Chapter 27
Pain radiates through my body, each breath a fresh reminder of Marcus’s handiwork.
The flickering fluorescent light above casts sickly shadows across the basement’s concrete floor, highlighting dark stains I know aren’t rust. My wrists burn against the zip ties binding me to the metal chair, but the physical discomfort is nothing compared to the rage coursing through my veins.
Tools scatter the workbench to my left—pliers crusted with something dark, a cattle prod that had been Marcus’s favorite toy an hour ago, and an array of knives that speak of possibilities I refuse to contemplate.
The basement air hangs heavy with the metallic scent of blood—my blood—and something else, something older and more sinister.
Eve’s face flashes through my mind. The determined set of her jaw, the fire in her eyes when she challenged me. The memory of her touch burns hotter than any wound Marcus has inflicted. I force down a wave of nausea as my ribs protest another shallow breath.
Footsteps echo from the stairwell. Marcus’s measured stride, followed by two men. The door creaks open, and they enter. Marcus approaches while the guards remain in the shadows.
I spit blood onto the floor. “Fuck you, Marcus. You’re losing time. You won’t get the codes for me.”
“Still so loyal.” Marcus circles behind me, his fingers drumming against the back of my chair. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Something in his voice makes my skin crawl. I crane my neck, trying to read his expression.
“Eve’s here.” The words hit like a physical blow. “Upstairs with Ano right now.”
My vision goes red. The zip ties bite into my flesh as I thrash against them. “You fucking liar!”
Marcus’s laugh echoes off the concrete walls.
“You should see yourself. The great Remy Harding, coming undone over a woman.” He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear.
“Ano’s going to break her, just like he broke her mother.
And you get to sit here, helpless, knowing you failed to protect her.
While she draws her last breath, maybe hoping to save you. How stupid of her.”
A roar tears from my throat, primal and raw. The chair rocks as I fight against my restraints, blood streaming down my wrists. “If he touches her, I’ll kill you all. Every last one of you.”
“That’s what I wanted to see.” Marcus steps back, admiring his handiwork. “That famous control finally shattered. Was it worth it, protecting her? Was she worth dying for?”
Marcus’s words hang in the air, cut short by a sound from above. My head snaps up, ears straining through the fog of pain. Footsteps—too light for Ano’s thugs. A whisper, barely audible, through the floorboards.
“Hear that?” I taunt, watching Marcus’s confident smirk falter. “Your security isn’t as tight as you thought.”
“Shut up.” He moves toward the door, hand reaching for his weapon.
A muffled thud overhead makes him freeze. Then another. The sound of a body hitting the hardwood. The guards by the door shift uneasily, their previously relaxed postures tensing.
“What’s happening up there?” one demands into his radio. Static answers.
A silenced thump cracks through the silence. Glass shatters somewhere above us. My pulse quickens as adrenaline floods my system, washing away some of the pain. I know those precise movements and that methodical approach. Military training.
“Your men are dead,” I say, tasting blood as I smile. “And you’re next.”
Marcus backhands me, splitting my lip further. “I said shut up!”
Another thump. Closer this time. The basement door rattles as someone tests the handle. The guards raise their weapons, but their hands shake. They know they’re trapped down here—rats in a corner.
“You should have killed me when you had the chance,” I growl at Marcus. “Because now? Now I’m going to enjoy watching you die.”
“Big words from a man tied to a chair.” But the tremor in his voice betrays his fear.
More footsteps overhead. Multiple sets are now moving with practiced coordination. The sound ignites something in my chest—not just hope but savage anticipation. Liv found my note and called the number. The thought of her fills me with renewed strength, memories of her determination fueling my own.
A third thump rings out, followed by the distinct sound of a body tumbling downstairs. The guards exchange panicked looks. Marcus’s face has gone pale.
I laugh, low and dark. “Tick tock, Marcus. Your time’s running out.”
The basement door explodes inward, and through my blurred vision, I see Declan’s imposing frame fill the entrance. Behind him, Nolan and Greyson fan out, their movements synchronized with military precision. A surge of hope wars with the pain racking my body.
