Page 15 of Healed

And all I could do was sit there, keeping the car warm for the man I had spent ten years trying to save.

The man who had come for me anyway.

The man who, God willing, Dante was about to bring back.

Chapter 6

Vienna

By the time the basement door crashed open, I had managed to get myself onto my feet, which sounded far more impressive than it looked.

In reality, I was leaning heavily against the wall, one hand pressed to my ribs, sweat coating my skin, the other poised and ready to fight. Michelle was watching me with the sort of expression that said she thought I was both a hero and a moron.

Which was unfair, actually, because everyone could see I was basically Thor.

And not a prick in a cape.

“You know, I’m basically—”

“Thor,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes. “I’ve heard.”

I grinned at her and then wobbled slightly on unsteady legs. “Just wanted to remind you. Couldn’t have you forgetting at a time like this.”

We both grew quiet at the commotion coming from outside our prison.

“Luke,” she hissed, her voice low but fierce as the sound of footsteps thundered above us. “You need to sit back down before you fall down. There is absolutely no point surviving Nico only to crack your skull open because you’re too proud to admit your legs aren’t working properly.”

“My legs are working perfectly fine,” I lied, taking one step away from the wall and immediately regretting it when the entire room tilted to the left. “See?” I said, slapping my thighs. “Excellent legs. Strong and dependable. The sort of legs a man can build a future on.”

Michelle gave me a look that would have withered lesser—and more intelligent—men. “Will you watch where you’re going! You almost fell into that bucket.”

I scoffed. “I didn’t fall. I was merely checking it out.”

“Checking it for what?”

“… Structural integrity.”

“Structural integrity,” she repeated. “Dear God, he’s a fucking moron.” But just like her daughter, there was a hint of a giggle in her voice and a whisper of a smile on her lips.

And in that moment—that one strange, painful moment—I saw the Michelle I remembered. The one she had been before all this. The fierce, formidable old lady at Harley’s side. The woman who had passed her strength onto her daughter. The nasty woman who had once smacked me around the back of the head for daring to breathe the same air as her precious daughter.

After all, the Devil’s stray had never been good enough for the princess of the Riders, and Michelle made sure I knew it every time she caught me nearby.

The footsteps on the stairs grew louder, and I shifted in front of Michelle despite the fact that I was in no condition to shield anyone from anything. But it was instinct.

And not just because she was the mother of the woman I loved. But because she had already been through enough. Just like my own mother, she was a victim of her life, and I wouldn’t see her any more broken and defeated than she already was. Not whilst I still had breath in my lungs.

My hands curled into fists, every bruised knuckle protesting the movement, but I ignored it. If Nico had sent someone down here to finish this before the Devils reached us, then they could get in the fucking queue.

I had been beaten, dragged, concussed, and dumped in a basement, but I wasn’t dead, and I had recently discovered that Gabriella might not be either, which meant I had gone from having no reason to live to having every reason to ruin someone’s day.

The door burst open before I had time to make another terrible decision, which was personally offensive because I had several lined up and ready to go.

A Rider stumbled through first, one hand braced against the frame, his eyes wild as he looked between me and Michelle.

For one second, I thought he was injured.

For one stupid, hopeful second, I thought maybe he was running from Dante, and all I needed to do was stand here looking large and vaguely threatening until my president arrived to finish the job.