Chapter 14 #2
The loose powder was right there, but fucking Cross was right. Ranger didn’t want the powder. His mind, his body, knew the needle. He wanted the needle. He deserved the needle.
Round and round in his head, each pull tearing him into pieces. Who would win? Would he even recognize himself when it stopped? Would he want to?
He could escape. The solution was right in front of him. Cross had it, was offering it to him. He could take it, leave this plane of existence and never have to feel this fucking void that was tearing him open from the inside out again.
He could be free.
“I don’t have access,” he realized. The syringe was so fucking close. Could he take it from Cross? Was he fast enough?
“Can you get the access without notifying your club?”
Demo would know the second he touched the accounts. Keys would be the only one who could get around that. Ranger certainly didn’t have those computer skills. Did he have anything on Keys? Anything to keep the kid’s mouth shut where he could transfer the funds?
Ranger mentally snorted. Of course he didn’t, and even if he did, he’d have to find a way to keep Rose from spilling the beans, too.
In the limited time that he’d gotten to know Rose, he’d picked up on how attached those two were.
What one knew, the other would, too. He wouldn’t be surprised if they somehow implanted chips in each other’s brains to share things telepathically.
Ranger’s eyes flicked to Toni. Cross had his hand over her mouth now. Fuck! When had he done that? Why hadn’t Ranger noticed? Her tears were gathering on the edge of his hand, a river meeting stone. It broke something in Ranger to see her like that.
This was his fault. All his fault. He needed to save her.
No, he didn’t need to save her. He wasn’t even armed, not allowed to carry a weapon anymore.
He wasn’t worthy of saving her. But he could alert others who were, others who would take care of her and watch out for her. Protect her in his stead.
Ranger looked to Cross. The pull towards the syringe was strong, but Ranger fought it with all his might. He had to keep a clear head if this was to work.
“I have the money. Not the club, me,” he clarified.
“I can transfer the half mil from my own account.” It wasn’t a lie either.
He had it from his inheritance. The same inheritance Cameron and Ritchie had been after.
The inheritance that had led him down this dark path of misery and suffering.
“But I need my phone,” he explained, pointing to his pocket.
Cross’ eyes narrowed, suspicion conflicting with the confidence he was exuding that he had complete control over this room. “Carefully,” he instructed. “No funny business.” For emphasis, he pressed the tip of the needle into Toni’s skin.
Toni’s gasp of pain was muffled by Cross’ hand across her mouth, but Ranger saw it still in her brown eyes.
Ranger slowly reached into his pocket. He fumbled purposely for an extra second with his keyring and then his fingers touched the smooth plastic of his phone. But the damage was done. No matter what happened now, the club was coming for Toni.
* * *
Something was different about Ranger. Toni couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but he no longer looked conflicted. He looked almost…peaceful. She didn’t know what was happening, but the serenity in his eyes, scared her more than the needle poking into her throat.
Her heart thundered in her chest as Ranger showed Cross his phone. Carefully, Ranger angled the screen so Cross could see as he logged into his banking app. Toni felt Cross’ fingers flex painfully over her jaw.
She didn’t even look at the screen. Didn’t care how many zeros it showed or if Ranger was somehow tricking Cross.
But who had a fake login ready on the off chance that they had to show someone their fake bank account?
No, knowing what she did about Becks and Ranger’s abduction, she didn’t doubt that money was real.
It wasn’t anything they’d specifically talked about, though Ranger was adamant about paying for their dates and things while they were together.
What Toni focused on was Ranger. There was something very wrong with his eyes, and when she finally figured out what it was, it was like being shattered into a million pieces.
Ranger’s eyes were ice-blue. They were beautiful, like a snow-crest horizon on a winter day.
But they were not icy. They were not cold.
Haunted, yes, but not cruel or malicious.
For the first time since meeting him, Ranger’s eyes were icy. She imagined it was how a villain looked just before he tricked the hero into getting what he wanted all along. There was absolutely no warmth, no goodness, no love in his gaze.
Sorrow pierced her with a thousand tiny blades. A hiccup of despair left her, completely muted by Cross’ hand. Any hope she was holding onto that the warrior lay dormant beneath the addict shattered, and she knew in that moment that Ranger was lost to her.
