Page 54 of The Burdens We Share (Satan’s Angels #3)

Dallas

Harvey is driving, speeding, and running through lights like a bat out of hell.

I’m in the passenger, loading bullets into two guns just in case.

Harvey and I have been through the military together, and now this.

We went through wars with much bigger guns, but this is the most important war of all and I’m not willing to take any risks when it comes to Ivory’s life and I know Harvey won’t take any on Brody’s either.

Slater is seated in the back beside Selene who looks green in the face. I tried to tell her to stay back, but Selene Stone isn’t the kind of woman who gets told to do something. She’s the woman who tells others to do things. I respect her all the more for it.

Harvey pulls into the gated drive and Selene reaches forward to hand him the keycard to the movie set.

It scans green and the gates swing open.

Harvey pulls in and immediately parks. Slater, Harvey, and I rush out and Selene opens her door, but I close it, shaking my head.

Her window lowers and she glares at me, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? ”

“Keeping you alive. Stay in the car,” I command, leaving no room for question.

She frowns, never the one to not be in control of something. Harvey adds, “Selene, just take an order this once.”

Selene scrunches her nose, “Fine. But if those three don’t come out alive I will personally see to it that the three of you suffer immensely.”

The thought of any of those girls, especially Ivory, not coming out alive causes bile to creep up my throat.

No. I refuse to accept that possibility.

I shove the thought back down as I nod, turning and racing towards the set.

Slater and Harvey walk on either side of me.

I hand Harvey his gun and he takes it, tucking it into his waistband.

I turn and look at Slater, “Remember when you called me all those months ago and asked me to track Aria down and I found her at the hotel where Rogan took her?”

Slater raises a brow as if not seeing where I’m going with this, “Yes. Why?”

My nostrils flare, “Because when I helped you, we made a deal. Remember?”

I watch as the memory comes back to him. “I remember. I promised you a favor.”

I nod, pleased with his memory. “Good. Now I’m calling in that favor.”

Slater is all business, “Anything.”

“If something goes wrong and I get compromised somehow, you get Ivory the fuck out of there,” I demand.

Slater raises his chin at me, “You wouldn’t have to call a favor in for that. I would never leave Ivory or Brody in danger.”

Harvey adds, “Aria and Ivory may not have been my favorite people in the past, but they’ve grown on me the way a wart would. If something happens, and you two aren’t around, I’m getting all the girls out.”

I focus back on the set in front of us, “I’ll make the same promise for Aria and Brody.”

Slater asks, “Do you still have that SWAT team on the way?”

“Yes,” I respond.

Harvey cocks his gun, “Good. Now let’s go get our girls back.”

Ivory

I SWING THE DOOR in front of me open, the one that Brody and Aria didn’t run through, and dart inside the mystery room. Calvin is hot on my trail and I take only a second to assess my surroundings. The only way out is the door I just came through. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I’m so fucked.

The only way out of this room is the way I came in, but that’s going to be near impossible with him blocking the exit and charging at me.

I grip the lamp pole tighter in my sweaty palms and lift it above my shoulder, ready to strike at the right opportunity.

I know a measly lamp pole isn’t going to cut it at the end of the day.

I need to find something sturdier, heavier.

I’m careful not to take my eyes off of him as I take in the room around me. It’s a set of our studio, instruments hung on the walls, replicas of our actual instruments on display only feet from me.

Calvin growls, “You’re really upsetting me, Ivory. I could’ve given you everything.”

I need to distract him while I look for a weapon so I scoff, “What’s everything?

News flash, freak. There isn’t a single thing you can give me that Dallas can’t.

I will never want you.” This does exactly what I needed it to do and he grunts, leaping forward just as I swing the lamp pole at his cheekbone.

It lands true and he fumbles a step back. I go to strike again, but my grip on the pole slips from the blood still pouring out of my arm and onto my palms, making a mess of everything. He catches the pole and uses it to pull me close and I quickly drop it to avoid getting even within a foot of him.

“Last chance, Ivory. I’ll give you one last chance to love me willingly before I force you,” his head turns to the side, a twisted gleam in his dead eyes and a slight curve of his crooked smile.

I raise my chin as I take retreating steps toward Brody’s drum set, “Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

His smile falls and his eyes darken, another side of him coming out.

He charges at me and I wait, freezing where I am because I know I’ll only get one shot.

When he’s about a foot and a half away, I reach down without taking my eyes off of him and wrap my bloody hands around the neck of my pink glittery guitar replica, and swing at the side of his head.

Bastard has taken so many headshots and he hasn’t fallen until this point.

No. Now he falls, the wind knocking out of him.

I don’t wait. I just run. I run full speed to the door I came through and continue running until I open the door Aria disappeared through.

It’s a stairwell leading to the second level of the set.

I immediately start racing up the stairs, my blood dripping from my arm and leaving an angry red trail behind me.

As I round the first flight, I hear the door open and I know it’s him. Fuck. Why won’t he just stay down or I don’t know, pass the fuck out?

I feel lightheadedness as I continue racing, taking the stairs two at a time. I know it has to be from overexertion and blood loss because my arm is just pouring. I refuse to stop running. I refuse to let him kill me.

I try to push through it the best I can, but my head grows dizzier and my speed slows.

I don’t hear him gaining on me. I only know he’s directly behind me when a hand latches onto my ankle and drags me down the stairs.

I scream as my head hits a cement stair and Calvin looks down at me with pure rage on his face. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

“Fuck,” I pant, “you,” my voice is breathless.

I kick my leg at him, but I’m such a fool.

I’m such a fool because I’m lightheaded and probably severely concussed after the fall I just took.

So much so that I don’t see the glint of silver metal as it stabs into the top of my thigh.

The scream that tears from my throat is one of agony and it’s all I remember before everything fades to black.