Page 58 of Scar Tissue

Relief hits me so hard it makes me dizzy. “Jesus Christ, Fletcher. It took you long enough.”

He steps inside, pulling a keyring from a guard’s belt as he moves toward me. “You try storming a party of twenty-plus private securityalone,”he emphasizes, “and see how punctual it makes your ass.”

“Where the hell is he?” a voice shouts somewhere distant in the hallway.

“I don’t know! He came out of nowhere!” anotherresponds.

They’re still searching. Of course they are. They wouldn’t just let something like this go. But if that’s the case, what was with the silence?

Fletcher drops to one knee in front of my chair, fiddling with the keys as he finds the right ones to fit the locks. “Hold still,” he mutters.

“As if I have a choice.” I glare at him until he finally picks the correct one. Another voice echoes somewhere farther down the corridor. “Check the rooms!”

“They’re getting closer,” I whisper.

“Yeah,” Fletcher says with a scoff. “That’s generally what happens when you start shooting people.”

The last lock finally clicks and I stand up, suppressing the wave of dizziness that threatens to overtake me. I suck in a breath as pins and needles shoot through my body before I gain my equilibrium back.

“What happened out there? It sounded like half the building was coming down,” I ask.

“Whatever got the job done.”

The shouts are getting closer as the echo of boots thundering surpasses the door. “How many?”

“Did you not hear me the first time? At least twenty. But now I’m thinking my math was off.”

“And you thought taking them on by yourself was a good idea?”

He’s the one that glares at me this time. “I didn’t say it was a good idea, just the only one. Now are we done with twenty questions, or would you like me to secure you back in these shackles?”

Never fails to be a smartass at the worst of times.

“…found blood in the east corridor!”

My head snaps toward the door. Blood. Fletcher pauses for a brief moment before walking towards Thea’s door.

“Is it yours?” I ask.

“Does it look like it’s mine?”

I begin to shake my head in disbelief before he continues, “No, Harrison. I got a shot at him before his boys figured out what was happening. Hit him in the shoulder. Maybe—hopefully—clipped something important, but it’s kind of hard to tell when you have multiple men trying to put bullets in you at the same time.”

“And?”

“And, what? Do you really want to hash this out right now while they’re still looking for us—well, me. And he dropped. But then they dragged his bleeding ass out the back before I could finish the job.” He grabs the handle to Thea’s room, pulling it open, and anything I had to say dies on my tongue as I take her in. She’s hurt. Badly.

“Thea!” I rush to her side, cradling her face in my hands. “Fletcher, get these ropes off of her,” I bark as I try to cover her from anyone’s eyes but my own. She’s got cuts and bruises all over—from her face, her chest, they’re blossoming on her arms and legs—and I see red. The bottoms of the pantsuit she was wearing have been torn to shreds, and she’s bare underneath indicating they removed her underwear at some point. At that moment, I swear I will become their worst living nightmare. A breathing promise of retribution they will feel in every shadow, every footstep, every second they have left. And I will leave a reminder on each of their bodies that some men aren’t meant to be crossed—and that I’m one of them.

“N…Nat…” Thea groans.

“I’m here, sugar, I got you. We’re getting you out of here,” I whisper into her head as Fletcher cuts the last of the rope.

“You ready?” he asks me, and in any other moment I would lock in with him but all I can think about is getting Thea home, so all I do is give him a slight dip of my chin as we step back out into the lion’s den.

Chapter

Thirty-Three