Page 84 of Hearts Held

The men roughly rip off our masks. Sabini stands in front of me, one goon at my side and the other beside Tilly. The driver must have been ready and waiting outside the building.

“You see, Miss Brielle, I know your little boyfriend did something to my dear brother. Well, sorry, but you’re just collateral.”

As he makes that statement, I hear Tilly’s voice growling in the background. “When they hear about what you did to us, they will fucking gutyou.”

Michael tsks. “That’s no way for a lady to talk, honey.” Then he snaps his fingers and the goon next to Tilly begins punching her—one punch to her gut, another across her beautiful face.

I scream, “Stop it! Stop!”

A hand slaps over my mouth as Michael’s face comes flush with mine. His eyes glare into my soul as his fingertips dig into my flesh.

“Save it! You will only scream for mercy by my blows.” Then I feel the fire of a fist exploding into my cheek as he throws a left hook at my face. I slam onto the metal floor of the vehicle, pain radiating across my skull.

Then forceful blows crush into my abdomen, one after another.

He’s kicking me.

I can’t even scream, as the air is being forced frommy torso.

Tears well in my eyes and run down my face, but I can’t let out a sound. I clutch forward, hoping to grasp onto something, but the bastard stomps on my outstretched hand with the heel of his oxford shoes.

Tilly wails, “BRIELLE!”

I want to tell her it will be all right, that the boys will come and give retribution, but with each kick to my abdomen, the last strings of hope in my soul fray thinner and thinner.

Ten—kick.

Eleven—kick.

I try to disassociate. Try the old coping mechanism that let me live through the torment of my ex-husband.

Fifteen—kick.

I can taste bile and a tinge of blood in my mouth from the reflux induced by his exertion.

I can’t hear Tilly crying anymore, only agonizing moans from her location. Then there’s the sound of a firearm.

TILLY.

“What thefuck?” Michael exclaims.

Then a goon replies, “She reached for my gun, sir! She fucking made it go off, she shot her own goddamn leg. What was I supposed to do, let her shoot me?”

My sweet Tilly,NO! I must help her.

Buthow?

Despair etches into my veins.

At this rate, he’s going to make my organs hemorrhage, and Tilly could be dying.

Seventeen—kick.

Then the vehicle comes to an abrupt stop as Michael braces against the side walls of the ambulance to hold himself steady.

Men open the back doors of the ambulance. “Get them out and chain them,” Michael orders as he slicks back his hair.

I can only see so much with the tears swelling up in front of my vision. Then I feel hands on me, dragging me out of the vehicle by the legs, then hauling me up by my upper arms. The pressure in my abdomen erupts with more pain. I didn’t think the pain could get any worse than it was.