind me and his eyes narrow.
“The fuck’re you doing, Ash?” He sighs. “Why’re you feeling up a corpse?”
“I’m not ‘feeling him up’,” Ash says, rolling his eyes. “Just checking to see if he’s got anything important. Which he does, by the way. So feel free to thank me.”
Ash holds up two pairs of keys. One set of carkeys and another...
My eyes wide.
“That’s for our collars!” I say, my eyes going wide.
“You know it,” Ash says, his grin wide as he jerks the collar around his neck so the padlock is hanging in front of him.
A split second later, the metal is falling to the floor.
“Let me get hers, Rage,” Ash says, nodding to me.
Rage nods, turning me towards him.
My neck feels so much lighter than it has in months at this point, the rubbery plastic falling away and onto the floor.
Rage’s collar comes off next. Then Griffin’s.
“Thanks,” Griffin nods, hefting Rowan onto his back. “Now we get the hell out of here before the police get here.”
Ash hands me the car keys. “Your job’s really important, Shortcake. Hold onto these for me, got it?”
I nod, clutching them to my chest like they’re a treasure.
Ash picks up the sheathed knife in one hand and the gun he took from Jett’s corpse in the other.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”