40. Forty
FORTY
WRENLY
T ime ceased to have meaning in this hellish place. I didn’t know how long or how many times Igor tortured me before he left me alone, shivering from the damp air and blood loss. But eventually, I heard the door creak open once more. Footsteps approached, and I tensed, bracing myself for another onslaught of pain.
But the touch that came was gentle, almost tender. Soft hands brushed hair from my face, and I looked up to see Theo. He was speaking to me, but I couldn’t hear him. Was I dreaming? My vision blurred as I blinked up at the figure crouching over me. It couldn’t be real. Theo couldn’t be here, because if he was, it meant he had fallen right into Igor’s trap.
“Theo?” I croaked.
“I’m here, baby,” he murmured, gently cupping my face. “I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tears streamed down his face as he cut the restraints around my wrists and ankles and gathered me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shirt, terrified that if I let go, he would vanish like a figment of my desperate imagination.
“How . . . how did you find me?” I managed to ask through chattering teeth. The cold seemed to have seeped into my very bones .
“Shh, don’t try to talk,” he soothed, shifting me so he could shrug off his jacket one arm at a time before he wrapped it around my trembling shoulders. His warmth and scent enveloped me, offering a small amount of comfort.
That’s when I remembered what Igor had said. “Theo, you can’t be here. It’s a trap.”
As if on cue, the sound of gunfire and shouting erupted outside the room. Theo’s head snapped up and his body tensed. He shifted me gently in his arms, reaching for the gun holstered at his hip.
“Stay with me,” he ordered, his voice low and urgent. Slowly, he rose to his feet, pulling me up with him. I leaned heavily against his side, my legs barely able to support my weight. Together, we limped toward the door, his arm wrapped protectively around my waist.
The door burst open before we reached it, and Igor strode in, flanked by two armed men. A cruel smile twisted his lips as he took in the sight of us. “Ah, The Ghost in the flesh. So predictable. I knew you’d come for your little whore.”
Theo aimed his gun at Igor’s head, his finger poised on the trigger. “Let her go, you sick fuck. This is between you and me.”
Igor tutted, shaking his head. “Oh but she’s a part of this now. You brought her into our game when you fell in love with her. Now you’ll both pay the price.”
“I swear to god, I’ll fucking kill you,” Theo growled, his hand steady despite the rage emanating from him in waves.
“Not before I make you watch as I break her beyond repair,” Igor sneered. “Drop the gun, or my men will paint the walls with her pretty brains.”
The click of a gun’s safety echoed behind us. Neither of us had realized that one of Igor’s men had been positioning himself out of our line of sight, too distracted by Igor. I tensed, feeling the cold metal press against the back of my skull. Theo’s eyes darted between Igor and the gunman as he calculated his odds. His grip tightened on his weapon, jaw clenched in frustrated helplessness.
The barrel was pressed against my temple, biting into my skin. Theo’s eyes flickered to me, anguish and fury warring in their depths. Slowly, he lowered his weapon to the ground, raising his hands in surrender.
“Good boy,” Igor mocked. “Now kick it over to me.”
Theo complied, sending the gun skidding across the floor. Igor bent to retrieve it, never taking his eyes off us. “Tie him up,” he ordered his men. “Make sure he has a good view of the show.”
Rough hands grabbed Theo, yanking his arms behind his back. He struggled against their hold, but a blow to his stomach doubled him over, gasping for breath. They bound his wrists and ankles, then shoved him to his knees, facing me.
Igor circled us like a shark scenting blood in the water. “I’m going to take my time with you,” he purred, trailing the gun along my jawline. “And your beloved will watch every moment, helpless to stop it.”
Tears slid down my cheeks as Igor’s free hand roamed over my body, groping and squeezing. Theo thrashed against his bonds, his eyes wild with desperation. “Don’t fucking touch her, you bastard!”
Igor chuckled darkly. “Oh, I’ve done more than just touch her. And I’ll continue to touch her until you beg me to kill her and put her out of her misery.” His fingers dug into the knife wound in my thigh, and I screamed. My vision went white as agony ripped through my body. He flung me to the ground at Theo’s knees. I lay there, trembling and sobbing, my blood staining the concrete. Theo strained against his bonds, desperate to reach me.
