“Believe me,” I smiled sweetly at him. “They’re definitely man enough.”
He leaned down, eyes level with me. “I know those three shits have certain tastes — certain darker tastes.” He growled. But trust me.” He leaned forward, and I shriveled from him as his lips drew close to my ear.
“Trust me when I say their tastes are nothing compared to mine.”
The blade slid over my skin again, making me shiver.
“Is your thing talking me to death?”
His eyes narrowed as he whistled. “You really want me to make this hurt don’t you?”
“You’re still talking.”
I knew I was pushing him, but I also knew I didn’t care. Because I’d figured something out about myself, there in that house with Oliver, Ash, and Erik. And as strange as it sounds to have learned it through submission, and giving up control, it’s the truth.
I’d learned a strength I’d never known I had.
I learned about that hidden part of me, deep inside — the part of me that was stronger than I ever knew I was, and the part of me that gave me a power I’d never known.
It was also the part of me that refused to cower to men like Ryan Cunningham.
“You know,” he hissed, leaning close and hefting the knife. “I think we’ll start with your tongue. And then?” He smiled sickeningly as he traced the blade down over the font of my shirt, down lower as his other hand stroked the small bulge in his pants.
“Then we’ll have some real fun.”
There was a whirring sound in the distance, something mechanical and chopping that came through even over the distant sound of the city below. Ryan’s brow furrowed, when there was a knock at the door.
“I’m still occupied in here,” he bellowed.
The knock came again, and he hissed as he whirled again. “What?”
Two men rushed in, looking grim. “Mr. Cunningham, sir!”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, what is—”
“There’s a helicopter approaching the building.”
Ryan frowned. “What for? I didn’t call any—”
“It’s not ours, sir, it’s—”
The glass wall behind us overlooking the city suddenly shattered under a hail of bullets as Ryan and the other man screamed and dove for the floor.
The helicopter pulled up, hovering even with the shattered window.
And my jaw dropped.
It was them.
More men poured into the room, guns blazing. Oliver and Ash returned fire from the open doorway of the helicopter, scattering the men as bullets raked the walls.
In the chaos of the moment, I lurched to one side, slamming over onto my side and feeling the wind knock out of me. But I also felt my arms slip free of the ties holding me. I scrambled, kicking free of the ties holding my legs as I made a dash for— One of Cunningham’s men suddenly hefted a large pipe onto one shoulder and leveled it at the chopper.
I froze.
Not a pipe.
A rocket.
Oh God.
The explosion deafened the room, shattering the shelves behind the man as the rocket thundered out of the launcher. The helicopter jerked up, pulling hard away, but it was too late. The tail erupted in fire as the rocket clipped it, fire and shrapnel ricocheting through the shattered windows as the chopper started to veer up and spin.
And then I did what I swore I wouldn’t in front of Ryan.
I screamed.
Chapter 23
Erik
Alarms screamed through the chopper, lights flashed, and sparks and smoke belched from the control panel against my face. I roared, jerking the stick up and hauling us up away from the windows as we started to spin.
I could hear the screech of shattered metal, and started to choke on the acrid smoke pouring into the cockpit. I glanced behind me, my face grim.
“We’re going down.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Ash hissed.
I slammed the sick left to right, fighting the loss of control as we started to veer wildly around the rooftop of Ryan’s penthouse.
I’d gotten one look at her — one fleeting glimpse of her tied to that chair in there before we’d been hit. And her face was the only thing flashing through my mind as the whole thing started to spin out of control. Not the fortunes we’d made, not the life we’d built.
Her, and the life we could have had with her.
I gritted my teeth, muscles straining as I yanked the stick hard, keeping us away from a neighboring building.
Mia.
Mia who was everything, for one quick flash of a second.
And then something in me snapped.
Fuck this.
Fuck going down like this. Fuck her tied up and in the hands of that monster being the last image I had of her.
I whirled back to my friends. “Fuck it. You ready to make this count?”
Ash grinned like a maniac, as Oliver nodded. “Fuck yeah.”
The helicopter veered wildly as I yanked the rotors down. “I’m gonna try for the roof!” I bellowed behind me.
“If we miss?”
I glanced back at Ash. “Then it’s been an honor—”
“Shut up.”
I grinned. “If I miss, it’s gonna be a long drop and a quick stop at the street thirty stories down.
He nodded grimly, and Oliver leaned forward. “Here’s a wild idea, what if you don’t miss?”
I laughed, feeling the rush of this — the danger and the adrenaline pulsing through me.
The helicopter started to disintegrate around us as I aimed us right at the roof at an insane angle.
“It should go without saying that this is going to be a rough fucking landing,” I roared at them as the city lights blurred around us and the roof came screaming towards us.
I jumped from the cockpit, lurching for the open side door along with my friends.
“Lock and load,” I muttered to myself.
It was go time.
Chapter 24
Ash
The crash is still a blur to me, even now.
We hit like thunder, the rotary blues shredding up the roof and shattering the other windows. The whole damn thing flipped, and that’s when the three of us jumped free, tucking and rolling away.
We came up firing.
Honestly, I wish I could say there was this big fire-fight, but that shit was fast. No one expected that entrance, for one. That and the helicopter itself took out about half of Cunningham’s guys as it went skidding and rolling across the roof.
The rest were just shocked that we were alive as we quickly made them very much not alive.
Gunfire raked the side of the wall next to me, and I roared as I darted out, dropping to my knees and leveling two more of the guys.
“Ash!”
I flattened as Oliver fired over me, dropping another goon with his shotgun.
The three of us shot our way past the last three of them before we went barreling into the stairwell and racing down the stairs to Cunningham’s penthouse.
“Not a step closer!”
We froze. There in the doorway of his place, all three of us bristling at the sight of Ryan brandishing a knife at her.
“Not a step,” he hissed, eyes darting around like a man who knows he’s cornered and just about out of options. “I mean it!” he squealed.
We kept walking.