“Daimon was taken by a gang called the Sic Bastards.” A tear rolls down my cheek. “It’s my fault.”
Sasha places a hand on my arm. “It’s not your fault.”
“He came to get me out of the bar—a bar that is in the Sic Bastards’ territory—so yes, this is absolutely my fault.”
“They could have taken him for any reason, honey. These men make enemies every day of the fucking week. It might have nothing to do with that.”
She’s trying to make me feel better, but it does nothing to dull the ache in my chest.
Lucy returns a moment later with the first aid kit. “That looks like a hell of a hit you took to your face.”
The blood is no longer streaming down my face, but I can imagine I look like something out of a horror movie. Luckily, my top is black, so it hides the evidence of my attack, but my skin is probably still covered in it.
Lucy heads back into the kitchen and returns with a bowl of water and a cloth. The two women clean me up and cover the cut on my head with a piece of gauze. The entire time, I sit there my back ramrod straight trying not to worry if Daimon is dead.
27
Daimon
Every inch of my body hurts. The torture they’re inflicting is crude, but it’s doing the job. They lack the finesse of Fury, of any of my brothers, in fact, but my chest is covered in slashes and sticky blood, and my torso feels like one big bruise from their fists.
Tat guy has lost his fucking mind. He seems intent on inflicting as much pain as he can on me and I kept my strength for a while, but there’s only so much the human body can take. I’m starting to feel the effects of the torture and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I feel the life starting to leave me with every slash of his knife, pouring away with the blood. Dizziness washes over me in waves.
I hang limply from my wrists, the chains around them digging in and creating fresh ruby trails down my arms. I can’t pinpoint a single wound, because everything hurts so badly. My body throbs viciously in time with my heartbeat and vomit crawls up my throat. I can barely see through one eye and every inhalation is like breathing through shards of glass. I’m not ready to give up, not yet, not knowing Brie is waiting for me, but I know my time is running out like sand in an hour glass. I’m using everything I have left to keep fighting. I can hardly keep conscious, my vision winking in and out constantly as I battle with my broken body to stay alert. I refuse to die in some filthy kill room. I refuse to die like a pig strung up on a hook, and I refuse to be taken out by some two-bit London gang.
Briella’s face constantly dances in my wobbly vision, reminding me to stay strong, reminding me of what I will lose if I give up, but even her image is starting to fade in the waves of agony rippling through me. Her beautiful face is becoming distorted. I can hardly tell what’s reality and what’s not anymore. I hear Briella whispering she loves me, the brothers’ voices telling me not to give up, but it all becomes white noise. I float along, not even sure I could escape if the opportunity presented itself.
I’m going to die. This is it.
The realisation slams into my gut like a wrecking ball. I’ve lived a dangerous life. I expected to die young. Never thought I’d make it to thirty, so passing that milestone was a huge deal, but I’m never going to see thirty-two. This is the end of the line for me. The minutes are ticking down to my demise. I don’t see how I get out of this in one piece. These fuckers are going to kill me before my brothers can save me. Even if they do rescue me, I’m not sure it’s not too late.
I have no clue how long I’ve been here, but it feels like an eternity. I’m trying not to give up on the idea of being rescued. The only thing fuelling me is the revenge my brothers will take when they catch these wannabe gangsters. They will torture them for days, keeping them on the edge of pain so they don’t pass out. Fury will skin them alive little by little and rejoice at their screams. Despair was my first emotion. Brie already lost too much and the brothers have faced so much over the past few years. I know my death will rock them, that they’ll feel it like a blade dug into their hearts, but it’s not in my control.
Now, I’m in the acceptance stage. If this is to be my end, then so be it. I hope it comes soon, because I’m not sure how much more of this I can take and I don’t want to break before the end. I won’t break. I’m a Sons and we’re stronger than that.
I swallow hard, my throat working as tat guy comes towards me with his knife, my blood dripping from the end of the blade like the tears I refuse to cry. The light from the bare bulb hanging in the centre of the room glints off the metal as he twists it in his hand. His smile is macabre, grizzly and a little unhinged. He’s high on the blood lust, I’ve seen it before. He’s enjoying this too much, which doesn’t bode well for me.
“I’m going to give you another chance to answer,” tat guy says, “though, I almost hope you don’t. I want to see you bleed some more.”
I grit my teeth, trying to brace for the pain I know will follow. There’s no way I’ll give up my girl. She’s the only light in my darkness.
“Fuck… you.”
He steps forwards and drags the knife across my abdomen. I squeeze my eyes shut and groan before peering down at the shallow wound to my stomach. It crosses an earlier wound he inflicted and fuck, that shit hurts.
“You fucking… cunt,” I grind out. “You’re dead.” I shake against the chains. They don’t rattle, like they did earlier, showing how weak I’ve become.
“You’ve been promising that since we strung your arse up there. So far no one has come to find you. Maybe they just don’t care.” He spits the last word in my face and I wish I wasn’t strung up. I’d beat his stupid face in. The urge to pound his flesh is not one I can ignore. He’s lost it if he thinks the Sons won’t seek vengeance for each mark they have made on my skin. Everything they have inflicted on me will be returned double.
“Let’s just kill him and get this shit over with,” his friend with the shaved head says. “Don’t want to be here when his club rides in.”
“You think they have a chance of finding us out here?” tat guy’s eyes slide to mine. “We’re off the grid. I’m enjoying watching him bleed.”
He underestimates the ability of my brothers to find me. They’ll be determined and they have the skills and the connections to find out exactly where I’m hidden.
I take a shaky breath, trying to ignore the fire moving along my abdomen, trying to ignore everything but the steady pull of air into my lungs. My vision darkens for longer this time.
“If you want it to stop, all you have to do is tell us what you were doing on our patch.”
I open my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, when movement behind both men catches my attention. I blink through the blood occluding my eyes and that’s when I see him.
Ravage.
I blink again, but it’s him. If I could smile, I would. He looks like a fucking avenging angel as he stalks towards skinhead guy on silent feet. For a moment, I wonder if I’m hallucinating. Have I finally lost my fucking marbles? Did these cunts break me? I can’t stop the relief I feel, even if I’m seeing shit. I can’t stop from feeling elated joy that this shit is about to be over one way or another.