Page 24 of Scarred Sacrifice (Savage Sisters MC #1)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MORRIGAN

“I must say, your strong will is almost impressive,” Henry pants as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. My cheek feels like its busted, my right eye is closing, and my back feels like it’s on fire. I almost applaud him for still using a whip to torture people. Very retro.

I hang my head low, unable to support my weight anymore. The metal cuffs on my wrists are holding me up, and I’m not sure how long I’ve been here. I haven’t seen Nyx, which just proves he is full of fucking shit.

Henry walks in front of me and grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back and forcing me to look at him.

“Now that you’re subdued, I should bend you over and fuck you.

It’s something I haven’t stopped thinking about.

I think it would be the final thing to make you break.

To cave before me, to submit. It could be the only thing that saves you. ” He grins.

I grin back a bloody smile before spitting in his face. “I will never submit,” I rasp out defiantly.

Henry wipes the blood and spit from his face and raises his hand to slap me. He halts, just as an alarm starts ringing out. I frown, looking around, wondering what it is. If it’s a fire, I’m fucked.

He storms off. “What is i—” I hear him say, followed by a loud thud.

The door is pushed open and Nyx walks in, his eyes taking me in. “Shit,” he mutters as he comes closer to me. He uncuffs me and I collapse to the ground, having no strength to hold myself up. He grabs me, lifting me in his arms.

“Put me the fuck down,” I protest.

“I’m saving your ass,” he snaps back.

“Like you cuffing me to that wall and leaving me there for...” I pause, not knowing the answer.

“A week,” he says through gritted teeth.

“A fucking week!” I gasp, ignoring the fact that he’s running through the building, carrying me like I’m a sack of potatoes.

“From one cunt to another, fuck. Do tell me, what torture do you offer? I want to be sure I’m getting the best deal?

” I ask him sarcastically. As people around us are running and screaming, as well as gun fire, I ignore it, glaring at him as he continues to carry me.

He looks down at me briefly. “Do you think you could keep your smart ass remarks to yourself while I try to get us the fuck out of here alive?” he snaps.

“Jesus, you’d think a week of being stuck down there would have you…

” He pauses, ducking behind the stairwell as someone shoots at us.

The statue shatters above our heads, covering us in bits of marble.

“I’d what? Come out a shell of a woman? Cry? Be forever grateful that you have saved me?” I ask him.

He looks down at me. “Fuck, why did I even bother?” he snaps.

“Like fuck if I know.” I shrug.

A whoosh sound shoots past, just missing us. “Shit, we’ve got to move,” he pants, getting to his feet. I hold onto him, knowing if I had to run now, I would die. I’m too weak.

He makes it outside and takes off for the trees. Horses are running free from the barn as he runs across the grounds. We make it into the wooded area, where he stops for a moment to catch his breath. I move to get out of his hold, but his hands tighten.

“No, you’re too weak. We need to keep moving,” he pants, trying to draw in air.

I don’t argue. I know he’s right. He starts moving again through the wood, until the sounds coming from the house fade. Only then does he slow to a walk.

“So, you want to tell me what’s going on?” I ask.

He gives me a brief look. “Not now,” he states.

“You’re right. Why don’t you tell me over coffee and cake when we get home?” I mutter sarcastically.

“You always been a bitch, or is it just recently?” he snaps.

“Most of my life, but somehow, you just bring out the best in me.” I grin, then let out a hiss, forgetting about my cheek. I press my fingers to it gently, claret covering the tips of my fingers.

He walks for what feels like forever, and unable to keep awake, too weak from lack of food, my eyes become heavy as my head rests on his chest.

“Freeze!” I hear shouted. I slowly blink my eyes open. “Carefully place her down,” I hear the voice again. Nyx lowers me to the ground, and I turn to look around.

Shit, I know that voice. “Eden?” I call out.

“I got you, Mor,” she responds. “Just let me deal with him.”

“No!” I protest. “Cuff him and bring him back with us,” I order.

“Sure. Betsy, cuff him,” She instructs.

I hear footsteps approach. “Hands behind your back, and don’t try anything or you’ll be dead,” Betsy threatens.

“Betsy,” I sigh, turning to her and seeing her cuff Nyx. She grins and gives me a little wave.

“Nathaniel, you’ll need to carry Mor.” I look and see Nathaniel approach, and his face is murderous as he looks at Nyx. He bends down and scoops me up, his eyes searching my face.

