by Sweet, Izzy
“Well, this time will be quieter, I promise.”
We slow down and approach the rest of the cars surrounding the police SUV.
The fact that we’ve managed to trap the fuckers in our own motel is lucky as fuck...
So lucky, I can’t discount unholy providence.
“Going to need your boot,” I say when we pull to a stop.
“I figured as much,” Uriel says before he pops out of the car much faster than I can move my ass.
Just as Lucifer said, every man we have in Garden City is here. Standing outside their vehicles circled around the SUV.
I spot Lucifer, dressed in his pristine suit, standing near Simon. When he spots me hobbling toward the motel, fury threatens to erupt in his eyes.
Raising my middle finger to him and Simon, I use it to motion them to follow me.
We can’t draw this shit out any longer than we already have.
“Ready?” I ask Uriel as we walk toward the door directly in front of the SUV.
I figure that’s gotta be the room they’re holing up in.
“What’s the count?” Uriel asks.
“Don’t count. Just kick the fucker in and get out of my way,” I say.
Pulling my Glock from the hip holster I’ve changed into, I switch off the safety and cock back the lever for a smooth fire.
“Here we go,” Uriel says and jogs up to the door.
I hear the other guys, my brothers, shuffling around as they move in behind us.
I don’t have time for anything but this moment.
This singular action will either ruin us all or free Sophia.
Uriel lifts his foot up and slams it perfectly against the door, right where the lock would be for the handle.
The guys inside the room probably thought the security lock would protect them.
It doesn’t.
The door literally goes flying off its hinges and into the room.
I guess that’s what happens when you have someone the size of Uriel kicking a door.
Thank the fucking Devil himself that this place is falling apart.
Moving in one fluid motion, I ignore all the pain my body thinks it’s in and find that place in-between worlds. The one where things slow down in my mind just enough for me to become the calculated killer I’ve always been.
Rolling through the door to stop in a crouch, I lift my gun and have a split second to figure out who my main target is.
My first round goes through a nameless patrolman who’s taking aim at the sudden explosion of the door.
Looking to my left, I spot Dickers lining his pistol up on me and pulling the trigger back before I can get a bead on him.
There’s a buzzing sound near my head, like a bee passing by my ear, and I watch Dickers’s eyes widen before he moves to pull the trigger again.
He’ll be too late.
My gun fires and I don’t miss.
The bullet rips through the left side of his body, hitting his hip.
Fuck. I hate body armor.
But at least the fucker is neutralized for the moment.
Dropping his gun, Dickers reaches down and grabs at his wound.
Gabriel comes flying through the door with his big ass assault rifle raised up. “Everyone fucking freeze!”
I bet that fucker has been waiting his whole life to say that to a group of cops.
Catching my breath and looking around the room, I keep expecting to see Sophia popping out and running to me. Running and wrapping her body around me.
I don’t see her anywhere though…
“Where is my wife?” I demand.
Jacob Morrison jumps away from the bed.
And I know instantly the only reason I don’t see her is because of him.
Slowly walking toward the bed, I see her laying flat and motionless.
My heart reaches for the soles of my feet and tries to rip them out from underneath me.
Pushing past Gabriel, I can feel each step is slowly weakening my body’s will to exist.
If Sophia is gone, I’ll die here and now.
My heart won’t last an hour without her.
I won’t need to take my own life, my body will do it for me.
22
Sophia
The sound of James’s voice pulls me out of the darkness that completely swallowed me.
Tugging me back from… somewhere… with its force.
“Sophia!”
Lights, sounds, and pictures assault my brain in blurry chaos as I open my eyes, nothing making sense.
I suck in a shrill, gasping breath of air only to cough it out. My throat aching as if I gargled a mouthful of razorblades.
“Fuck! Oh fuck!” James shouts in alarm then his beautiful face is in front of me. Contorted with pain.
“Oh baby…” he groans as he carefully pulls me up into his arms, bringing me to my knees. “Oh fuck, baby…”
I lean into his chest, still coughing my head off, as his shaking hands roam over me.
“Andrew!” James roars, and I wince, pain slicing through my head.
Keeping one arm around me, James reaches down between us and yanks a knife from his belt. Then he quickly slices the cuffs off my wrists.
My arms fall to my sides and the sensation of pins and needles shooting up to my shoulders brings more tears to my burning eyes.
“Let me through,” someone snaps with authority.
I recognize Simon’s sharp voice as he protests, “We still need to secure the room…”
“I don’t fucking care. Get out of my way.”
As if he’s unsure what to do, James seems to hesitate before he lowers me back down to the bed, helping me sit on the edge.
Then he squats down in front of me.
“Sophia,” James groans again as his eyes sweep over me, taking stock of my various injuries.
My coughs dying down, I peer into his face. Just happy to see he’s still alive.
Thank god, he’s alive.
Unable to stop myself, I burst into relieved tears. My entire throat aching as sobs bubble out of my mouth.
Noticing the two probes from the taser still embedded in my arm and shoulder, James curses under his breath and grabs the lines attached to them, quickly snapping them off.