Igor smirked cruelly. “How touching,” he sneered. “The fearsome Ghost, brought to his knees by love. Pathetic.” He yanked my head back, and I cried out, my scalp burning. “Look at him,” he snarled. “Look into the eyes of the man who failed to protect you.”
With effort, I met Theo’s tortured gaze. Beneath the rage, I saw the apology, the guilt, the love. I didn’t blame him.
Igor pressed the gun under my chin, forcing my head up at a painful angle. “Beg him to save you,” he taunted. When I remained silent, he dug the barrel in harder. “Beg!”
“Never!” I spat, putting every ounce of defiance into a single word. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
In a blur of motion, he pistol-whipped me across the face. Pain exploded in my head as I collapsed to the ground. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Theo roar in fury, followed by the sickening thud of flesh striking flesh as he fought his captors. He had broken free of his bonds, launching himself at Igor in a rage.
The two men grappled for control of the gun, their bodies slamming into walls and furniture as they fought. The sound of gunfire being exchanged filled the room as Archer, Kai, and other men filed in, opening fire on Igor’s men. Bullets whizzed through the air, embedding into walls and ricocheting off metal as more of Igor’s men flooded in.
Theo landed a solid punch to Igor’s jaw, sending him staggering back. But Igor quickly retaliated, driving his knee into Theo’s gut and doubling him over. I struggled to push myself up, my limbs leaden and uncooperative. Blood dripped into my eyes from the gash on my forehead, blurring my sight. I blinked it away just in time to see Igor level the gun at Theo’s chest.
“ No !” The scream tore from my ravaged throat. Adrenaline surged through my veins, propelling me forward. I threw myself at Igor, knocking his arm aside just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet went wide, lodging into the wall behind us. We crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, the gun clattering away.
Theo tried to reach me, but one of Igor’s men tackled him. Igor’s hands wrapped around my neck, squeezing with brutal force. Black spots swam in my vision as I clawed at his fingers, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. I spotted a piece of metal shrapnel on the ground, and I groped blindly for it, my fingers closing around its sharp edge. With desperate energy, I swung my arm up, driving the metal into Igor’s side. He howled in pain, his grip on my throat easing when he fell forward, exposing his neck to me as he clutched at his side. I bit into his neck with all the strength I had left, my teeth piercing his flesh. The coppery taste of blood flooded my mouth as he bellowed. He tried to pull away, but I clung on like a rabid animal, tearing at his throat. With a sickening rip, I felt his skin and sinew give way.
With a roar, he managed to fling me off. I hit the ground hard, gasping for air, his blood dripping down my chin. He staggered to his feet, clutching his mangled throat, eyes wide with shock and fury. He lunged for me, but Theo intercepted him, tackling him to the ground. I watched as my Devil, driven by primal rage, dug his fingers into Igor’s eye sockets, a roar erupting from Theo’s chest. Igor screamed in anguish, clawing at Theo’s hands. But Theo’s wrath was unyielding, fueled by vengeance. With a sickening squelch, he tore his eyes from their sockets, tossing the bloody orbs aside.
“You’ll never lay eyes on her again, you sick fuck!” he snarled, his voice barely human.
Igor writhed on the ground, howling like a wounded animal as blood poured from his empty sockets. Theo straddled him, raining down punches mercilessly, turning Igor’s once smug face into a pulpy, unrecognizable mess. Each sickening crunch of bone was punctuated by Theo’s enraged grunts, his knuckles splitting open from the impact.
I watched in morbid fascination, too weak to move, as the man I loved unleashed the full extent of his wrath. He was no longer, in that moment, my gentle, protective Theo. No, he was something more profound. He was the devil incarnate, exacting years of vengeance with ruthless brutality.
He didn’t stop.
He couldn’t stop.
Years of torment, years of being haunted by this monster poured out of him in a cathartic release of savagery. Igor’s body had long since gone limp, twitching in a macabre death rattle. Yet Theo continued to rain blows upon him, his knuckles raw and slick with blood and brain matter.
