Page 77 of Serpent & Saviors

My head twisted around, pain searing through my neck. Through my own hazy vision, Andrew’s once gentle and kind eyes blazed with an unmistakable rage. His brows were furrowed, his jaw clenched in a steely determination that seemed capable of tearing down mountains. He’d transformed into a force of nature, and the air around us crackled with tension. His nostrils flared with each heated breath he took.

He had Cameron in a headlock and moved him toward the water. I gulped, fascinated by the events unfolding. Andrew’s lips were pressed into a tight, unforgiving, thin line. He was controlled fury, a warrior, and Cameron was going to pay.

“Motherfucker, you’ll die for this,” he seethed.

His movements were sharp and precise as he lowered his head. Over and over, he dunked Cameron, and my heart rejoiced. Each gesture Andrew made was done with a lethal grace.

“You like that, you sick fuck?” he said calmly, taking in breaths as Cameron tried to fight. “Always picking on those who were weaker than you. So pathetic. Not so strong now, are you?”

His voice cut through the chaos, a deep sound that commanded attention. Every word was laced with a chilling authority. Andrew was far more than I’d thought him to be. Staring, I understood he was a dangerous force when provoked. Cameron tried to speak, but Andrew slammed his head against the side of the tub.

“Oops, sorry about that.” He shoved his head underwater.

His hands, once gentle and loving, were gripping Cameron’s neck. The muscles in his arms and shoulders flexed and rippled with unrestrained power. He glanced at me, and his lips curved upward in a sinister arc. I couldn’t help but be both terrified and in awe of the transformation.

“My son…where’s my son?” I croaked, pulling at Marcus’s shirt.

“He is with Pasha. Both of you are safe.”

Those simple words broke me, and my frantic struggling subsided. My hands and knees gave out. The knowledge that Declan was safe, that I was safe, had me slipping away into unconsciousness.

I awoke sometime later. The world around me was muted colors and hushed voices.

My eyes shot open, and for a moment, disorientation reigned. I was caught in limbo. The room swayed gently, and I blinked to clear my vision. A paramedic leaned over me. His gloved hand held a penlight, and he examined my eyes.

“I’m checking for head trauma. Can you hear me?” he asked.

His voice was professional yet soft, a soothing contrast to my earlier chaos. I nodded weakly. Words eluded me as my mind struggled to catch up. The throbbing pain in my head reminded me of the struggle I’d gone through. His gaze remained fixed as he continued the assessment. Fingers probed lightly at my neck, checking for signs of injury.

Despite being groggy, I forced myself to stay alert. My eyes combed the room. Where were Andrew and Marcus? Pasha and Declan? Who were these other people?

“I think we should take her in,” the paramedic said, speaking to a man beside me.

I couldn’t bear to be separated from Declan for another second. My heart skipped a beat. With a surge of determination, I croaked, “No…I need to stay with my son.”

The paramedic hesitated, torn. He exchanged a look with the man who studied me strangely. In the end, after answering several questions for him, he relented. His expression softened.

“She won’t be left alone,” the man spoke once more.

The paramedic nodded and stepped to the side. I let out a sigh of relief. I was battered and bruised, but I had survived. My place going forward was with Declan. Nothing and no one would ever come between us again. I slowly lifted my eyes toward the rough voice of the man I was now sitting alone with. I stared at him, bewildered.

He was huge, a mountain of a man dressed all in black. Piercing aqua eyes bore into mine. In the depths of them lay determination, a hardness, and something else. I wanted to look away but was transfixed by him.

My gaze froze on the tattoo on his arm. It was in the shape of a large knife with a skull forming the blade. I cleared my throat. He nodded to someone by the door and then turned and spoke to me. I put two and two together. This had to be someone from Andrew’s crew. One of his friends.

“We’re going to take you and your son home soon.”

“Where is Declan?” I asked.

“I’m here, mummy.”

At the sound of his little voice, I sobbed. My heart raced as I finally laid eyes on him. He was clutching Fuzzy, wide-eyed, his beautiful face a mosaic of confusion and hope. Pasha released his hand as I reached out. He ran to me, throwing himself into my arms. He clung to me with all the strength a small boy could muster.

The world around me faded, and I kissed the top of his curls, inhaling the fresh, clean scent of him. Whispering words of comfort and love, I promised him right then and there that we would get through this.

Ten minutes later, a detective approached. “I’m Detective Matthews, Victoria. We know you’ve been through a traumatic event. The paramedics assured me you’re coherent and not suffering any life-threatening injuries. I can’t say the same for…”

He stopped, and his eyes landed on my hand as I cradled Declan’s head to my chest. His eyes were closed and his breathing was even. He’d fallen asleep. “I think tomorrow will be sufficient. We can get a statement from you then.”