Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
DARIO
My glasses sit precariously on my nose as the lock slides to the left, and my hand presses down the handle to open it.
“We’re in,” I breathe, straightening and pulling the heavy door slowly. Others walk inside to begin to clear the building, but I pull my weapon and follow Verona with Pablo beside us.
If she has a line on our girl, I’m going to trust her to find Rosalia. I don’t have to understand what she sees to know there is a special relationship to different bonds. Nico has been feeling everything that’s happening to Rosalia.
Ciro keeps rubbing his chest, and I expect it feels like a boulder sitting on it. I’m filled with dread and the sense that I’m not doing enough, despite the contrary.
When bad shit happens, sometimes you just have to wait for a break in the clouds, and that’s what this is.
The warehouse seems abandoned, not simply empty.
People were once here, but seem to have left in a hurry.
There’s trash in the garbage cans, water randomly splashed on the ground, and cages.
It’s the cages that make Pablo, Verona, and I flinch in pain.
I don’t know if there were other captives here with Rosalia, but they’re all gone now.
Pablo is careful to keep his eyes moving as we walk, his weapon already in his hand as we search for signs of life. Instead, the place is as quiet as a tomb until we reach the middle of the building. Here, it’s as if a bubble of silence pops, and the sounds of laughter begin.
Verona’s hands raise with her gun between them, and she shoots the first man she sees as they surround some kind of table. Not one of them is innocent, as is evident as we move closer. They all have knives in their hands or nearby, and two of them are fucking a body from either end.
Wet squishing sounds mix with their laughter, and Pablo and I also begin to shoot, even as horror makes my heart beat faster.
I can’t think about how this is Rosalia as I shoot the man who decided it was a good idea to stick his cock in her mouth. Her head falls onto the table with a thunk as the man falls back, while Pablo continues to shoot in rapid succession.
It’s a quick death none of these men deserve.
“Die!” The two men still sitting mindlessly begin stabbing Rosalia wherever they can, not bothering to run. Verona’s bullets stop them mid-motion, and they both slump forward.
Pablo and I rip them off Rosalia, and then I have the very real problem of pulling a dead alpha’s dick out of my omega.
The only saving grace is that he didn’t have a chance to knot her, otherwise I might have hurt her while having to figure out how to get a dead alpha’s inflated knot out of her body.
Contrary to popular belief, a knot doesn’t deflate when the person it belongs to dies.
Fuck, none of this is even mildly okay, and the entire table is the shit of nightmares.
More blood seems to be on the ground than is possible, and I know a lot of it belongs to her. I need to move quickly, and revenge will have to be pulled from the person who sold Rosalia to these men, who is unfortunately not here.
These men were simply the avenue that was used to potentially kill her, and I won’t allow it to happen. None of us will. Verona is already trying to keep Rosa’s soul tethered to her body as she squats beside her to speak in her ear.
All of us have a job to do, even if we are winging it.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, my first instinct is to call for help.
I don’t have anything to staunch the blood flow, and I can’t risk making anything worse.
There are still knives embedded in her body, and she’s barely breathing.
While Verona speaks to Rosa, Pablo continues to turn slowly around the room, covering us.
He’s come a long way from being the weak link in the room who is more likely to need to be saved than actually do the saving. I’m really proud of him.
“We found her,” I say as soon as Easton picks up. “She’s not good, Easton. I don’t have any medical supplies—”
“Riley and Carter are in the building with you. Scream out their names, and they’ll come. I’m headed your way. I’ll clear the path for you to get out without having to answer any questions,” he says.
Ending the call, I take a deep breath and scream. Pablo follows my lead, yelling Riley and Carter’s names at the top of our lungs. Footsteps pound on the concrete toward us, and I close my mouth in relief as they arrive.
“Okay,” Riley whispers, eyes wide and full of horror as he yanks his medical bag over his head in jerky motions.
Based on his actions, you’d think he was about to defuse a bomb, and in a way, you wouldn’t be wrong.
Taking a deep breath, he continues to talk to us as well as himself as he decides the best course of action.
“Don’t remove the knives, Carter, but pack the wounds. ”
Carter and he pull on gloves and begin to work together to treat Rosalia. Verona continues to speak to our omega in whispers, begging her to hold on as tears run down her face. Sucking in a breath, I rub my face as my eyes burn.
All I can keep telling myself is that she’s alive. There’s blood running down her legs from being violated, two knives still embedded in her body as if she’s a hunk of meat, and suddenly my pep talk isn't all that reassuring.
I don’t know how we’re supposed to help her move past this.
Not to mention the trauma we’re facing or the fact that my brother may not come back from going feral.
He’s laying outside on the ground, unconscious due to the pain he felt from Rosalia.
I can’t imagine how he managed to stay on his feet for this long after seeing some of the damage inflicted on Rosalia.
“Dario.”
My name pulls me out of my thoughts like a gun shot, and I gasp as I take a breath. Somehow, I’d stopped fucking breathing.
So damn stupid. Get it together.
Pep talks don’t do fuck all for me as I step forward to see Rosalia’s body looks like a mummy.
Pulling a knife from my belt, I put my gun away and begin to cut the leather cuffs holding Rosalia’s arms and legs to the table.
They’re locked in a way that I can’t open, and this is the easiest way to cut her loose.
“Yes,” I rasp, needing to say something.
“I’m going to have you carry her out. What’s the plan for treatment? I’m not going to be able to stitch all of these wounds up myself in the speed it’ll be needed. We need the hospital,” Riley says.
“No hospital,” Verona whispers, pulling her phone from her pocket as she stands. She takes a photo and sends it to someone, watching the screen as she waits for a response. “Dr. Walsh will meet us at our home in the next fifteen minutes. He’ll help you sew her up.”