“Fuck, what did they do to you, baby…”
A smooth drawl answers for me. “Looks like they knocked her around a bit and tried to strangle her to death.”
“Motherfuckers. I’m going to rip them apart,” James growls as I glance over his shoulder to see the man now standing behind him.
Dressed in a black suit and looking like he should be in a board meeting or gracing the cover of a magazine and not standing in a dingy motel room, I recognize the man instantly.
It’s Lucifer, James’s boss.
The most feared and respected man in Garden City.
White-blonde hair, piercing ice blue eyes, and a bone-structure that was sculpted by the gods themselves, he’s even more beautiful than I expected. More beautiful than any picture I’ve seen of him.
But he’s not as beautiful as James.
Noticing my stare, Lucifer’s eyes meet mine and hold them. For some reason I can’t explain, a shiver travels down my spine and my sobs quiet.
“How many times did they tase you, baby?” James asks.
Hands shaking, he reaches for the two probes still embedded in my skin only to pull back.
“Three,” I croak out.
“Fuck,” James curses softly, trying to steady his hands.
“Here, let me,” Lucifer offers.
James glances up at Lucifer and at first it looks like he isn’t going to accept his offer. But then he looks back to me and something he sees must change his mind.
Nodding his head in an abrupt jerk, James straightens and steps out of the way.
Lucifer moves into James’s spot, and something moves out of the corner of my eye, drawing my attention.
Stumbling out of the bathroom, Trent lifts a gu
n in his left hand and points it in Lucifer’s direction.
Reacting without thinking, I spring forward, crashing into Lucifer a second before a gunshot rings out.
“You motherfucker!” I hear James roar as Lucifer and I crumble to the ground.
Another gunshot cracks the air quickly followed by Trent screaming in pain.
My head woozy from how fast I moved, it takes a second for the world to stop spinning.
But as soon as it does, and I realize where I am, I wish it would start spinning again.
On top of Lucifer, I stare down at his face in horror.
“Are you hit?” Lucifer asks, eyes wide with something that could be surprise or concern.
When I cough out, “No,” his expression changes.
Becoming so angry… so fucking terrifying, I’m surprised I don’t embarrass myself and pee all over us both.
“You do not…” he starts to grit out between his teeth but stops to take a calming breath.
Grabbing me carefully by the upper arms, he lifts me off him and sets me to the side before getting to his feet.
Reaching back down, he grabs my hand and pulls me up before helping me sit on the edge of the bed again.
Hands wrapping around my shoulders this time, Lucifer’s fingers firmly grip me as he leans in and glares into my eyes. “You do not protect us, we protect you. Do you understand?”
Resisting the urge to gulp, because I know it will hurt like a bitch, I slowly nod my head.
“You are much too valuable, Sophia… If you ever, ever do something like that again…”
Trailing off, Lucifer closes his eyes for a second and takes another deep, calming breath.
“Matthew?!” James calls out, his voice thick with desperation and worry.
Eyes flashing open and glaring into mine, Lucifer calls back, “She’s fine.”
Trent screams a piercing, nearly inhuman scream.
I want to seek out James, to see what he’s doing, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from Lucifer.
Squeezing my shoulders, Lucifer finally finishes his warning for me. “You will regret it.”
Releasing me, he straightens away, and I can’t help but feel like a little kid who did something bad and got sent to the principal’s office.
I didn’t do it on purpose… It wasn’t like I was even thinking…
Straightening his suit jacket, Lucifer sits down beside me and grabs the arm with the probe still embedded in it. I glance over at him nervously as he examines the probe and the way it’s sticking out of my flesh.
Dragging Trent over to us, James drops him on the floor and promptly kicks him in the ribs.
“Fucking little bitch,” James snarls as Trent tries to roll away from him.
His face a bloody, snotty mess, Trent blubbers something unintelligible. And I notice that the arm that isn’t in a sling, his left arm, is covered in blood and hangs loosely at his side, bent at a wrong angle.
Almost like it’s broken so badly, the only thing holding it together is skin…
Bile rises in my throat, burning like a motherfucker, then I feel a sharp tug on my arm.
Looking at where the tug came from, I see Lucifer holding up the metal prong between his fingers, inspecting it.
James takes one look at my arm and the small puncture wound created by the prong before he bellows, “Where the fuck is Andrew?”
“Right here!” a dark-haired, muscular man says as he steps over Calvet’s dead body and comes jogging over to us. “I had to run back for my bag.”
Dropping the bag on the other side of me, Andrew yanks it open and asks, “How much time do we have?”
I feel another sharp tug, this time coming from my shoulder.
“I believe Simon said twenty minutes, twenty minutes ago,” Lucifer says casually as inspects the second prong.
“I did,” Simon says from across the room. “The Russians could show up any second now.”
Looking in his direction, I see him just inside the open doorway, glancing down at his watch.
“Shit.” Andrew says then I feel his attention on me. “Maybe we should do this in the car.”
