46
COOPER
When Ezla falls perfectly still, my heart stops. My face goes slack, and I think, What kind of sickness has my mind conjured up now? Have I not been through enough shit, so it has to plague me with nightmares, too?
But this isn’t inside my head.
It’s a nightmare, yes.
But it’s a real one.
“Vengeance!” my unfettered bellow is a chorus with all the other men’s panicked voices as I lunge forwards, no one worried about crowding our Bonded now when she’s fucking gone!
My eyes sear into Scotty’s fingers as they shake with the force of a damn earthquake when they search for a pulse on her neck.
I also don’t miss that after Tate’s initial roar, he’s fallen utterly soundless and motionless, but I don’t have the capacity to worry about the larger man when all of that particular gut-wrenching emotion is lasered in on our girl.
One second . . .
two seconds . . .
three . . .
Scotty’s shoulders slump, and he lets out a choked breath of relief, encouraging the deflation of my own lungs. “She’s okay. She’s alive.”
Holy shit. Thanking the fucking stars, any possible higher power that comes to mind even though I don’t believe. I run my gloved hands over my face, heart slowing just marginally.
That’s it, though. This has tipped me over the edge. I’m not doing this anymore.
I almost lost her. My woman.
I almost fucking lost her, and she doesn’t even know how I feel. Hell, I didn’t until just recently. Maybe not until right this fucking moment. I’m not the best with feelings and shit like that unless it’s negative, so I can be pretty bloody blind, I’ll admit.
And I am done not knowing everything about the woman I love. She’s not okay. And it’s time we all found out why.
But I’m almost certain I’ve figured some sickening shit out already, things I don’t know how to possibly get Vengeance to talk about when her walls are more impenetrable than taalk, and what I suspect is so dark it’ll make my own abuse look like child’s play.
No more hiding after this, HC. I’m getting you better—and then we’re getting our answers.