“I’ve got you now,” he says softly, placing a kiss on my temple. My gaze lands on Nyx’s, and his eyes are as cold as stone as Betsy places a black cotton sack over his head.

“How are you supposed to recover if he is cuffed in your bedroom?” Eden protests.

“I have my bed. I will recover just fine. He is cuffed the other side of the room on the couch. I can’t help that is where the pipes are.

We don’t have cells here, not anymore,” I argue.

They closed them up ever since I went and killed my mother’s killer.

It has now been changed into a combat training room for us.

He would have hated it; it’s now one of my favourite rooms.

“Do you think you can stay still while I try and stitch you up?” Clare asks, concentrating.

Clare is our resident doctor. I mean, sure she was struck off, but it wasn’t her fault.

Her chief got forceful on her. She grabbed the thing nearest to her, which was a scalpel, and stabbed him with it in the eye.

It didn’t matter that other doctors came forward to support her.

The fact that she stabbed a leading surgeon in the eye and he will never be able to perform operations again was, according to the board, more important.

So, we hired her instead. She’s caring, funny, and knows how to fire a gun. All qualities we need here.

“Sorry,” I mumble, trying to not move my cheek when I talk.

“We need to know what happened, and you’re in no fit state to be interrogating him,” Bernie points out.

I widen my eyes, as if to say can we talk about this while my cheek isn’t being stitched up?

“I won’t be long. Only one more stitch and that should be it. I can’t hang around because I have a date tonight.” Clare grins as she ties off the stitch before covering it with a small piece of gauze.

“Who with? Want us to run a background check on him?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “No, I am a grown woman.”

“Fine, just be careful, and call us if you need anything.” She stands, running her fingers through her hot pink and deep purple hair. If you were to pass her in the street, you would never think she was a doctor with her tattoos, her vibrant kick ass hair, and killer heels.

“Where are you going?” Bernie asks.

“He’s taking me to Gino’s Italian,” she says as she grabs her jacket.

“Oh, nice.” Eden nods.

“Yeah, it’s my favourite place, but I’m not telling him that, just in case it’s a bad date. I don’t want him coming back to my favourite restaurant and ruining it for me.”

“Well, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I call after her as she leaves.

“So, do anything then,” she yells over her shoulder, laughing.

As soon as she’s gone, they turn on me, caging me in. I look between Bernie, Eden, and Betsy. “What?” I ask.

“You know what. What the hell happened in there?” Betsy snaps.

It occurs to me there is someone missing. “Wait, where’s Isabella?” I press. They exchange a look. “What?” I push.

Eden sighs. “It turns out this life wasn’t for her,” Eden states.

“So, what? She set us up? This entire time?!” I fume.

“God, no!” Bernie tuts. “She’s decided to stay at the Hive for a little while.”

I arch my brow. The Hive is the place we set up for those struggling coming to terms with whatever trauma they’ve gone through. “I knew there was more to it,” I state.

Eden nods. “Her night terrors were bad.”

I inhale a long breath before getting to my feet. I wobble slightly, and Bernie grabs my arm to steady me. “I’m okay. I’m going to bed,” I state, finally feeling comfortable in my cookie monster pyjamas.

“We need to talk, and you need to eat,” Eden protests. I reach over the bar and grab a bottle of whiskey.

“All I need is this and sleep. We will go over everything tomorrow, but right now, I just want to crawl into bed,” I confess as I shuffle towards the door.

“Well, at least let me help you.” Eden tuts as she gets to her feet. She links her arm with mine, helping to support me as we make our way down the hall. “Just answer me one thing.” She pauses. “He didn’t do anything else to you, did he?” she asks, concern pouring from her.

I shake my head. “No, just a good old-fashioned beating.” I scoff a laugh.

As we approach my door, we hear grunting.

Eden swings open the door to find Nathanial beating Nyx.

“Stop!” I yell, pushing forward as fast as I can.

Nathanial stands there, his knuckles busted and his chest heaving as he glares down at Nyx.

Eden pushes Nathanial away and I slowly lower myself onto the couch, checking Nyx over.

His lip is split, his eye is swelling, and his hand lays on his gut.

I lift his shirt, seeing a boot shaped bruise forming on his stomach. “You need to get out,” I growl.

“Fine, I’m sorry. I was just so angry seeing what he did to you,” Nathanial defends.

