Page 8 of The Devil’s Escape (The Devil’s Soldiers #7)

CHAPTER SEVEN

HULK

Maybe my blue-scrubbed angel will be my ticket out of here.

“Did you really think they would come for you?” Vlad taunts me as he slams his fist into my ribs again.

Fuck, if they weren’t broken before, they probably are now.

Every breath is agonizing, and it feels like my entire body is just one large throb of pain.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but it’s been long enough that I know Vlad has hidden me away somewhere that the club can’t find easily.

I know they’re looking for me, but will they be able to find me in time?

I have to trust they will. I just have to last that long.

Another blow comes to my other side, and I hear the snap this time. I let out a roar of pain, unable to catch my breath, and trying desperately not to lash out at Vlad in retaliation and hurt myself worse. I need to get out of here.

The only thing that’s different this time is Vlad’s alone.

I don’t know where his guard dog is, but Nikolai not being here means that Vlad is left unchecked.

Without the voice of reason to slow him down, he might just kill me.

Another blow to my gut has me groaning, unable to hold it back.

At this rate, I won’t be surprised if I have internal bleeding.

My entire body is black and blue, with some purple mixed in a few places.

When they let me go to the toilet earlier, I was pissing blood.

“Tell me what you know, and this all stops,” Vlad hisses, getting into my face.

I stare at him through bleary eyes, forcing myself to not look away or drop my head like my head is begging me to.

“How did you find out where the locations were? Who told you? Was it that bitch that fucked up our other operations? How?” The questions come fast, clipped, with barely a breath between them.

“Tell me!” he screams when I don’t answer.

My silence only enrages him further. He turns back to the table and grabs the whip.

I force myself to keep my face impassive, despite knowing the agony that’s about to come.

The man is skilled with a whip, and I can see why most men would tell him whatever they want to avoid the pain that comes with it. I’m not like most men.

I took it once, and I’ll take it again.

The first lash slices through the skin, further splitting open one of the other already gaping wounds he left from the last time.

I’m pretty sure he’s hit bone. I grit my teeth, trying to hold back the scream, but on the third lash, I can’t hold it back anymore.

The cry leaks out, and I can all but feel Vlad’s glee as he continues.

By the time he finishes, I’m in shock. My body’s shuddering.

My head falls forward, and I vaguely note the blood falling in a steady flow to the floor around me.

This might be the day I die. I don’t even care when Vlad comes in front of me, screaming and yelling, trying to get me to answer. I don’t even care when he hits me again, making my body jerk, but no sound leaves me. Vlad curses and rushes out. Consciousness wavers.

Maybe this is for the best. If I die here, I know I’m dying without revealing anything that Vlad wants. I’ve withstood the beatings and the torture. I probably should be grateful they haven’t started cutting off limbs or appendages, though I’m sure that will come if I miraculously survive this.

I force myself to think of them. My family. My club. The people who have accepted me since the day I was a stupid Prospect who didn’t know anything about life and the ones who I know will find me. Maybe I’ll be alive, maybe I won’t, but they’ll get to me.

I just hope they take down Vlad and burn him and his entire operation to the ground. I’ll be okay with that. I close my eyes, letting the darkness take me.

“What the fuck have they done to you?” I hear a voice whisper, calling out to me in the darkness.

It’s soft, gentle, even soothing, as if trying to coax me forward.

As much as I want to, I can’t seem to make myself reach for it, or open my eyes.

Instead, I just listen. Is my angel back for me?

Or is this some other angel that is finally taking me away from the pain and misery filling me?

Agony burns, whipping through the darkness with a swiftness that makes a groan wrench from my throat.

My eyes fly open, and the first thing I see is bright blue eyes that are full of grim determination, as well as pity and sympathy.

I feel a quick prick, and a slow burn of sweet relief almost instantly, dulling the pain.

“Angel,” I whisper, my cracked lips barely moving with the word.

“You’re not going to think I’m one while I heal you,” she murmurs.

“Get him fixed up,” I hear a harsh voice snarl from a distance away. Then a door slams shut.

“Fucking dick,” she mutters. If it didn’t hurt so much, I’d laugh. She’s spicy, my blue angel. “Alright, this is going to fucking hurt, so don’t try and kick me or anything, alright?”

“Never,” I slur, my tongue starting to feel thicker. Mmmm, those drugs are nice. Why didn’t I want these last time again?

She moves around behind me and I hear her hiss out a breath. “Motherfucker. You need stitches on most of these. This is going to suck for you, but if I don’t do this and get you cleaned up, you’ll die of an infection. What did they use on you?”

“W-whip,” I stammer out, still unable to give more than a whisper, and my head feels far too heavy to lift.

“Sadistic son of a bitch,” she grunts. Then she gets to work.

Who knew the hands of an angel could change to those of the devil? The burn that fills my body is pure agony, and I barely manage to keep the pleas for mercy from slipping out.

I don’t know how long she works on my back, but my entire body is covered in sweat by the time she’s finished, and even the pain relief she gave me is dulled. “Alright, I’ve done as much as I can here.” Gloves snap, before a light shines into my eyes, making me jerk and groan.

