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“Being twice the man doesn’t keep you alive, does it?” he mocked.
“Why am I even trying to reason with you?” I asked wearily. “You’re a soulless bastard for killing your own friends.”
Cristiano was quiet for a beat, and then. “You don’t know that.”
“Are you going to pin this on The Reaper too?”
“You can shut your fucking cunt now,” Cristiano growled.
Did I just hit a sore spot? I did have a tendency to push when I was riled.
“What’s the matter, Cristiano, your conscience bothering you?”
“Shut up!” He shouted before a fist cracked against my jaw. I saw stars in the darkness as I fell against the side of the van. I thought it was my own dizziness that caused the van to rock, but the vibration came from behind us.
I heard Cristiano shout in alarm and then a louder explosion tilted the front of our vehicle upward before it slammed down.
Someone was groaning and muttering. I smelled smoke and gasoline. A bad combination. Was I on the floor of the van?
I heard gunshots and then a breeze swept in.
Matt?
Did my husband come for me? The police must have heard the call-out and turned around to pursue us. Hope bloomed in my chest.
“No. No. Please!” Cristiano pleaded
“You dare steal my woman?” A chilling voice said, a voice that did not belong to Matt.
There was a single gunshot and then I heard the biker no more. I heard his body dragged from the seat and land on the ground. Then I felt a presence hover over me as I shrank back against the side of the door.
“Are you okay, cara?”
Those words turned my blood to ice.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Matt
A thousand hammering men decided to excavate the insides of his skull. Matt groaned and rolled on his side, cursing the noise of the creaking bed. When did his bed ever creak? His eyes flew open and took in the unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a cell. And the events that led him in here came crashing back as he sprang to his feet.
Grace.
The garage.
He’d been in the patrol car when the call came of shots fired at his place. He lost it and almost kicked the barrier in the police vehicle down. The deputies were probably regretting not slapping the cuffs on him.
“We need to go back!” he roared at the same time punching the wired partition between them.
“Another unit is on its way,” the deputy who was driving told him.
Everything blurred after that. All he knew was Grace was in danger and the deputies were preventing him from getting to her, from protecting her. He heard the deputy calling for backup. Matt had retreated into the horror in his head. He hadn’t realized the backup was for him until he saw the cruiser surrounded by police officers when they pulled into the county offices.
They tried to subdue him, but he was so far gone, he didn’t feel anything until an electrical jolt shot through him. He didn’t go down. They didn’t get the memo that it took a higher setting on the Taser to suppress one of his kind even under reduced strength. After throwing a few more bodies off him, he blanked out.
They’d hit him on the back of his head with a baton. He touched the lump on the back of his head and winced. Jesus, did they use a battering ram?
“Hey, assholes!” Matt shouted. “Let me the fuck out!” They didn’t even leave him his damned watch. He didn’t know how long he’d been down. Fear, unlike any other, clenched his gut. The worst thing was the not knowing. And he refused to speculate what had happened to Grace. He’d be useless if he’d let his mind go there. He rattled the bars of his cell. If someone didn’t let him out soon, it was possible he’d tear this place apart when he did get out. Damn the consequences and damn Trent for not being here when it mattered.