I glare at him. “He didn’t do anything to me!

He carried me out of there. Everything else is to be discussed.

Anyway, what happens to me, to the club, is none of your business.

You are a lap dog! All of this is club business, do you understand?

This is my club, our club,” I say, pointing to Eden.

“We have rules: you don’t like them, then there is the door! ” I yell.

Nathanial glares at me. “I’m sorry,” he grits through his teeth.

“Go get yourself washed up. We will talk tomorrow,” Eden orders. Nathanial sculks out of the room. “I will bring the alcohol and an ice pack.” She nods, giving me a tight smile.

I nod before sitting back down next to Nyx. I reach for my whiskey that I put down and open it, taking a long glug, feeling Nyx’s gaze on me. I wince as it burns, but then I hold out the bottle to him.

He takes it, taking a long pull. “Your friends sure have a funny welcome, or is this the interrogation I should expect?” he asks.

I take the bottle from him and take a sip. “Nah, I use jumper cables. He was just playing with you,” I joke. He grunts, wincing as he holds his ribs. “I’m sorry,” I state.

Nyx’s eyes, or well, his good eye goes wide. “I didn’t think you knew those words,” he mutters.

I flip him off. “None of what he did was okay, especially while you’re cuffed to the pipes. This isn’t how I run things,” I tell him.

“Run things?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Not today. I’m exhausted and I just want to sleep. Tomorrow, after I’ve had at least a bucket of coffee, then I will give you hell. You will bite back, and enemies can resume. Tonight we are just frenemies.” I smirk.

He nods. “Frenemies. So does that mean I can be uncuffed?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Absolutely not. I still don’t trust you and I still don’t know who you are,” I state.

“Same goes for you, Mor,” he says, calling me by my real name.

“It’s Morrigan,” I confess.

“Morrigan. As in the goddess of war and death?” he asks with a smirk.

“The one and only.” I grin.

“For what it’s worth, I didn’t lie. My name is Nyx,” he states.

Eden comes back in with the alcohol, cotton, ice pack, and a plate of sandwiches. I give her a look. “Don’t look at me like that. It was Bernie, and we all agree you look shit and need to eat. It is a club decision,” she says assertively.

“Savage Sisters,” Nyx mutters, putting two and two together.

I clear my throat. “Fine, I will eat something,” I relent. “But only because she’s made my favourite sandwich,” I add, looking down at the club sandwich with pickles, mayo, and mustard.

Eden smirks before giving Nyx a death glare. “Hurt her and we will kill you,” she threatens. I cough a laugh at her threat. She’s not the type to do it, and to hear her say it sounds weird and funny.

“Well, I don’t want to be killed, so I had best behave,” Nyx says, smiling.

“I mean it,” she adds.

“I don’t doubt it. I’ve seen your...” He pauses, looking at me to confirm what I am to her.

“Sister,” I clarify. It’s what we are; not by blood, but we are a family.

“Sister...” He nods to me. “… In action, and there have been times she’s terrified me.” He grins, hissing as it pulls on the cut on his lip.

I grab the cotton wool and put some alcohol on it before pressing it to his lip. “Ahhh, fuck!” he hisses.

I just grin. “Don’t be such a baby.”

Eden laughs. “Man, it will be easy to kill you. You’re just a big baby.” She cackles as she walks out of my room.

I continue holding the cotton to his lip, and he reaches out and lightly traces his finger over the gauze covering my stitches.

“If he isn’t dead already, I will kill him,” he growls.

“Get in line,” I retort. After removing the cotton and grabbing the ice pack, I lift up his shirt and place it gently on his stomach. He flinches at the coldness, and I give him a small smile. “Keep that there,” I instruct before turning and grabbing one of the sandwiches and hold it out to him.

He looks at it, then back to me. “How do I know one of your sisters hasn’t poisoned it?” he asks.

I roll my eyes and take a large bite out of it. “There, happy?” I ask with a mouthful of food. He smirks, takes it, and begins to eat it.

He moans. “Damn, that’s a good sandwich,” he mumbles around each bite.

I nod in agreement while eating mine. My stomach is grateful to finally be receiving some food.

Once we’ve finished eating, I stand and hand him a blanket and pillows before climbing into bed.

I reach for the bedside light. “Good night,” I call out.

“Night, Sparky,” he replies.