“Angel, you’re a sadist,” I moan, slamming my eyes shut instinctively.

“You have a mild concussion, and I needed to check it. Any nausea?” She pulls a stethoscope from her bag and puts it against my chest.

“Can’t puke if you have nothing in there.” Fuck, I’m so fucking tired. Cat naps aren’t doing it.

I hiss out in pain when she touches my ribs. Her lips thin. “Try to stay as still as possible as I check you,” she orders, her touch gentle as she runs her hands over my ribs on both sides. I clench my jaw but stay as still as possible.

“Fuck,” I finally hiss when she pulls away.

“You’re fucking lucky. Your ribs aren’t broken, and your lungs are clear, so we don’t have to worry about a collapsed lung.

But I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re cracked.

One more blow and they might break through and puncture your lung,” she tells me grimly.

She looks around, almost like she’s looking for something before whispering, “We don’t have a lot of time. Who are you? Maybe I can help you.”

“Kill me?” I whisper, watching her. I don’t know this woman. Maybe she’s a spy for Vlad, or she’s planning on trying to decide what to do about me.

“Not unless you want me to,” she whispers, stitching a wound on my chest. “Or if you did something worthy of death.” She flicks her eyes at me, but looks away as she gets the needle ready for the stitch.

“Captured for information,” I breathe. “I’m Hulk.”

She quirks a brow. “I’m Avery. If Hulk is your legal name, your parents must have had a crystal ball with how big you turned out. Gonna hurt, so brace yourself.” She starts to stitch and I have to fight to hold myself still. Fuck, that hurts.

“Dad was big,” I rasp brokenly. “Take after him.”

We don’t speak again while she works, mostly because I don’t think I can. The pain is low, but the feel of the stitches makes my skin crawl.

When she finally finishes, she whispers, “You serious that you’re not here for doing some bad?”

“Information,” I repeat. “Devil’s Soldiers.”

Before she can react to that, the door is thrown open, and she starts to clean up the cut on my face. “What the fuck is taking so long?” Vlad snarls furiously.

“You told me to make sure he lives, and that’s what I’m doing,” my blue-scrubbed angel—no, her name is Avery —says so calmly that I almost want to smile.

She seems so unruffled, but the slight worry in her eyes betrays her.

She grabs a vial and fills a syringe. “I had to stitch up his back and check on his ribs. He has a few other wounds that are already infected, and with everything else, he’ll be dead by morning.

” She moves around me, Vlad hot on her heels, face suspicious, as she pulls down the back of my jeans and quickly presses the needle into my ass cheek.

“This is a double dose of antibiotics,” she tells him, tossing the syringe back into her bag.

“He needs another dose in six hours. If he doesn’t, I guarantee nothing. ”

“Then I suppose you’ll be paying us another visit in six hours, won’t you?” Vlad says. “You already know what will happen if he dies before I’m good and ready, Ms. Clarke. Perhaps you should stay here for the night to monitor him.”

“And you know I have responsibilities, so no.”

“I don’t have to let you leave,” he returns, a thin threat sliding in behind his words.

Avery’s feet shift slightly, like she’s turning to face Vlad more.

What is she doing? “I’m not staying here.

Our agreement was I come when you need me and I leave when everyone is patched up.

You take money off my mother’s debt per visit, even if you think that you’re going to keep me here forever.

I have two children at home that need me, and I’m not leaving them alone.

He will be fine for six hours without me.

Me sitting here and monitoring him is a waste of time unless he’s dying, and right now, he’s not. ”

“There are many things you can do that don’t involve you staying in here with him,” Vlad answers. “Far more interesting things.”

Fury surges through me at his suggestion, but I stay still and quiet.

“And I already told you that I’m not a whore.”

Vlad hums, and that sets me on edge. He’s enjoying this.

Enjoying toying with her. He has no plans on making her his whore.

He has no plans for her to make it out of debt or alive.

“You may change your mind when you find out that your mother has added another twenty-five thousand to her debt. One she insisted that you pay. At this rate, Ms. Clarke, you’ll be long dead before the debt will ever be paid. ”

“We’ll deal with it when we get to that point. Now, if you need me back here in six hours, then I need to get home and get a bit of sleep. I have an early shift tomorrow and kids to get ready for school.”

Pity fills me thinking of her doing all of this and trying to take care of her kids. Is she married? Does her husband know about all this going on? Why the fuck would he allow this? I want to ask so many questions, but I keep quiet.

I strain to lift only my eyes to try and see them, and I get a glance at the two of them staring at each other, neither willing to give in.

I’m not sure if she’s brave or stupid for standing up to him, but Vlad must be amused enough to agree.

Or he’s plotting, and that will never be a good thing.

“Very well.” Then he walks around her and heads for the door.

Avery picks up her bag and follows, back straight, and she never looks back at me. Not even when she walks out and I lift my head in time to see Vlad shutting the door.

Darkness surrounds me again, and I let my head drop forward again. I gave her my name and who was looking for me. I don’t know if she’s going to help me, or even if she’s going to remember, but I can hope, and that’s all I have right now.

Maybe my blue-scrubbed angel will be my ticket out of here. Either back to my family or down to the devil himself.