Chapter 57
Aftermath
Rhys
My fist slams into the side of Mark’s face, causing the older man to grunt and stagger back.
Blood drips from his broken nose, split lips and various cuts and bruises on his face and jaw. He looks thoroughly beaten, his eyes so swollen I’m not sure he can see out of them, and his breathing laboured. His limbs tremble so hard that he’s seconds from collapsing to the ground, again.
It still isn’t enough.
After everything that’s happened, after everything he’s done, he deserves nothing less than to suffer.
I want him crying and begging for mercy, for him to be so overcome with agony that he can barely string two words together.
I want him to experience even a fraction of the pain, terror and misery he’s inflicted on others, on the people I love and care for.
On Ollie.
With a growl, I kick out and slam my boot into Mark’s stomach. His breath rushes out with a pained wheeze, and his body gives up the fight, collapsing to the ground. But even beaten and almost broken, he still doesn’t beg.
Cold, hard rage slams into me as I stalk over to his crumpled form. The fighting around us has thinned out dramatically, with dead bodies littering the ground. The only ones left alive are my friends and allies and the handful of enemies still left to die.
Mark spits out blood and stares up at me in defiance as I stop in front of him. “Do you seriously think killing me and Luke will end this? Will stop others from attacking Haven?” he asks, sounding far too amused for a man whose face looks like minced meat.
I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to save face, to take back control of the situation.
Too bad for him, I’m not about to let that happen.
I scoff at his question. “Of course not.” I crouch next to him, grab his salt and pepper hair and wrench his head back.
He hisses at the pain but doesn’t struggle.
Not that he could, considering how fucked up he is.
“I’m not so na?ve to think killing either of you will stop greedy assholes from trying to take what isn’t theirs.
Or from trying to possess human beings like they’re toys for their amusement. ”
My fist tightens in his hair, and I move closer to whisper into his ear.
“But just like you and the disgusting pieces of shit you brought with you, they’ll fail.
And then they’ll get to watch the silly little empire they tried to build crumble beneath their feet.
” My smile is ice-cold and savage as I lean back from him.
Mark’s lips pull back into a snarl and he struggles in my hold, but just like I expected, he’s as weak as a lamb.
I laugh in his face. “Maybe I’ll keep you alive so you’ll have a front-row seat to witness it.”
A string of curses fly from his lips, all of them directed at me, but I’m done with him.
My bloodlust is sated regardless of his lack of begging, and now I want to see Ollie and my friends and make sure they’re okay.
Cocking my other hand back, I clock his temple with my fist and he drops like a sack of shit, out cold.
I drop his body into the mud, stand and survey my surroundings for the first time since the fight began.
Anthony and Colin stand side by side, covered in blood with bodies surrounding them.
Off to the side is Tobias, who’s holding a gun to a terrified-looking Elsa while Rachel leans casually against the wall beside them.
Harlow and a preening Ketchup are beside them.
Theo and Alex are finishing the last of the stragglers—mostly infected—and appear unharmed.
Although Theo is heavily favouring his uninjured side, and there’s a permanent grimace on his face as he fights.
Everyone else is either unconscious or dead.
My heart stutters at that realisation. Where the fuck is Ollie?
I stride forward, frantically scanning every body lying in the dirt, but I don’t see the familiar chestnut hair of my girl. Frigid fear drips down my spine.
“Ollie?” I shout as I whirl around. “Princess?”
There’s no reply, and now everyone has their attention on me, frowns deepening with horror when they realise the same thing I have.
Ollie is missing.
Everyone explodes into action. Theo and Alex curse as they finish the last of the infected before hurrying—or limping in Theo’s case—over to me.
“You haven’t seen her?” Alex asks, eyes frantic as he looks around the battlefield.
“No, I was busy dealing with Mark.” Although I’m regretting spending so much time with the bastard while Ollie has been missing. “Have either of you?”
They shake their heads.
Fuck.
“Fan out and check everybody,” I order, raising my voice so everyone hears before marching off to do just that.
I barely acknowledge the thick stench of rot, blood and death or the cold, dead eyes of the bodies as I flip every one I come across.
Most are Scourge or Lodge guys who forced their way into the fight after it’d started, but there are more than a few dead infected amongst the corpses.
Each body I inspect and don’t recognise has my stomach knotting tighter and tighter with dread.
