Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Luna
My foot bleeds a lot at first. The cuts are pretty deep, but eventually the bleeding slows. It was incredibly uncomfortable, but I was able to bend my knees enough to tuck my feet under my butt, offering a little pressure. For the first time ever, my fat ass is good for something.
The irony doesn’t escape me.
For now, I’ve kept the rats at bay but I see them. They keep mostly to the perimeter but they’re watching me. The puddle of blood must attract them or something, so I’ve rolled to a different part of the room.
I’m going to be pissed if I can’t wear heels after this because the area of my toes that he sliced becomes too sensitive. I really fucking love heels. Especially now that I have a man tall enough for me to wear them.
Of course, that would assume I’m going to live long enough to see him again.
Fuck.
I’m exhausted, my mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, and I really have to pee. If I don’t get rescued soon, I’m going to piss all over myself, which is strangely the least of my worries at the moment.
I don’t know how I’m going to survive, but I’ll fight to the very end. If working at Shadow Security taught me anything, it’s that.
I’ve also had a lot of conversations with Allora about what she went through when she was kidnapped.
She focused all her strength on surviving long enough to get revenge, and with the things they did to her, I have to be at least half that strong.
She made it. After everything that happened, she managed to come out the other side, mostly no worse for wear.
If she can, I can too.
My Shadow Security family deserves a colleague who shows strength during adversity.
And Elliott deserves a woman who won’t give up. Not on him, and not on herself.
I close my eyes, figuring I should rest now, before I’m too weak to fight off those stupid rats, but then a sound upstairs makes them pop open again.
Is Garth back already? He’s only been gone a couple of hours.
Dammit.
I thought I’d have more time.
I should have rolled myself to the work bench. I don’t know what else is there since I think Garth took the knife with him, but it’s too late now. I just—
“Luna! Luna, are you here? It’s Silver!”
Silver?
I blink for a second, and then I scream.
“I’m down here! I’m here!” My heart is thundering, and I sit up straight, looking toward the door.
Someone fumbles with it on the other side and then there’s a crashing sound and someone’s denim-clad leg crashes right through the wood. A hand reaches through and unlocks it, and the first face I see is Grim’s.
“Landon!” I yell his legal name because…I don’t even know why but it feels right.
“Hey, hon.” He practically jumps down the short stairway and rushes over to me. He produces a knife and cuts through the ropes binding me in a couple of flicks of his wrist.
“Oh my God. You found me.” I look up at him, and at Silver and Motor, who are right behind him.
Then I burst into tears.
“You’re okay now.” And just like that, he scoops me up in his arms. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
“Wh-where’s Rage?” I sob, clutching his shirt like a lifeline.
“He went after Garth.”
My head snaps up. “No! He’ll kill him and wind up in jail! Grim, you have to stop him.”
“Honey.” He looks down at me, and there’s genuine regret in his eyes. “There isn’t a force on earth that can stop Elliott from doing what he’s about to do.”
Elliott.
Not Rage.
Elliott.
Because Rage is a soldier. A fighter. A bodyguard.
Elliott is a man currently fighting to right one of the wrongs in the world.
Rage is a persona, an alter ego.
Elliott is a man.
My man.
I’ve never heard Landon call Rage by his given name. Not once in the seven months we’ve all known each other, so I understand how serious this is.
“He can’t go to prison,” I whisper. “You have to try!”
“No one’s going to prison except Garth,” Silver says solemnly, patting my arm like I’m a little kid. “And that’s only if Rage lets him live. Trust me on that, sweetheart.”
I shiver once we get outside even though it’s August and probably ninety degrees.
“We have to get her to a hospital,” Grim says.
“We have to go after Elliott,” I insist. “Please. I can’t rest until I see him.”
“Let me see your foot,” Metal says when Grim puts me in the back of an SUV.
“Hey, Luna. Glad you’re okay.” Eric nods, smiling at me.
Okay, now the SUV makes sense. Elliott would have taken his.
“Get me the first aid kit!” Metal yells to Silver, who nods.
The next few minutes are a little uncomfortable but Metal cleans the wound as best he can, puts some kind of antibiotic ointment on it, and then bandages it. It won’t last long but at least long enough for us to find Elliott.
That’s all I care about.
I have too many things I want to tell him—and I don’t want to do it while he’s in jail. Or worse.
I have no idea what happened to my shoes, but someone produces what appears to be a clean pair of socks, so I put them on and then settle in the back seat.
“I hate to be a bother,” I say quietly, “but I need to go back in the house or I’m going to pee my pants.”
Grim reaches out a hand to help me out of the SUV, and I somehow speed walk across the yard, back into the house, and search every wall until I find a bathroom.
I use the facilities and wash my hands, but don’t touch anything else, and walk back outside shaking the excess water off.
“I’ll be damned if I touch one of his towels,” I mutter. “Probably have creepy cooties.”
Silver laughs. “I like her.”
“Water?” Eric produces a bottle and I guzzle the whole thing down.
“Thank you,” I whisper. Grim gets in beside me, Eric gets behind the wheel, and Metal sits in the passenger seat.
Then we hit the road.
“Daniil just sent me Rage’s location,” Eric says. “We can catch them if I step on it.”
I stare out the window, my heart pounding.
I’m sure it’s just adrenaline, but I’m not even a little bit tired now.
All I can think about is making sure Elliott is okay.
I know he’s as tough as they come, but Garth isn’t just a former fighter.
He’s a rapist, a thief, a kidnapper, and who knows what else.
If he can find a way to hurt Elliott, he will.
And if something happens to him, it will be my fault.
And I can’t live with that.
My past is my cross to bear—not his.