Page 60 of Tortured Souls
“We’ve got the parents. Heath? Trip? What room are you in?” I ask through our comms.
“Second floor. First door on the left.”
I waste no time. Saint and I take off towards the stairs, skipping two at a time. I finally reach the doorway and see her.
“Tesoro.” My voice is a mere whisper as I cross the room and kneel beside her bed, my arms wrapping around her neck and pulling her towards me. She’s crying. No, not crying. She’s sobbing. Her body is shaking between trying to catch her breath. I’ve never seen her cry like this. I’ve never seen her look so vulnerable and small, so broken.
Skylar Sagan is fiercely independent, and her strength is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. A small frame hides the power she holds beneath her skin. A true survivor. They’ve shattered her. Broken off her wings and tormented her beyond repair. But she’salive. She’s breathing, and she’s in my arms. We will rebuild together. This will not be her ending. I will ensure her life only sees light from this moment forward. She will never know fear or pain as long as we’re together. Which we will be. For all eternity.
“I’m so sorry, Saxon. You were right.” Her cries continue. Her grip around my neck is tight, fearing that if she lets go, I may disappear.
“Don’t you apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I should have listened to you. You were so right.” I shush her, the pain in her voice threatening to break me.
“I hate to rush this, but we need to move. She needs a hospital, Sax. She lost a lot of blood.” Heath snaps me back into fight mode. I need to get my girl to the hospital. Heath has a pair of sweats and a large sweatshirt in his arms. He always has an extra pair of clothes in his medic bag for this reason. He needed to strip her of her clothes to assess her.
Letting her lie back down, Heath and I begin clothing her slowly. Her bruises are swollen, and I can’t imagine the pain she’s feeling all over her body, but when I see the bruising between her thighs, I freeze. Grinding my teeth together, I try to focus and tear myself away from the rage that’s shot back to the forefront of my brain. I need to get her to the hospital. I will take care of her parents later.
“Sax, later man. We need to move,” Saint says from beside me, and I continue to pull her sweats up her thighs and over her hips. My hands are shaking with anger, but I breathe through my nose to calm myself.
“One thing at a time. They will pay with their lives. I promise.” Damn right they will. It will be the longest, most painful death imaginable. Guinness World Records may give me a medal for dragging out the longest murder ever.
Once she’s dressed, I lift her into my arms. Heath, Saint, and Trip lead the way back to the vehicles. Once we’re outside, Saintpops the tailgate. Trip runs in front of us, making a makeshift bed in the back for her to lie down flat. I wait for him to finish and lay her down, grabbing a blanket and covering her completely.
“You’re safe now, tesoro.” Kissing her forehead, I brush her hair back from her head. She’s exhausted, her eyes unable to stay open, so I tell her to sleep. Before she allows sleep to take hold of her, she reaches for my face.
“I love you, Saxon. I love you so much.” Her small hand cups my cheek. Resting my hand over hers, I kiss her palm.
“I love you too. So fucking much.” She finally gives in, and she’s out, the fear and adrenaline that’s no doubt been coursing through her body this whole time, evaporating and leaving her utterly exhausted. I put another blanket beneath her head so she’s more comfortable.
“BOMBS AWAY!”
First, a whistle sound fills the darkness of night around us, followed by the loudest earth-shaking explosion I’ve ever heard. Everyone ducks, and I shield Sky with my body. What the fuck is happening? Was that an explosion? Have more of the Hellstorms come to retaliate?
“Holy shit, it works!” Finn laughs to himself. Lifting my head from shielding Sky, I turn to see my psychotic friend laughing hysterically while looking down at what appears to be a fucking grenade launcher. Saint instantly grabs him by the collar.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!? A grenade launcher? Where the fuck did you even get that?” Saint yells at him, as the house we just left is engulfed in flames. “You could have blown us all up!”
“Honestly, I thought it was an ancient relic. I didn’t think it would actually work.” Finn’s maniacal laughter makes Trip, Mich, and Enzo laugh as well. Brooks looks annoyed and unfazed while Owen is in a trance, looking at the burning house.
“Where the fuck did you get that?” I ask, grabbing the launcher out of his hands and inspecting it for a stamp of any kind.
“I got it online from a man in Thailand. Pretty sweet, huh?” I shake my head at our severely deranged friend, shoving the weapon back in his hands before turning back to Saint’s vehicle and ushering everyone to pile in. We definitely need to get the fuck out of here now.
Making our way down the driveway, I’m thankful the guys retrieved the vehicles earlier so we didn’t have to make this trek again, especially with Sky. Her body is already in enough pain. As we pull out onto the road, I radio back to the van.
“Enzo, I need you to get Sky’s car and drive it back to Golden Heights. How are our extra passengers?”
“Will do, Sax. And they’re all taking a nice little nap. A few syringes full of night-night juice, and they were out.”
“Night-night juice?” Owen laughs under his breath. “Where does he come up with this shit?”
“We stop at the hospital in Golden Heights. She’s safer in our territory.” The drive seems longer than when we came. Getting Sky to the hospital becomes more urgent when I notice how pale she’s becoming. Her breathing is shallow, and her skin is icy. My racing heart makes it hard for me to remain calm, and just when I feel like the demon wants to come out again, we’re pulling into the parking lot of the hospital.
I tell the guys to leave and get our prisoners situated in the basement while I bring Sky in. Heath comes with me since he knows the extent of her injuries and can pass on his assessment as fast as possible. Sky is immediately rushed to the OR, my panic setting in as the nurses inform Heath about what they’re doing. I’m even more pissed when they talk in medical jargon that I can’t comprehend. I’m visibly trembling when I finallycrack. I can’t wait any longer. I push Heath aside, demanding the nurse to tell me what they’re doing to her.
“Listen, sir. She’s lost a lot of blood, and she continues to bleed. It looks like she’s suffered great trauma within her vaginal walls, and we need to go in and see where the bleeding is coming from.”