But before they can reach me, Marcus moves with startling speed. His arm locks around my throat as he yanks me up from the chair, the zip ties snapping from the force. Cold metal presses against my temple, and I struggle to stay conscious as spots dance in my vision.
“One more step,” Marcus snarls, “and I paint the walls with his brain matter.”
Declan’s eyes narrow, calculating. “You’re surrounded, Marcus. This ends now.”
“Does it?” Marcus’s laugh holds an edge of desperation. “I’ve got the only bargaining chip that matters. Back off, or watch your friend die.”
I try to shift my weight to create an opening, but my body betrays me. The hours of torture have taken their toll, and Marcus’s grip is iron-tight.
“Always the coward,” I rasp, feeling the gun press harder. “Hiding behind others when things get tough.”
“Shut up.” Marcus’s voice trembles slightly. “I’ve waited years for this moment. To see you broken, helpless.”
Nolan takes a step forward, and Marcus jerks back, dragging me with him. “I said stay back!”
“You really think Ano will protect you after this?” My words come out rough, tasting of copper. “You’re nothing but a disposable pawn.”
“I earned my place!” The gun shakes against my temple. “All those years of watching you, reporting every move. While you played at being untouchable, I was there, learning your weaknesses.”
Greyson’s voice cuts through the tension. “Then you know he never forgives betrayal.”
“He trusts me,” Marcus insists, but uncertainty creeps into his tone.
I feel him flinch at my words. “How long before you outlive your usefulness?”
“I said shut up!” The arm around my throat tightens, making black spots dance across my vision.
I lock eyes with Declan, seeing the silent calculation in his gaze. My legs shake with fatigue, but I force myself to stay upright. One chance. That’s all they need.
“You know what your biggest mistake was, Marcus?” I manage through gritted teeth.
“What’s that?” He shifts his grip slightly.
“Thinking I’d die quietly.”
I hear the thundering of boots before I see them—five of Ano’s thugs charging down the basement stairs, weapons raised. The fluorescent light flickers, casting grotesque shadows as they spread out across the concrete floor.
“Looks like the cavalry’s here,” Marcus sneers, pressing the gun harder against my temple. “Drop your weapons, or he dies.”
Declan’s eyes scan the room, assessing. His stance shifts minutely—a predator preparing to strike. Beside him, Nolan and Greyson mirror his tension, their training evident in every controlled movement.
“Last chance,” one of the guards barks. “Weapons down!”
The basement air grows thick with anticipation. My heart pounds against my bruised ribs as I watch the deadly dance unfold. Declan’s gaze meets mine for a split second—a silent signal.
“Fine,” Marcus spits. “Kill them all—”
Declan moves like lightning. His elbow smashes into the nearest guard’s throat while Nolan and Greyson explode into action. Gunfire erupts, deafening in the confined space. I see Greyson take down two guards with surgical precision while Nolan engages the others in brutal hand-to-hand combat.
Marcus yanks me backward, cursing as Declan charges toward us. The gun at my temple vanishes as Marcus shoves me aside to meet Declan’s attack. I slam into the workbench, tools clattering to the floor as pain explodes through my already battered body.
Through blurred vision, I watch Marcus and Declan collide. Marcus fights with the desperate fury of a cornered animal, landing a crushing blow to Declan’s jaw. But Declan absorbs the hit, retaliating with a devastating combination that drives Marcus back.
“You’re dead,” Marcus snarls, blood spraying from his split lip. “All of you!”
The basement becomes a war zone. Nolan grapples with a massive guard near the stairs while Greyson systematically dismantles his opponents. Each impact echoes off the concrete walls, punctuated by grunts of pain and the crack of breaking bones.
Declan and Marcus trade savage blows, their fight a brutal demonstration of skill and raw power.
Marcus’s experience shows—he catches Declan with a vicious uppercut that rocks him back.
But Declan recovers, his military training evident as he presses forward, methodically breaking down Marcus’s defense.
My vision swims as I struggle to stay conscious, every breath sending daggers through my chest. The flickering light turns the violence into a nightmarish slideshow of blood and shadow. I force myself to focus, watching Marcus’s movements for any opening, any chance to turn the tide.
Marcus taunts between exchanges with Declan. “Now you get to watch everyone you care about die!”