I crawled toward him, my broken body screaming in protest. With trembling fingers, I touched his arm. “Theo, it’s over. He’s dead.”
He froze at my touch, his chest heaving with exertion and raw emotion. Slowly, he turned to look at me, his eyes wild and haunted. He seemed to stare right through me, lost in the throes of his rage. But then recognition flickered in his gaze, and the fury drained from his face, replaced by anguish and desperate relief.
“Wren,” he breathed, my name a broken prayer on his lips. He gathered me into his arms, crushing me against his chest as if he could absorb me into himself. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his blood-soaked shirt, anchoring myself to his solid warmth. Sobs wracked my battered frame as the adrenaline faded, leaving me raw and shattered.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured into my hair, his tears mingling with mine. “You’re safe now. I’m here. It’s over. It’s fucking over.”
He rocked me gently, one hand cradling my head and the other stroking soothing circles on my back. I wanted to burrow into him, to crawl inside his skin and never come out. In his arms, I felt a flicker of safety, of home amidst the nightmare that had now become my reality.
Around us, the chaos settled as the last of Igor’s men were subdued or killed. Archer and Kai moved through the room efficiently, checking the bodies and securing the area. But their presence barely registered as I clung to Theo, my lifeline.
He pressed desperate kisses to my hair, my forehead, and my tear-stained cheeks as if reassuring himself that I was real—that I was alive.
Atlas, Archer’s older brother, stepped into the room, his face covered in blood. He surveyed the room, his eyes lingering on Igor’s mutilated corpse before settling on Theo and me. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. “Well, it looks like you had yourself quite the party. Can’t say I’m sad to see that bastard go.”
Theo barely acknowledged Atlas’s presence, his focus entirely on me. He gently brushed my matted hair from my face, his fingers ghosting over the bruises and cuts that marred my skin. “I need to get her to the hospital,” he said, his voice thick with worry.
Atlas nodded, his demeanor now serious. “Of course. I’ll have my men secure a route.” He turned to Kai and said, “Kai, I found someone I think you’ll be interested in.”
Kai’s head snapped up at Atlas’s words, his eyes narrowing. “Who?” he demanded.
Atlas stepped aside, and his men brought in a battered and beaten older man. His face was swollen and bruised, his clothes torn and bloodied. He lifted his head weakly, his eyes meeting Kai’s.
“We found him trying to slither out the back with a stash of girls,” Atlas scoffed. “We’ve secured the girls, but I figured you had some unfinished business with the perv who moonlighted as your girl’s father.”
“Thank you, Atlas,” Kai said .
In an instant, Kai was across the room, his gun raised at the man’s head.
The man’s eyes widened in fear as he stared down the barrel of Kai’s gun. “W-wait! Please . . .” he stammered, holding up his hands in a futile gesture of surrender.
Kai’s finger tightened on the trigger, his eyes cold and merciless. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t paint the walls with your brains right now, Abel.”
Abel swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I-I can give you information! Names, locations, anything you want to know about the trafficking ring!”
Kai scoffed. “You really think that’s enough to save your pathetic life after what you did to Haven? To all those innocent girls?” Kai cocked the hammer of the gun, the click echoing through the room.
Abel flinched, a whimper escaping his lips. “Please . . . have mercy.”
“Mercy?” Kai laughed harshly. “Did you show mercy to Haven when you sold her like a piece of meat? Did you show mercy to any of those girls when you ripped them from their families and forced them into a life of hell?”
The man’s shoulders slumped in defeat, his head hanging low. “I’m sorry . . .” he whispered brokenly.
Kai pressed the muzzle of the gun against Abel’s forehead, his eyes blazing with fury. “Sorry doesn’t change a fucking thing. It doesn’t erase the scars you’ve left on Haven. But you know what will help?”
“Wh-what?” the man dared to ask.
“Your death.”
The gunshot rang out deafeningly loud in the confines of the room. Abel’s body crumpled to the ground, a neat hole in the center of his forehead, eyes still wide in shock. Blood and brain matter splattered on the wall behind him, a macabre Rorschach of crimson against the dingy concrete.