“That would probably be for the best,” Lucifer sighs and fists the prong before shoving it in his pocket. “We should move this show to the warehouse before we end up in a firefight or worse.”
James gives Trent another kick in the ribs. “Thank your fucking lucky stars you get to live for a few more minutes.” Then he grins a wicked grin. “We’ll play in the car, though.”
It finally dawns on me what they’re discussing as Lucifer stands from the bed and Andrew closes his bag.
“The Russians aren’t coming,” I force myself to say, each word extremely hoarse and painful.
Everyone seems to pause and look at me.
“What was that?” Lucifer asks, arching a brow with interest. “The Russians aren’t coming?”
I slowly nod my head.
Simon straightens away from the wall and stares hard at me through his glasses. “That doesn’t make any sense… Why wouldn’t they come?”
I open my mouth to try to explain everything I heard Dickers say, but it’s so much, so many damn words, I don’t even know where to begin.
My throat is fucking killing me.
“It’s okay, baby,” James says, his face darkening with anger as he watches me struggle with the pain. “You don’t have to explain.”
“The fuck she doesn’t!” Simon snaps. “I need to know why the Russians aren’t coming!”
James whirls around to face him, and I’ve never seen him look so angry…
Face contorted with rage, he looks a lot like Lucifer looked when I was on top of him—fucking terrifying.
“My wife is no position to answer your questions right now, Spider. And I suggest you back the fuck off before I answer them for you,” James warns.
Simon seems to shrink in a bit on himself at James’s warning before he realizes what he’s doing and straightens. Sighing, he shakes his head and reaches up to lift his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose.
Dropping his glasses back down, Simon looks at James. “I meant no disrespect. I just really need to fucking know why the Russians aren’t coming. What’s changed? Is someone else going to be coming down on us? These things are fucking important!”
“Gentlemen,” Lucifer cuts in smoothly. “I have an easy solution that will work for everyone.”
Once everyone’s attention is on Lucifer, he pulls out his phone and slides it open. After pulling up an app, he holds his phone out to me. “Sophia, do you think you can type in what you know so we can put everyone’s mind at ease?”
I glance at James and Simon, taking in their tense faces, then nod at Lucifer.
Lucifer smiles a pleased smile as I accept his phone from him.
When I just stare down at the blank screen, wondering where to begin, Lucifer’s voice softens and he says gently, “We don’t need to know everything, just the important bits.”
Taking a little breath to steel myself, I decide to begin by typing in the most important thing first.
The Russians aren’t coming because they want to kill them. The Russians blame them for what happened to Alexei.
“Interesting,” Lucifer drawls out, peering down at his phone, and I sense the other men moving in closer.
“What’s interesting?” Simon asks, as if his curiosity is killing him.
Lucifer snickers. “You’ll see.” Then he asks me, “Will any other backup be arriving?”
I almost shake my head before I remember I can just type in the answer.
No. All their backup was at James’s…
I quickly erase James’s and replace it with our house.
That’s why the wanted to kill me. They wanted to kill me so they could call it in and blame it on you guys.
“Fuckers,” Andrew grumbles beside me and I look up in surprise to see him peering over my shoulder at what I’m typing.
“I agree,�
�� Lucifer says, his voice dropping to a near growl. “Is there anything else we need to know, Sophia?”
I think for a moment, remembering all the shit Dickers and Trent were shouting at each other.
Then my eyes seek out Jacob.
I see him sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall, with Uriel towering over him, aiming a gun at his head. Jacob doesn’t even sense my attention on him. No, he’s focused solely on his son, Trent.
Trent who is still squirming and wiggling around on the floor with two useless arms, crying and blubbering.
Tears streaming down his face, Jacob looks utterly broken and defeated. Like a man who is watching his entire world crumble to pieces.
I almost want to feel pity for him. Like… that’s my first instinct. To pity a person who is suffering and in pain.
I hate seeing others in pain, it’s always bothered me. For whatever reason, I can’t stand to see others hurting.
But Jacob had no pity for me when he was strangling the life out of me…
He even had the nerve to say my father would understand to make himself feel better about what he was doing.
My father was a good man. Yes, I know James said he worked with Lucifer, and I don’t doubt that he did. He probably used Lucifer to do what he couldn’t, just as James said.
And after everything I’ve heard today… everything that I’ve seen…
It only reinforces my belief that my father would never understand. Because he wouldn’t do want Jacob did. If the roles were reversed, if it was me in Trent’s place and my father in Jacob’s, my father wouldn’t try to kill Trent to protect me.
My father would turn me in for justice.
It would hurt him, yes, but he’d still do it. Because that would be the right fucking thing to do.
And now I have the chance to do right by him, and me.
Because I know… I fucking know deep in my heart somehow James will make this right.
Well, as right as he can.
Typing it in as fast as my fingers will move, I write out what went down with my father, Jacob, Dickers, and Trent.
I type out that Dickers and Trent were working with the Russians, but Jacob wasn’t. Jacob was just trying to cover up for Trent.
I end with: Dickers convinced Jacob to strangle me to death to save all their asses.