Cross’s shoulders rise and fall, his eyes building with rage as his face nearly turns purple.
“AAHH!” Cross hurdles himself across the room and attacks Zeek, they both crash to the ground. Cross slams his fist into Zeek’s face, before Zeek rolls over and returns the hit. The sound of fist on bone echoing throughout the hotel room.
Frank steps forward and Lip presses his gun into the back of his head, stopping him.
A blond haired guy with a Devil’s Dust cut on makes his way to me—Bobby, I think it was. He cuts the wrap around the chair with a Buck knife. Adrenaline pounds through my body so fast I don’t have the patience to wait for him to free my hands from the cuffs. I rip the Saran Wrap from my body, and run to help Zeek.
“Jillian, NO!” Zeek hollers as he spots me. Cross taking the advantage, gets the upper hand and is on top of Zeek, his hands around his neck. I don’t even give Zeek’s men the chance to interfere, I tense all my muscles, grit my teeth, and thrust my foot into Cross’s face as hard as I can. Rage drives my adrenaline. I want my gun, I want to kill him! Cross flies off Zeek, landing on his back. A dazed look crossing his face as his head makes contact with the floor roughly.
Zeek chokes, and pants rolling over on all fours.
An emotional growl erupts from my mouth, not feeling satisfied that Cross is still alive. I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants trying to calm myself, Zeek groaning behind me. My hands slide along a bulge in my pant pocket, reminding me of the cross from the rosary beads Zeek gave me. After all this time. It’s stayed with me, protecting me when Zeek wasn’t able to.
“Think of me or some shit” echoes in my mind. Nobody has ever stood up for Zeek. Assholes who terrorized him seemed to have bullied the only faithful few he’s had on his side.
Fishing it from my pants, my hands tied making it harder I pull it out, palming it. Flicking my gaze to Zeek, his eyes widen when he sees I’m not done.
“Jillian!”
Swallowing hard, my heart beats wildly against my chest as I look Cross in the eyes.
“I’m going to enjoy ripping you apart.” My words surprise me, coming from a dark place I never knew I had. Nonetheless, I don’t falter.
I step forward, crouching down and slam the end of the pendant into his chest with all my might. Blood spits across my face, but I’m not done yet. I dig it deeper and deeper, forcing the wound to open more and more. Blood starts to trickle from my palm as I watch his chin resting on his chest, his gaze cast downwards at the cross protruding from his chest. His dark eyes slowly find mine, realization that he might die tonight flaring behind them.
“You don’t mess with family.” I tug the cross from his chest, a sob leaving my mouth. Blood pours from the wound, his chest heaving with pain. I turn, the bloody pendant in my hand.
His hand covers the wound, as his eyes cloud and his chest heaves for air. The adrenaline running rampant through my limbs dissipates, realization of what I just did beginning to sit heavy.
What the hell did I just do?
“You okay, baby?” Zeek asks softly, coming face to face with me.
“Yes, I’m fine.” The words get caught in my throat. Setting one of his guns down, he pulls and yanks at the cuffs. I wince, my wrists reminding me my skin is like raw meat.
“Wait, I got it.” Mac takes my hands, and pulls out a tool resembling a bobby pin. In seconds, my hands are free. It’s kind of scary how fast he is at picking the handcuff locks.
“Thank you,” I croak.
He winks. “Don’t mention it.”
Zeek’s hand clasps the back of my neck, and he pulls me in for a strong kiss. One that literally melts everything that has been sitting on my shoulders since I was taken. A warmth spreads through my limbs as I close my eyes and revel in the feeling of security. The smell of leather and spice comforting me. I missed this man, I missed him so fucking much. Kissing him, being this close to him after being ripped from his arms, I can say without a doubt that I’m his forever. Just like he said, I’ll never be able to leave him.
Zeek slowly pulls his lips from me, and I pout inside. Not wanting it to stop.
I look into Zeek’s eyes, I don’t want him to break the comforting embrace his arms bring. I know what’s going to happen next because the look of lust and love is fading into something black and ominous. Pulling his hollow gaze from mine, he focuses on Frank.
Zeek
I TAKE A BREATH IN, trying to calm myself but the fury raging inside of me cannot be contained.
Sliding my hair back out of my face, I glare at Frank.
He made this beast, fed this monster for years, and now he’s about to see his masterpiece firsthand.
Like the little bitch that he is, he tries to run. He doesn’t make it very far though, because Lip pistol whips him in the head making him fall to his knees.
Freeing my gun from its holster, I stride toward Frank.