Kai lowered his gun slowly, his face an impassive mask even as a storm of emotions raged in his eyes. He turned to Atlas with a curt nod. “Have your men dispose of this trash. He doesn’t deserve a proper burial.” He spat on the body and walked away.
Justice, in its most primal form, had been served .
I’d watched the scene unfold through hazy, half-lidded eyes, my body and mind too numb to fully process the violence. The room seemed to spin, the edges of my vision blurring. Theo’s arms tightened around me, his warmth the only thing tethering me to consciousness.
Atlas signaled to his men, and they swiftly dragged the body away, leaving a smeared trail of crimson in their wake. Kai holstered his weapon and strode over to where Theo still cradled me against his chest. His eyes softened as he took in my battered state.
“Christ, Wren,” he murmured, crouching down beside us.
“Stay with me, baby,” Theo instructed, his lips brushing against my ear. “I’ve got you. Just hold on a little longer.”
I wanted to respond, to assure him that I was okay, but my tongue felt thick and heavy in my mouth. A coppery taste coated my throat, and I realized distantly that it was blood. My blood mixed with Igor’s.
The adrenaline that had kept me going, that had fueled my desperate fight against Igor, faded rapidly, leaving me drained and weak. The pain that had been held at bay by sheer willpower and survival instinct now crashed over me. Every breath felt like shards of glass in my lungs.
“Just stay with me, Wren. Keep those beautiful eyes open for me.”
But it was a losing battle. The welcoming embrace of unconsciousness beckoned, promising a respite from the all-consuming pain. My eyelids fluttered, growing heavier with each passing second.
Theo’s grip on me tightened as he began to move, his strides purposeful and urgent. I was dimly aware of the others falling in step around us, forming a protective circle as we navigated the blood-soaked hallways of this hellish place.
Snippets of conversation floated through the haze, enveloping my mind, disjointed and muffled, as if my head was submerged underwater.
“. . . traumatic injuries . . . significant blood loss . . .” Archer’s voice, usually so calm and collected, held an undercurrent of tension.
“. . . pregnant . . .” Theo said. “. . . need to move faster . . . losing her . . .” His words were clipped and panicked.
Their urgency penetrated the fog, and a flicker of fear pierced through my apathy. Was I dying? The thought drifted through my mind, detached and clinical. After everything I’d endured, was this how it would end? Bleeding out in the arms of the man I loved, my life slipping away in the very place that had stolen my soul?
No. I couldn’t let it end like this. I had fought too hard and survived too much to let that monster win, even in death. With a monumental effort, I forced my eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights.
Theo’s face swam into view above me, his features tight with worry. When he saw my eyes open, a flicker of hope ignited in his gaze. “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his voice strained. “Stay with me. We’re almost out of here.”
I tried to speak, to reassure him, but all that emerged was a weak, gurgling cough. The coppery taste intensified, and I felt something warm and wet trickle from the corner of my mouth.
Blood.
Theo’s eyes widened in alarm as he saw the crimson stain on my lips. He quickened his pace, his arms tightening around me protectively. “Hang on, Wren,” he pleaded, desperation coloring his tone. “Don’t you dare give up on me now. Think of our baby. She needs her mama.”
His words penetrated through the encroaching darkness, a lifeline to cling to. Our baby, the tiny spark of life growing inside me, a perfect blend of him and me, the future we dreamed of, the family we yearned to build together. I couldn’t abandon that precious gift and leave Theo to face this cruel world alone.
With a strength I hadn’t known I’d possessed, I rallied against the pull of oblivion. I focused on the rhythm of Theo’s heartbeat and the cadence of his ragged breaths as he carried me through the twisting corridors. Each thump against my cheek was a reminder, a promise.
“Stay with me, stay with me,” he chanted desperately.
I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to stay, to hold on to this life, to him, with every fiber of my being. But my body, so battered and broken, had reached its limit. The edges of my vision darkened, narrowing to a pinpoint of light that was his face above me. His anguished pleas faded into a distant echo as the void rose up to claim me again.