Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
Watching in horror as Rose was buried alive by a pile of concrete, Steel found himself frozen.
The need to get to her, to do something, pulsed through his body, and yet he was unable to move.
“What the hell was that?” Lion asked, appearing out of nowhere.
Shoving the tablet at his friend, Steel wrenched open the door in the kitchen that led to the basement and hurried down the stairs.
Before he even reached the bottom of the steps, Thunder was there.
Thank goodness for enhanced speed, because he was going to need all of them to even stand a chance at saving Rose before it was too late.
“Was that the ceiling that fell?” Thunder asked.
“Rose.” That was all Steel could force out because it felt like his lungs had constricted, making it almost impossible to draw in enough oxygen to function.
Was she already dead?
Surely she had to be, how could a woman barely topping five-foot-two, hardly over one hundred pounds, possibly survive a pile of concrete crushing her?
“Thought she was doing tricks?” Thunder asked.
“She was. Only those tricks were trying to escape,” he muttered. “Basement. Now!” he screamed, knowing that Blade, with his superior hearing, would hear him no matter where he was in the mansion and gather the others.
“No way she survived that, man,” Lion said gently as they reached the basement and headed for the hidden door that led to another flight of stairs that would take them down to the underground cells.
Those cells weren't there when Eagle originally set them up with this place. The six of them had built them after moving in, although they’d always been intended for Ridge Gardner and the men and women who worked with him.
Not someone as small as Rose, so there had never been any consideration that anyone would try to escape through the ventilation system.
The underground cells were deep. It had taken them almost a year to dig out enough space under the building, while ensuring the mansion didn't collapse because of it. If it had occurred to him that Rose wouldn't be safe down there, he would have locked her in a bedroom.
Damn woman probably would have tried to throw herself out a window, though.
“Whoa,” Voodoo murmured as the rest of his team joined them at the bottom of the stairs.
Rose’s cell had been the one closest to the stairs. There were another eleven down there, then the room down the end. The torture room where they’d strung the little ladybug up and whipped her.
At the bottom of the stairs, a pile of concrete lay where the corridor leading between the two rows of cells should be. There was no way to know how bad things were because the concrete was completely blocking their entry.
“Find her,” Steel ordered as he began to grab chunks of concrete and toss them aside. Never in his life had he been as glad for his superior strength as he was in this moment.
At first, after they started the trial with Dr. Gardner, the extra strength had been kind of cool.
Until he and his team started becoming consumed with rage and suicidal thoughts, and they learned that enhancing their skills wasn't the only thing Dr. Gardner had done. Then he’d resented the changes because they’d been lied to.
If he’d known the extent of what the doctor had planned, he never would have agreed to be a guinea pig.
Now their skills could be the only thing that saved Rose’s life.
The little ladybug wasn't dying minutes before he was going to feed her, knock her out, and return her to her home.
“She’s got to be dead,” Dragon announced, and Steel spun on the man. Dragon was his friend, his brother in every way that mattered, but he was also the only one who had wanted to keep torturing Rose in the hopes that they could lure her brother in.
“You want her dead, don’t you?” He snarled as he shoved his friend up against the closest wall. His hands clamped around Dragon’s neck, and while the other man was strong, no one was a match for Steel’s enhanced strength.
“Don’t care one way or the other,” Dragon rasped, the words barely able to pass through the tight hold he had on the man’s neck. “You shouldn’t either.”
“And if it was Cassandra in there?” Voodoo asked, and Dragon’s dark blue, almost violet-colored eyes all but shot daggers at him.
“That’s what I thought. Is Steel falling for Rose Gardner inconvenient? Sure as hell it is. But it is what it is. Deal with it. Not like the woman has done anything wrong. She’s only twenty-three, which means she was only thirteen years old when her brother turned us into monsters,” Voodoo ranted.
Defiance still danced in Dragon’s purple eyes, and Steel was sorely tempted to tighten his grip just a tiny bit more and snap the man’s neck.
It was like he was possessed, protective rage consumed him, and he deemed anything that wanted to get in the way of him and his little ladybug as a threat. Even one of his men.
“I hear something,” Blade announced, and Steel threw Dragon to the side, pleased when he heard a thump and a grunt of pain.