Declan’s response is a devastating combination that sends Marcus staggering. “Keep talking,” he growls. “Makes it easier to hit you.”
Pain tears through my body as I grip the workbench, forcing myself upright. Every breath feels like razors in my lungs, but I lock my focus on Marcus’s fight with Declan. Blood drips from my body, and my vision blurs, threatening darkness.
Eve’s face blazes in my mind—that defiant tilt of her chin when she challenged me, the way her eyes sparked with determination even in her darkest moments. The memory of her strength floods my system with renewed purpose. She never backed down, never surrendered. Neither will I.
“Getting tired, sweetheart?” Marcus taunts Declan, landing a brutal hit that makes my friend stumble.
My fingers find a metal pipe on the work bench. Gripping it sends fire through my shredded wrists, but I welcome the pain. It keeps me present and focused.
“Come on,” I growl to myself, forcing my legs to steady. “Get up.”
Marcus slams Declan against the wall, and time slows as I watch Declan’s knees buckle.
“Should’ve stayed out of this,” Marcus snarls, drawing back for another strike.
The sight ignites something primal in my chest. Eight years of Marcus’s betrayal, his methodical dismantling of my life, his threats against Eve—it all crystallizes into pure rage.
My body screams in protest as I push off from the workbench. The room spins, but I lock onto Marcus’s exposed back. One chance. That’s all I need.
“Marcus!” I roar, launching forward with everything I have left.
The impact drives us both to the ground. I hear his grunt of surprise and feel the solid mass of him beneath me as we crash onto the concrete. The pipe clatters away, forgotten in the chaos.
“You never learn,” Marcus spits, trying to throw me off.
But I hold on, my bloodied fingers digging into his jacket. “Neither do you.”
The momentary distraction is all Declan needs. His boot connects with Marcus’s jaw in a devastating arc, and I feel the impact reverberate through both our bodies.
Marcus goes limp beneath me, and I collapse beside him, every muscle trembling from exertion. The blow had been lethal, and I felt frustrated that I wasn’t the one who ended it all. The basement’s flickering light paints shadows across his unconscious face as blood pools beneath his head.
“Took you long enough,” I manage through gritted teeth, looking up at Declan.
The room sways as Nolan and Greyson methodically dispatch the remaining guards. The sounds of combat fade into grunts and final thuds of bodies hitting concrete. My legs buckle, and Declan catches me before I crash to the floor. Every breath feels like glass in my lungs.
“Your ribs are probably broken,” Declan mutters, supporting my weight.
“Tell me,” I rasp, gripping his jacket. “Is Liv really up there with Ano?”
The silence that follows tells me everything. Nolan and Greyson exchange loaded glances, their faces grim.
“Fuck!” I try to push away from Declan, but my body betrays me. “We have to get to her. Now.”
“Remy—” Declan starts.
“I’m not leaving without Eve.” The words tear from my raw throat, tasting of copper and desperation. “You hear me? I won’t abandon her to that monster.”
Declan’s grip on me tightens. “We’ll come back for her. Right now, you’re our priority. You can barely stand.”
“I don’t care.” I struggle against his hold, ignoring the white-hot pain lancing through my chest. “He’ll kill her.”
“And you’ll die trying to reach her in this condition,” Declan snaps. “Nolan, Greyson—cover our exit. We’re moving.”
“No!” I throw my elbow back, catching Declan in the ribs. He grunts but doesn’t release me. “Let me go, damn it!”
“Stop fighting us,” Declan growls, wrestling me toward the stairs. “We’re not letting you commit suicide.”
My legs give out completely, and Declan has to drag me. Every movement sends fresh agony through my battered body, but I keep fighting. “She trusted me. I promised to protect her.”
“And you will,” Declan says, his voice hard. “But not like this. Not half-dead and running on rage. We will bring you out and in the car, and we’ll come back for Liv immediately.”
Darkness creeps in as exhaustion crashes over me in waves. Still, I curse and struggle, even as Declan’s iron grip holds me back from my own destruction.
“Eve,” I choke out, her name a prayer and a curse. “Please…”
But fatigue wins, pulling me under despite my desperate need to reach her.