Page 11

Vicious

A torrent of fear, sorrow, and disbelief coursed through me as I held her limp body, the warmth of her blood seeping through my fingers, her eyes gazing up at me in a final, heartbreaking look.

I didn’t need to hear her voice, the tremor in her hands said it all. Her eyes, filled with an unbearable amount of pain and anguish, conveyed a message that was far too clear and devastating for me to miss. The silent volume of her plea was clear, and I vowed I would fix it, even if it was the last thing I’d ever do.

There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her.

She was my life. The very air in my lungs. The woman I loved above all others. I now knew the depth of devotion Reaper felt. Everything suddenly became clear. I realized that there wasn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do, no act of violence or destruction I wouldn’t commit, all to ensure her safety and well-being.

And I would.

“Hang on, baby. Help is coming.”

I glanced around at the surrounding chaos, and it was clear to me that no one cared, as the love of my life slowly bled out in my arms. In my inaction and regret, I witnessed a chaotic scene unfold before me. Police officers were actively firing their weapons while simultaneously trying to corral everyone near them, rather than helping the person who needed aid. They were leaving no one behind. Even those men who were lying on the ground moaning, as a police officer stood by them, prohibiting them from getting up. My eyes fell upon the sight of Montana prostrate on the ground, showing minimal movement, as a police officer attempted to stem the heavy bleeding coming from his lower abdomen. The scene unfolding before my eyes was so surreal and disturbing, it felt like I was trapped inside a terrifying movie that I desperately wished to escape.

“Gregory!” I vaguely heard someone shout my name. I looked to my left and saw a ghostly, but familiar figure running toward me. I tried to make sense of how he was here when he dropped to the ground before me.

He was dead. I knew he was dead.

Savage said he was.

How was he here?

“Don’t move your finger, brother. It’s plugging her jugular,” he said, then whistled loudly as he packed gauze around her throat, when another ghostly face rushed over into the fray, armed to the teeth, using his own body to protect us.

“We need to get her out of here. She’s losing too much blood.”

What the fuck was happening?

Was I dead too?

How the fuck were they here?

“How? We can’t just move her.”

“We don’t have a choice.”

Questioning my sanity, I blinked repeatedly, the unsettling sight refusing to vanish even as my vision sharpened.

“Judge?” I muttered as one of my oldest friends smirked at me. “How are you here?”

“It’s been a long time, brother, and I will explain everything, but first I need you to keep your hand steady. Can you do that?”

I nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Maverick, stabilize her head. Vicious, you and I are going to lift her carefully, and no matter what happens, do not move your hand. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s go.”