What if someone took her during the fight? Or she turned and wandered off into Haven?
The mere thought of that makes me sick.
I swallow back bile and force my attention back to searching the bodies. There’s no point worrying about those kinds of things until we’ve searched the battlefield and still haven’t found her. Until then, I’ll keep looking and hoping to find her alive.
But with each new corpse that hope is dwindling.
“Over here!” Anthony shouts from the outskirts of the battle.
I snap around so fast, it leaves me dizzy for a moment, and race over to where Anthony is kneeling. He’s pulling a brutalised corpse upwards with a grimace, blood and guts spilling from the body. For one heart-stopping moment, I think the corpse is Ollie. Until I see the face.
Luke.
My breath whooshes out of me at the sight, and I turn my attention to the person lying beneath the corpse.
Relief crashes into me at seeing Ollie’s chestnut hair, tangled and splayed out around her like a halo, and I drop to my knees.
Her chest moves, meaning she’s alive, but it’s hard to see if she’s injured beneath the blood and gore coating her body.
“Ollie? Princess?” I crawl closer to her as Anthony moves away.
Those emerald eyes blink open, hazy with pain and terror, but she’s alive. “Rhys?” she croaks, her voice sounding like she gargled rocks.
My gaze flicks to her neck and to the heavy bruising encircling her throat.
Rage bubbles up in my chest, and I swallow a growl at the sight.
If Luke wasn’t dead, I’d make the bastard suffer for what he did to her.
But now isn’t the time to think about that.
Ollie needs care and softness, not my cold, hard rage.
I shuffle closer and smooth the hair from her face. “Yeah, princess, it’s me. Are you hurting anywhere?”
“My neck.” She reaches up with a trembling, blood-covered hand to encircle her throat. “He… he choked me.”
My jaw clenches at her admission, but I keep my touch light against her face and hair. “Alright, princess. We’ll have the doc look at you soon and give you the good meds.”
“Luke… is he…?” She tapers off, her eyes haunted.
“He’s dead. You got him,” I tell her. “He’ll never hurt anyone else again.”
Her eyes close, although I’m not sure if it’s from guilt, pain or relief.
“Ollie!” Theo shouts as he throws himself down onto the ground beside us.
Alex is right behind him. “Sweetheart,” he chokes in a thick voice.
I move away, giving them the chance to move closer. Theo cups the side of her face while Alex takes her bloodied hand into his and cradles it like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Ollie’s eyes flutter open, her gaze swirling with so many emotions it’s hard to pick them out.
“Theo, Alex,” she croaks as a tear runs down her cheek. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah, baby, we’re fine,” Theo says as he strokes her cheek.
“And everyone else?”
“Everybody is fine, sweetheart,” Alex says. “You’re the one who looks to be in the worst condition.”
Ollie blows out a breath and nods. “Good, and I’m not—” She cuts off to cough with a wince. “I’m not that bad. Just sore.”
The three of us exchange sceptical looks but don’t say anything. As much as I’d love to baby her and carry her to the medical centre, we’re still in the middle of a war and there are enemies who need to be taken care of.
As if reading my mind, Ollie pulls her hand from Alex’s grip and, with her palms planted on the ground, shoves herself upright.
“We should get moving and make the most of the gangs losing their leadership,” she says, her voice tight with pain.
Theo and I scramble to support her back as she sways while Alex shifts to support her head and neck with a large hand.
“We will, but you’re in no shape to move yet,” I tell her with a frown.
She waves me off. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”
Theo makes a noise in the back of his throat and glares at her.
“If you think you’re going back to fighting after all this, you’re sorely mistaken.
Your body is still recovering from you almost being choked to death.
” He pauses to grind his teeth together at that statement. “You need more than a minute.”
Alex grunts in agreement, his hand tightening on the back of her head. Apparently, all three of us are on the same page.
Ollie huffs, then winces when the movement jars her bruised neck. Her eyes—still hazy from pain—flick between the three of us before moving to where Luke’s body lies. Her gaze lingers on him, and the blood drains from her face when she sees the state he’s in.
It’s… not a pleasant sight.
She swallows hard, averts her eyes, and tenses in our hold. “You’re right.” She sounds so defeated and hollow, almost like she did when she realised she’d killed that man to save my life.
I hate it.