Page 79 of Elite Metal: Warriors

Two loud pops rocketed through the room. Twin blooms of agony blossomed. Excruciating pain screamed through his chest; the impact sent him flying back. When he slammed against the wall, it dazed him. His vision blurred. His ears rang. He slumped to the side as the concussion rocked him.

Helpless, boneless and broken, he laid there and watched as the men grabbed Michelle and dragged her toward the door, kicking and screaming. Heat howled through him. His heart lunged, his breath burned. He tried to rise up, to follow, but he couldn’t even lift a hand. His muscles wouldn’t work.

His soul howled at the sight of her being taken from him. To see them touching his woman. But there was nothing he could do to help her. Nothing he could do to save her.

Her gaze was locked on him. Panic wreathed her features. Her lips moved as she called his name as they hauled her through the door, but he couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear anything.

And then, she was gone.

She was gone.

And he’d let it happen.

Oblivion, when it descended, was a mercy.

* * *

“Shut that bitch up,” one of the mercenaries snapped. Probably the driver, the mean-looking one who’d punched her so hard before he shoved her in the backseat, it’d made her head spin. While she’d been dazed, they’d tied her hands and feet. If she hadn’t been stunned, they’d never have gotten her trussed up.

She struggled against her bonds, but they’d used zip ties. Without a knife, she couldn’t work herself free. She was utterly helpless as the car raced down the curving trail and out onto the road. It frustrated the hell out of her, but that was nothing to the horror clawing in her soul.

Ben was dead.

Shot in the heart.

She’d seen it, watched it. Witnessed it. Two bullets in the chest. They’d hit him with such force he’d flown through the air. Though disbelief had scuttled through her, still swamped her, she had to accept the fact that he was gone.

But she couldn’t.

That mewling sound rising in the sedan as it sped away, away from him, was her grief.

It seemed incomprehensible that she could come to care for him this much so quickly. They’d known each barely a day but somehow he’d stormed into her life, besieged her heart and captured it utterly.

His face, his smile, his scent were burned on her memory forever. She craved him, ached for him, needed him like she needed air.

That he was gone, that the world was bereft of his presence was devastating. Her heart, her soul, her world was shattered. At the thought, a sob escaped. And another.

The man sitting next to her as she lay on the seat leaned over and hissed, “Shut up.” His weight on her was heavy, menacing, but she was thankful for it. It gave her something else to focus on, someone to lash out at.

“Fuck you,” she snarled.

Chuckles rounded the car. “I toldja she was a firecracker.”

Michelle stilled as she recognized that voice. The third man. Ralley’s bodyguard.

Fuck.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, although she had a pretty good idea.

The driver smirked at her over his shoulder. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Ralley’s bodyguard—was his name Jonas?—shook his head. Though he stared straight out the windshield, he spoke to her. “You’d think you’d know better than to betray a man like Ralley Carson. He…doesn’t respond well to disloyalty.”

She could not contain her snort. “He was plotting treason. And with a known criminal.”

“We’re all criminals, on some level.”

She snorted. “No. We’re not.”