“What?” he demanded, striding over to where Blade was standing at the top of the small opening Steel had made by throwing chunks of concrete out of the way.
“Breathing,” Blade replied.
“She’s not dead.” Steel wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement, but it was all he needed to push past his friend and begin throwing more concrete out of his path. If Rose was still alive, nothing was going to stop him from getting to her.
The others all began to help. They might not have his strength, but they were still men who worked out hours a day and had the bodies to prove it.
Each second felt like an hour.
Each minute a day.
“There,” Lion suddenly called out.
They’d all been clearing away the debris from where Blade had indicated he could hear Rose’s breathing, now they hyper-focused on that area.
“You can still hear her?” Steel asked Blade, who nodded. “And you’re sure that’s where she is?” he asked Lion, who also nodded. When he looked at Dragon, the man huffed, but gave a single, sharp nod.
“Yeah, I can smell her blood, and it’s coming from right where they said,” Dragon said, although he didn't sound pleased about it.
Steel, on the other hand, found himself more than pleased to see a small amount of blood streaking his friend’s face.
In comparison, the thought of Rose’s blood …
He couldn’t even think about it.
With renewed efforts, he tossed concrete aside, leaving it to the others to move further out of their way.
All he cared about was finding the little ladybug and getting her out.
Knowing she was alive but trapped, buried alive, made him feel sick, and he could only imagine how much worse it was for Rose if she was conscious.
Conscious meant a better chance of living, but it also meant she was suffering, and at the way his heart hammered in his chest, Steel realized he wasn't so distorted to not feel empathy as he’d been led to believe.
“Careful, we’re close,” Blade cautioned, and Steel tried to do as his friend instructed.
When he glimpsed a lock of dusty red hair, he froze. She was there, close enough to touch, but he was worried any move he made was only going to make things worse.
“We got this,” Voodoo said softly, and when he glanced up, he saw all five men watching him. They all offered reassuring nods, even Dragon.
Moving more slowly, Steel carefully continued moving concrete until he uncovered Rose’s body. She was curled in on herself, in the fetal position, mostly on her side. There were smudges of blood mixed with the dirt from the concrete, and the beginnings of what would be some pretty horrific bruises.
As he shifted away the last chunk of concrete, tossing it effortlessly to the side, he saw wide green eyes looking at him.
“How did you do that?” she croaked, before her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out.
Guess the cat was out of the bag now.
Although that was a worry for another time.
Gathering her into his arms, Steel growled possessively when Voodoo moved to take possession of the small woman he was cradling close.
“I got her,” he snapped, not able to put into words how badly he needed to feel her tiny body in his arms. Then he fixed his friend with a death stare.
Never would he have guessed he would threaten one of his brothers, the men he’d relied on for everything this last decade.
But never had he uttered words he meant more than the next ones he spoke. “You’d better save her life.”
December 27th
1:01 P.M.
Pain.
Darkness.
Threatening to pull her under.
No.
Can't.
Helpless.
Vulnerable.
Have to fight.
The words tumbled through Rose’s mind as she felt her body floating.
That couldn’t be right.
She wasn't doing any tumbling, and she didn't really have wings.
If she did, she would have flown away from her life a long time ago.
Found some remote little spot on a mountain somewhere where no one would ever find her.
Thanks to her upbringing, she knew how to survive with nothing.
Could build her own shelter, dig herself a well or utilize a stream, hunt for food, and grow some of her own.
She could even make her own clothes, there was no reason she couldn’t live completely self-sufficiently.
That way she’d never have to see another person ever again.
Damn, she hated people. Nothing good ever came from being around people.
Darkness washed over her, taking her away with it into a place that was blissfully free of pain.
Until it wasn't. A moan fell from her lips as she was jostled.
“Don’t hurt her,” a voice snarled.
Wait. She knew that voice.
It almost sounded like … Mr. Bedroom Man. Only …
Why would he care if anyone hurt her? After all, that was the exact reason he and his friends abducted her. They wanted to hurt her. They had hurt her.
Except afterward, he’d told her that they fixed what they broke, then knocked her out so he could tend to her wounds and rehydrate her.