Dread fills me knowing what he must see inside, and I watch as his brows arch, intrigue settling over his handsome features. “What the ever-loving …”
I cringe as he trails off. It doesn’t take a genius to know where he was going with that. I’m a fucking savage. Most people in my situation would have just stabbed the guy, but not me. I had to slice half his fucking leg off.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Roman steps over the threshold and the rest of us trail in behind him. “Are you sure everyone is dead?” Levi questions as his gaze settles on the man slouched against the wall, sitting in a pool of his own blood as his calf muscle, perfectly sliced and diced, rests by his foot. “There were no other guards?”
I shake my head, unable to look away from the man. “I … I thought I got them all, but then that guy outside…”
Levi nods as I trail off, understanding what wasn’t spoken out loud—that I wasn’t nearly as thorough as I should have been, and they need to be prepared that someone could jump out at any time to try and finish the job. Though the idea of that happening now that the boys are here doesn’t scare me nearly as much as it had before.
Hands fall to my waist, and I feel Marcus moving in behind me as I glance over my shoulder at the calfless man on the ground. “Well fuck me in the ass and call me Fred,” he beams, his fingers tightening on my waist with the utmost pride and respect. “Did you do this all by yourself?”
I swallow and glance back at him, trying to get a read on his face to make sure I’m not imagining things. “I, umm … yeah.”
“Fucking hell,” he murmurs, shaking his head in astonishment. “Look at that splatter and positioning. It’s like a fucking work of art. This is incredible. I couldn’t have done it better myself.” His gaze drops to meet my stare, his brow furrowing, and for just a brief moment, I could have sworn that a flicker of nervousness sweeps through his gaze. “Did you …” he cringes, pausing for the quickest beat. “Did you want me to box up the calf? I can preserve it for you like a fucking trophy. I know that tongue in my room freaks you the fuck out, but this … fuck, babe. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”
I arch a brow, the need to feel guilt over what I’ve done quickly fading away. “You know, the sincerity in your eyes sometimes makes me forget just how fucked up you really are,” I tell him. “Have at the calf. It’s all yours, but just so you know, that thing is not coming home with me in the car. You can strap it to the roof.”
Marcus beams at me as though all his Christmases have come at once. “I’m going to etch your name into his skin and put it on display,” he tells me as though it’s the greatest honor. “Have I ever told you how fucking incredible you are? Every time you’re thrown into some bullshit situation and I think you’re about to break, you go and do something that blows me away. Holy fucking shit, babe. If you don’t let me worship you for the rest of your goddamn life …”
“If you’re done getting hard over the guy’s leg,” Roman mutters, done with his brother’s overwhelming adoration. “We have a house to check.”
Marcus rolls his eyes but nonetheless, takes my hand and leads me through the house. I watch the boys carefully, seeing how they silently take in each room, making sense of everything that went down just by looking at the mess I left behind. They don’t ask questions, and I sure as hell don’t offer any answers, but I don’t need to.
They look behind every door, not leaving a single stone unturned while checking over every little detail that I missed. Phone numbers scrawled on torn paper, the amount of dishes in the sink, the trash sprawled throughout every single room. The disappointment torn across each of their faces tells me that they didn’t find what they were looking for.
“Come on,” Roman finally says. “Let’s check out the basement and then we can get out of here. Shayne looks like she could use a decent meal, a shower, and her own fucking bed.”
The boys nod and as Roman reaches for the small handle of the basement, my heart breaks recalling exactly what—or who—he would see down there.
Breaking free of Marcus’ hold, I race toward Roman as the door swings open, my heart pounding wildly with desperation to save him from the horrors he’ll find. “WAIT,” I rush out, barging out in front of him and squeezing myself between him and the door, bracing my hands on either side as the overwhelming smell of her decaying body rushes through the open door.
Roman stares at me, reading my body language as though it was scrawled across my forehead in bright red marker. “What don’t you want me to see?” he demands, his eyes narrowing to slits as that terrifying scar reminds me how careful I need to be when it comes to Felicity.
“Can you smell that?” Marcus murmurs, quickly glancing toward Levi as the three of them crowd around me, their interest piqued.
Levi nods and I glance up at him, my distraction only frustrating Roman more. “Shayne,” he snaps. “Tell me what the fuck is going on. Now.”
Fuck.
I let out a shaky breath, my heart falling right out of my chest and landing in a messy heap on my sleeve for the whole fucking world to see. I know he sees the pain and regret stretched over my face, and judging by the terror starting to form in his eyes, he knows exactly where this is going. “When I got here … she … I couldn’t …”
“Who’s she?” he growls, the sound vibrating right through his chest and sending a wave of unease sailing through my bones.
A heavy lump forms in my throat and devastation washes over me, but the longer I take to say it, the worse it’s going to be, so I suck it up, knowing that he needs this so much more than I do. “Felicity,” I finally say, my voice breaking with regret.
Roman doesn’t even give me a chance to explain before he grabs hold of me and throws me back toward his brothers with a ruthless force that knocks me right off my feet. And just like that, he’s gone, his footfalls echoing through the massive basement as he races toward the woman he loves.
The woman who will never be me.
7
Roman
Shayne’s body flies from my hands. I’m distantly aware of my brothers catching her before she falls, and fuck, I know I pushed her way too hard, but the moment Felicity’s sweet name came trembling from between her lips, all train of thought left me.
Nothing else matters except getting to her.
Taking two steps at a time, I race down into the basement that looks like a fucking whore house gone wrong. Cells line every fucking wall, half of them open, half of them with random women, their backs against the hard concrete, but the void of color in their cheeks tells me they’re long gone.
Two guards lay at the bottom of the steps, one with a gaping hole in the side of his neck while the other has a slit throat, but the way the blood sits over his body makes it clear the fucker was already dead before she cut him.
Without skipping a beat, I launch myself over the side of the rusted railing, not wanting to waste precious moments scrambling over their bodies as I try to find my girl. The guards aren’t important. We can circle back to that once I’ve got Felicity back in my arms.