“Who the fuck is that?” Riley asks, pulling a thermal blanket from his bag to cover Rosalia with.
I ignore the blood as Riley carefully lifts her body, and I take her from him so I can cradle her.
Her body trembles as she shivers from shock, and her skin is clammy where I can touch it.
She’s on her stomach and the hold is awkward, but it’ll allow us to move.
“Her personal physician,” Verona grunts, her footsteps falling into place as I begin walking. Pablo is at my side, his hands lifting her legs so they don’t hang, and we work together by turning sideways to get through doorways.
Easton jogs up to us as we move swiftly, and he asks us status questions so we won’t need to deal with the police. After hoping and waiting, everything feels as if it’s moving faster than humanly possible.
“We’re taking her home,” Verona explains. “Her physician agreed to treat her there.”
“I don’t know who the fuck this person is,” Riley growls as he trails us. “How do we know he’s reputable?”
“The old man’s conscience weighs heavily and insists that he not fail Rosalia,” Pablo mutters. “He’s very good with a needle and thread. If you can’t get behind this, then you’re part of the problem.”
“He’s right, Riley. This isn’t going any other way,” Easton says.
“Fuck. I’ll go with you,” he promises as we walk out of the building.
“I’ll make sure the police do their job and take care of the crime scene,” Easton promises.
“There’s a lot of blood, Easton,” I rasp. “Make sure no one takes any of it.”
Swallowing hard at the implication of my words, he shoves open the outer door and holds it so that we can pass through. There’s a lot of anomalies in Rosalia’s blood that people could want to duplicate. Despite what others have done, she’s not a goddamned science experiment.
“I’ll take care of it. I’ll come by your house later. The police commissioner is barking at me for inappropriate use of resources.”
“Fuck him,” Verona grunts. I blink at her words even as my lips twitch. Maybe she’s not as much of a Disney princess as we all pretend she is.
“He’s got a pimpled ass. I’d much rather not,” Easton says, trying and failing at levity. “Be safe, guys. Rosalia, stop scaring everyone, sweetheart. Show everyone how strong you are.”
In a very short amount of time, she’s become important to a lot of people. My feet move us away from the warehouse of horrors, and I can see Nico holding his head in his hands as he sits on the ground.
“We’re out!!” I yell, heading out to the street where our car is. Riley is already running ahead of us with Pablo to get the trunk situated for Rosalia, and I have to fight through the waves of gratitude I feel.
We have friends, even if they didn’t like us to start with. I have to admit we don’t deserve them, but I plan to some day be worthy of their kindness.
Verona takes Pablo’s place to hold our omega’s legs while Ciro helps Nico to his feet. Somehow, my brother finds a way to run toward us, breathing hard as his trembling fingers search for a pulse at Rosalia’s throat.
She’s all bundled up like a reflective burrito, but it’s keeping her safe until we can get her help.
“If you felt even a tenth of this, I don’t know how you’re alive,” I confess.
“She was stabbed?” Nico asks. He can’t see what’s underneath the layers of material.
I nod and he takes a deep breath as he changes places with Verona so she can speak to the doctor.
The world is moving in a series of starts and stops as we walk toward the SUV, and I have to shake my head to clear it.
My brain is having trouble following everything that’s happening, because too much of it is occupied by the omega in my arms.
Nico’s shoulders relax slightly as he touches Rosa’s skin, and I can feel her breathing, even though it’s shallow and stuttering. Nico and I climb into the trunk of the SUV where Riley and Pablo put down plastic sheeting to help catch any blood still sluggishly flowing.
Ciro gets into the driver seat as Verona gets into the backseat with Riley, and then we’re headed home while I have her laid across my body to keep the knives from shifting.
Nico and I hold pressure on the wounds through the layers on top of her, and I continue to check her pulse while my heart pounds with anxiety.
Time moves funny once we arrive at the house, and Dr. Walsh helps us place Rosalia onto a stretcher before we’re rushing into the house. We decide to sacrifice the kitchen table that was left by the last owners and bring it into the living room, transferring Rosalia’s body onto it.
“I hope you have a better place for her to recover,” Dr. Walsh grumbles as he begins removing the layers covering her body. “It’s also too cold in here, turn up the temperature. I’m going to need you to order some equipment for Rosalia’s recovery as well and to check for any internal bleeding.”
“Give me the list,” I reply, pulling up the notes section of my phone as he rattles off what he’ll need. It’s a myriad of hospital monitoring equipment that’ll allow us to turn our home into a place where she can get better.
The old man is welcome to fuss over our girl as long as it means he helps keep her with us.
Pablo moves to do as he suggests, and Ciro and I leave the room to prepare the bedroom for Rosalia.
I don’t waste my breath explaining why the house isn’t ready, or offer any platitudes.
Instead, I order a bed frame for the room to arrive in the next hour, begin opening bedsheet packages to launder, and get to work.
I need something to do while Dr. Walsh and Riley irrigate wounds and stitch a woman I’ve come to love back together. I don’t have the expertise to help her, but I can order shit and wash bedsheets while Ciro sweeps and mops out the wood floor in the bedroom.
The mattress in that room is propped up in the hallway while we work, the sole item that was in there. While some would argue that we could have Rosalia rest in her nest, I don’t want to taint her space with the memories of her kidnapping and attack, nor do I want anyone to know where her nest is.
We may trust Dr. Walsh, but Rosalia deserves to have her secrets and privacy. That’s what I choose to focus on as I move around our house like a ghost, because I know Rosalia will come back to us.
It’s the only option. And while we wait, I’ll make sure she has a pack waiting for her as I take care of everyone the best I can.