* * *
Ranger was floating. The closest he could relate it to was during his second deployment when he’d been in a small village outside Marjah, in Helmand.
A suicide bomber had driven through their checkpoint.
Ranger had been close enough to feel the heat and power of the blast. He recalled the ringing deafness, the blurry yet crisp vision, and the taste of fire on his tongue.
It was ethereal, like reality had cracked and time no longer existed.
Knocked to the ground, gasping for breath in the scorching sand, Ranger had been one of the lucky ones.
Many flag-covered coffins were sent home that day.
And just like then, muscle memory seemed to take over. He knew his goal: get that syringe. The rest of the world was gone. Nothing else existed beyond getting the sweet release currently locked inside the barrel.
One plunge was all it would take.
No sounds reached his ears beyond the numbers Cross gave him so he could type it into his phone. Nine digits, followed by another eleven. Each one bringing him closer to salvation. Soon he would not feel, would not think.
He didn’t even pay attention to the transfer as it processed or the amount Cross told him to enter. He didn’t care. Cross could have it all so long as Ranger got that syringe.
Ranger needed it. He deserved it. He needed to have it, needed it now.
“It’s done.” The relief in Cross’ voice did something to Ranger. Like checking off a box that got him closer to feeling that familiar plastic in his hand. There would be no pinch of the needle as it entered his skin.
Just sweet oblivion.
The phone fell from Ranger’s fingers. On some level he registered that someone was calling his name, but he had no idea who or why. Not that it mattered anyway.
“Let her go. It’s mine.” He didn’t care how desperate his voice sounded, how weak that plea made him. He’d fulfilled his end of the bargain. Now it was Cross’ turn.
“Not quite yet. Toni has a gift for you.” Cross pulled the needle from her neck, a bead of blood running down her pale flesh. “Reach into my left pocket. There’s a good girl.”
Ranger’s eyes dropped at the flash of something blue in her hand. Like it was a poisonous snake about to bite her, Toni yelped into Cross’ hand and flung the tourniquet across the room. It landed at the front left leg of the coffee table.
“Stupid,” Cross scoffed. “You think that’ll save him? Pick it up.”
With a shove to her back, Toni went sprawling forward on her hands and knees, narrowly missing the corner of the table. An inch. That was all that stood between Toni’s life and death. Maybe it wouldn’t have killed her, but it would have hurt her.
Ranger blinked. Toni could have died. Cross had just pushed Toni to the floor, and Ranger had allowed it. Shame washed over him, more powerful than any craving. He was no hero. He certainly wasn’t Toni’s. But inch or no inch, he would not stand for anyone harming Toni.
Cross clearly did not see anything wrong with his actions, even smiling at Ranger as he held out the syringe. Ranger took it like it was valued treasure, something to be coveted and protected. Did he really need the tourniquet?
Cross lowered his eyes to the floor, lifting his foot as if to kick Toni—and that was the moment Ranger struck. There was no thought, no intense surge of energy or adrenaline. All he knew in that moment was that the club was not here to protect Toni, so he had to.
Cross stumbled backwards, already off balance from lifting his foot in the air. His hand went to his throat pulling the depressed syringe from his skin. “What did you do?!” he shouted, fighting to regain his balance. Horror, confusion, disbelief all passed over his face like a changing slideshow.
In his periphery, Ranger registered Toni turning around on the floor and looking up at the scene above her.
“What did you do!” Cross cried out, betrayal lacing his voice. His eyes started to contract into pinpoints. That precious syringe tumbled from his fingers.
Cross tried to rush forward, but he was so off balance he fell to the carpeting before he even reached Ranger.
Struggling to regain his footing, Cross blindly reached for something, anything, he could lean on.
When this brought him closer to Toni on the floor, Ranger quickly stomped his boot down on the man’s hand, feeling bones crush beneath his sole.
Crying out, Cross ripped his hand away, falling over onto his back. His mouth hung open, the skin sagging unnaturally. His lips developed a bluish tint, and several seconds later, he started gasping for breath. Wet gurgling sounds filled the room as white-pinkish frothy foam spewed from his mouth.