Chapter Thirty-Two
Margo
“Who is Red Snake to you?”
I looked up from my lap. Gordon was back. This time, more disheveled. It had only been maybe fifteen minutes, and during that time, I had broken free of the zip ties and had flipped over the cot, looking for anything to protect myself with.
Gordon’s control was slipping. His jaw was tight, his hair no longer combed back but hanging on his forehead, his face flushed with anger.
“Margo!” he barked when I pursed my lips. “Who is Red Snake and why did they just blow up my Lambo?”
“Your worst nightmare,” I answered with a glare.
There was a crack in his facade, a flicker of fear. “So you do know them?”
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, not giving him any more. He would have to beat me, and even then, I wouldn’t do anything to put Hayes and his team in danger.
Gordon rushed over and grabbed my arm, yanking me to his chest. “Don’t play games with me, babe. You know how I hate that shit.”
“I hate you,” I sneered.
Gunshots echoed from the hallway, the sound of men crying out for mercy following. My eyes lifted to meet his, finding nothing but hatred and greed in them. “Get your hand off me,” I ordered softly. “Or he’ll rip it off your body.”
With a growl, he turned and slammed me against the wall. My head hit the concrete hard, pain shooting across every inch of my skull as he called me a bitch and every other name in the book. After all this time, one would think he’d get more creative. “You’re mine, Margo! You’ve always been mine.”
“Get…fucked!” I yelled, kneeing him in the crotch.
He started to drop, and I seized my opportunity, grabbing the sides of his hair and bringing my knee up again.
It connected with his nose, and I relished the sound of the satisfying crack followed by his wail of pain.
He landed on his back, and I jumped over him, my eyes on the door.
Behind me, I heard that familiar, awful sound—a monstrous growl rushing out from his chest. Chills skated down my arms and back, my head pounding in time with my heart as I ran across the room.
His hand clamped around my ankle.
No.
No!
I landed on the cold floor with a harsh grunt and immediately flipped to my back, kicking at him. “Let me go!”
“Did you honestly think I’d let you live a life without me in it?” he taunted, rising over me and pinning me down. Blood from his nose landed on my face as I struggled underneath him, bucking and kicking. “I own you, babe. You were never going to get away from me.”
I planted my foot on the ground and stilled, chest heaving as I glared up at him. “And you’re a fool if you thought, even for a moment, that was true,” I snapped.
His cocky chuckle slithered over me. “Well—”
I shot my head up, hitting him in the nose again as I pushed off my planted foot and rolled.
He was on his back then, both hands cupping his now broken nose.
I got to my feet and kicked him in the crotch again.
He curled into himself, crying out. My broken soul ignited at the sight of him in pain at my feet.
I stepped back, took a breath, swung my foot back, and kicked him again.
This time in the kneecap. Another crunch.
“You always hated when I wore Docs,” I taunted, swinging my foot back. “You hated when I wore anything that made me feel powerful—beautiful.”
Kick.
“You stole me from myself.”
Kick.
My voice got louder. “You told me I would never amount to anything without you!”
Kick.
“And you know what? For a while there?” I laughed and pushed my hair out of my face. I moved up to his stomach. “For a long time, I believed you.”
Kick.
“Then I found myself, and I fucking love the woman I’ve become.”
Kick.
“I’m the one with the power here! Not you, you rotten son of a fucking bitch.”
Things got fuzzy then, rage taking over in a way I’d never experienced.
Everything around me was red, blood red, consuming every part of my being, my breaths coming harder.
My body was vibrating with anger, my soul on fire, scorching the last remains of scar tissue, freeing me.
I just kept kicking him, his cries and shouts filling my ears as the alarm blared throughout whatever hellhole he’d brought me to.
Another cage. Another prison. Eventually, I dropped to my knees and started hitting him.
My fists pounded into him—wherever I could get a hit in.
My body began to ache, but my spirit was just getting started.
I was screaming at him, but the words weren’t coherent.
It was just a string of rage, floating out of my voice box.
There was a new presence surrounding me then.
Warm.
Not like the fire consuming me.
A gentle promise of truth singing out through a sea of lies.
“Temper.”
My arms started to slow.
“Temper, beautiful, stop.” The gentle but firm voice filled my ear, weighing me down.
Strong bands of muscle surrounded me then, pulling me back against a solid chest, a steady heartbeat underneath, against my shoulder.
