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So as much as I want to look behind me to see where Jace is and what he’s doing. I don't. I run down the stairs, finding the exit door. I glance to the left and right as soon as I break through—nothing but an empty alleyway. How am I supposed to find a bathroom? There's nothing here. Absolutely nothing.

Biting my lip out of habit, I turn left just as another gunshot rings out.

I freeze.

The inner battle is to help Jace. I was taught how to fight, use knives, and guns. I was trained by my father, brother, my damn uncles and…Salem.

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks.

Before I know it, I’m turning around and running back up the stairs, taking two at a time. By the time I reach the top of the stairs, I don’t hear anything—no tires squealing, no guns.

Yanking the door open, I see dead bodies.

Five to be exact.

Growing up with the family that I have, burning flesh, bloody guys, and dead bodies don’t phase me. Nothing bothers me, but I don’t understand how one man could have killed this many people, not with his bare hands.

I don’t even know how many people were after me. I also don’t understand why Antonio wants me so much. I’m a mute girl with baggage.

A grunt pulls me out of my thoughts.

I snap my head to the right. A man stands there, his knees wobbling before I notice the knife that protrudes from his throat. He falls face first when my eyes move back up from the dead man lying there on the ground. Jace’s eyes meet mine; his filled with relief and anger, and mine filled with worry. It’s then I see three men dressed in tactical gear appearing behind Jace.

“Run!” Jace shouts, turning around towards them.

I freeze, unable to take my eyes off the madness in front of me. I’m drawn to watching Jace move around like second nature.It might as well be.He moves around fighting off three assailants like they’re not the same size as him, or even close enough to the same size.

“Run, Blake,” Jace shouts once more. I don’t know why I’m not able to move my feet, why I’m fighting against my basic survival skills. I need to run, I never should’ve come back up here, but a small part of me was worried about him. Jace somehow wiggled his way into my head with him showing me the smallest amount of kindness.

Another grunt pulls me back, and a painful cry echoes around the parking garage. The urge to run toward him is strong, but the realization that I wouldn’t stand a chance against any of them stops me. They’d kill me without a second thought—or kidnap me.

I retreat a step back, feeling foolish for coming up here. My heel bumps into something before I fall back. I know what I fell over, but that doesn’t stop me from glancing over my shoulder. One of the men lies underneath me, blood coating my hands. My eyes drop down… crimson covers them…

I can feel their hands on me, the knives pressing against my skin. I can feel every little thing, even if my body feels numb. I can feel Gabriel rubbing his thumb against my shoulder, and it should bring me some sort of comfort but all I feel is pain. I can’t stand to be touched anymore, but I can’t stop him.

So, I silence myself. Shoving my fingers into my mouth, I hold them there. I know Gabriel wants to question, but I can’t bring myself to speak. I can barely think.

Not when he pulls me into his lap, and not when he starts to hum low in his throat. Everything might as well be vacant. I don’t want to breathe anymore; I want them to end it. But I can’t beg because that’s what they want.

I lay here, breathing slowly, my eyes trained on the door, waiting for them to come back.

Because this is myhell.

So, when they open the door, his evil smile peering down at us, I don’t make a sound when he yanks my arm forward. I’m sure they pulled my shoulder from its socket.

“Let her go!” Gabriel yells. I should tell him it’s not worth it. I’m not worth it. I’m not worth the fight or the beating he's going to receive. But the words don’t form, the words don’t come. And worst of all when I see his head roll to the side, I almost wish he was dead. Being dead means no more pain. It means peace.

“Damn, this was almost easy.”

When I open my eyes, I’m staring right into a pair of bright blue eyes. The depth and warmth spreads through my chest into my heart. He stands next to two bodies…wait, where is the third? It’s then I realize someone is standing next to me.So fucking stupid.

“Let her go,” Jace’s icy voice fills the stand-still silence between the two killers.

“No can do,” the Italian voice comes from above me. I blink upward, finding Joe, the Italian’s enforcer. I’ve met him a couple of times; he and Zane fought a few times when Zane would do underground fights. That was until Aunt Salem put a stop to it. “Come on, man, she’s not worth it.” Joe chuckles, knocking his foot against my leg. I flinch, expecting more kicks to follow, only his arm wraps around my neck pulling me to my feet. My eyes widen for a second, watching Jace breathing heavily, his eyes searching around finding something he could use against Joe. But there’s nothing, there are no weapons. I close my eyes; this is how it ends. I knew I was going to die sooner rather than later.

“I promise,” I hear moments before a gut-wrenching, searing pain explodes in my shoulder. The guy behind me screams into my ear, shoving me away. I fall forward, my hands barely catching me before I roll over. Jace stands next to me, holding onto his chest.

“I told you to let her go,” Jace mutters right before he grabs the knife from the ground and plunges it into Joe’s stomach over and over. Finally, he drops him like a sack of potatoes, crouching down beside me.