My hands were brought to my front, and I folded them together, ignoring the sting in my knuckles.
“Deep breaths for me now,” the voice instructed. “Inhale.”
“I hate him,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“He robbed me of myself,” I continued, my vision starting to clear. Gordon was being hauled up, his face bloody and bruised. “He stole years of my life.”
“I need those deep breaths from you, Margo,” Hayes murmured, his finger trailing the underside of my jaw.
The red was gone, but my heart was still thundering in my ears. “But—”
“Baby, I can hear your heart.” He cut me off softly. “Give me two.”
I gave him two, and moments later, when my heart rate was slowing and my skin had stopped tingling, reality set in. Everything came rushing back to me. “He shot Jake,” I croaked, dropping my head.
“Jake is fine. He’s okay. We’re going to go see him in a bit.”
I lifted my head and turned to him. His green eyes pierced mine through his mask, a black skull-shaped covering with silver wings etched around the eyes that stretched back over his temples.
“Why are you wearing a mask?” I whispered, putting my hands on his chest. My eyes dropped then, taking in his attire.
He was dressed for a mission—for war. My eyes bounced back and forth between the AR-15 poking over his shoulder and the pistol strapped to his thigh.
“I just had to do some bad things to some bad people,” he answered, chewing his gum.
I reached up and lightly touched the chin of his mask. “Well, I just beat the living shit out of my ex-boyfriend, so I really don’t have any room to judge.”
The love of my life flashed me a smile then. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t filled with the love I usually saw from him. No, this smile was cold, wicked, and proud. “I saw.”
I looked over my shoulder, finding blood splattered all over the concrete floor, but no Gordon.
“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself.
His hands came to my hair then, twisting a lock of it between his fingers as he answered.
“I want to. Anyone who hurts you doesn’t have the right to breathe.
” My stomach twisted. His warm hand cupped my jaw then, turning me to face him as his other arm gave me a squeeze.
“But I also know the woman I love has certain feelings about that.”
I pressed my lips together, my eyes stinging. “You can’t kill for me.”
“I’d do anything for you,” he whispered after lifting his mask up. Scanning his face, I took in his tired eyes, his frown, and the scuff that had been covering his jaw since the night he kicked down my door.
“You haven’t shaved,” I muttered, eyes on his lips. “You used to shave.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Do you…do you want me to shave?”
“I don’t know yet.”
His lips twitched, humor painting his face. “You’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met.”
I gave him a tight, weak smile. “I know.”
A throat cleared behind me. I twisted in Hayes’ lap and tipped my head back, finding Grayson, Dominic, and Ash in the room.
“’Sup?” I called.
Grayson shook his head, a soft chuckle leaving him.
Ash lifted his chin to me. “You hear that explosion earlier?”
I shook my head, and his brows snapped together. He folded his arms over his chest and looked at his feet. “Government issued, my ass.”
Dominic tipped his head to me. “You good?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“We’ll get a doctor to check out your hands at the hospital,” Grayson added.
“What?” I looked down, finding my knuckles split and bleeding. “Oh.”
“What are we doing about Gordon?” Ash asked, looking into the hall. “Cuffs or grave?”
A lump formed in my throat, my moral compass spinning out of control. “Is it that simple for you guys?”
Grayson moved, crouching down in front of Hayes and me. He looked over my shoulder for a moment and then back down to me. “It seems easy because it’s our job, but taking a life, no matter how corrupt, is never easy.”
The lump formed spikes, and I stopped trying to swallow. “Gordon is a bad man.”
Hayes said nothing, remaining still against my back.
“I can’t let Hayes or any of you kill him. I can’t have that on my conscience.” I told them all the truth.
A long, pain-filled groan came from the hall then. Dominic slowly turned his head to the side and down, staring as the groans turned into coughs. Dominic inhaled deeply, his chest rising and expanding as he looked over to us once more. “He needs to go to the hospital too.”
“What?” I blurted. “Why?”
“Judging by the sound of his breathing and the increase in coughs, he might have a broken rib.” He paused as Ash started chuckling. “Or three.”
“Holy shit. I broke his ribs,” I rasped.
“And his spirit, undoubtedly,” Grayson tacked on, rising again. He held out his hand to me and helped me to my feet. “Come on, the fire department and local PD need to do their thing.”