Mal doesn't care about my woes though. With no further warning he takes hold of my hand, slams it down on the bedside table, and putting an enormous amount of pressure on the tip of the blade, cuts my finger clean in two.
There is some mind-bendingly cruel pain involved with slicing through a bone. This is the type of pain that even I don't enjoy, although I know it will leave an unpleasant residual burn when the throbbing dies down. For now it is more than I can cope with. The last thing I remember is watching my finger bounce off the table to the floor, as blood pours from the wound. Rivers of the stuff leak everywhere, staining everything around me, and my world goes a nasty shade of red. Thankfully I don't stay around to enjoy the party after that.
''Arper. Wake up.' The phrase is repeating over and over in my head. I want to tell Mal to shut the fuck up, but my voice is not my own. Neither is the rest of my body if I'm honest. My limbs feel weak and stiff, my stomach feels like someone has pummelled their fists into it, my whole body is now trembling. Am I going into shock?
'Say it, 'Arper. Say you love me.' We're back to this again? Seriously? Mal chops one of my fingers off and wants my undying love in return? I wonder how many women that trick has worked on in the past?
'Nnng,' is the closest to 'no' I can manage, but just so the bastard doesn't get the wrong idea, I shake my head loosely from side to side. He'll figure it out.
'You want me to chop 'em all off? This is how you want to go down? Maybe I should just cut both your hands off at the wrist and save us all some time.' Mal yanks my hand toward him, and my other hand that's still cuffed to the headboard protests painfully. 'Or maybe I should chop one of Gabriel's fingers off instead. Maybe that would inspire you to behave? What do you think, 'Arper?'
Oh, you fucking monster. This is between us. Except apparently, now it isn't.
Chapter Nineteen - Harper
'Come here, Gabriel!' Mal yells, thumping his fist against the table. In the other hand he is still holding the knife, which has my blood on it.
One glance at Gabriel tells me that this is the straw that will break the backs of a whole desert full of camels and probably a handful of coyotes too. There is no way he will take this lying down. Mal has finally gone too far.
Surprisingly enough, though, Gabriel does as ordered. Standing beside us, he waits to see what will happen next.
'Put your hand on the table,' Mal orders. Even through the vicious pull of the drugs I can see he's twitchy. His eyes are moving back and forth too quickly, and he seems on edge. I don't know what went down today, but something tells me it wasn't good.
'The right or the left?' Gabriel's voice is low and soft. You wouldn't know there was danger there, unless you'd had the privilege of being on the wrong side of him before, and I have. I know exactly what that voice means, and if I were Mal I'd get out of here.
'The right one. Now.' Mal bangs the table-top with his hand again so hard it jumps, anxious to get on with his dirty deeds.
'Of course.' Gabriel puts his hand on the table as ordered, splaying his fingers wide. Oh my God. I cannot look. It's bad enough when it's happening to me. It's ten times worse now that he's threatening to do it to someone else.
'Say the words, Harper, and this all stops.' My monster waves the knife around, which is my cue to lie my ass off. I can be the tough gal when my life is on the line, but I can't watch someone else be tortured. He's won this round. I can't fight this.
'F-fine,' I stammer. Thankfully my voice is coming back. I don't know whether the drugs are wearing off or whether adrenaline has jump-started my system, but for whatever reason I'm grateful.
'Say it!' he barks, losing patience with me.
Opening my mouth, I get ready to say the three little words he's so desperate to hear, even if they will be the biggest, fattest lies I've ever told. I can't do anything less. Gabriel will still lose his fingers because that's the way Mal works, but at least I will have tried. I owe him that much.
Looking into those cold, dead grey eyes, I feel my head swim with undercurrents that can't be controlled. What was in that drug cocktail? If I live to see tomorrow morning, I am going to have one hell of a hangover. Meanwhile, the knife hovers above Gabriel's hand, the blade glinting viciously in the artificial light. Say the words. Let's get this over with, Harper.
'I...' I don't get the chance to finish the sentence because Mal's cell phone begins ringing and vibrating. Snatching it off the desk he rises to his feet and strides away from us, out of the room. That's when I notice something important. Looking at Gabriel, who's still hovering over the bedside table, my eyes dip down to the glass of whisky that was full the last time I looked at it. Now it's empty.
'Did you drink that, or did Mal?' I'm almost afraid to ask. If Gabriel has just swallowed that we can kiss goodbye any chance we have of escape. In less than five minutes Gabriel will be about as useful as Long John Silver's second boot. Oh shit. This cannot be happening. I want to cry, but that's not going to be very helpful either.
Gabriel grabs my cuffed hand, and producing some sort of metal pin he starts to work on the locking mechanism. 'Relax. Your BFF drank it all up a couple of minutes ago, and he had a free refill. I'm just biding my time. Can you hang in there for me?' He presses his forehead into mine as the cuff around my wrist breaks open. I suck in a breath and squeeze back. I can do that.
'I swear 'hang in there' is my middle name,' I grumble. 'I've been hanging for years.'
Gabriel squeezes my hand again. 'Will you be able to walk in a few minutes?'
That's a good question. I have no idea. My head is a little less woozy than it was, but I'm still seeing shit that's not there. You would not believe the stuff that is going on in my brain. It's like a full-on Ibiza dance party back there. But at least I'm not getting violent. It could be worse.
'Yes, I think so.' I'll crawl if I have to, but one way or another I will get out of this place.
'Good girl. Won't be much longer now. I promise.' Gabriel pulls me into a great big bearhug, and for a moment I am almost conned into thinking everything might be okay. The man has that effect on people. He also makes my pulse pound, so at least that should help me try to get my toxicology stats lowered. I'm going to need all the help I can get if I'm supposed to try and run in a minute.
'Do you need me to do anything?' I'm not going to be useful for much, and I'm still seeing carousels and flying elephants spinning in my head, but I'll try to help where I can.
'No. Just sit tight. I've got this. I just need to get close enough to him. He'll be feeling pretty unsteady on his feet right now, so I'm going to meet him head on.' Gabriel walks towards the door.
'They'll shoot you,' I whisper, my jaw hanging open in horror. There are at least four guards out there. There's no way he'll come back alive if he goes out unarmed.
'Relax. I'll think of something. I'm good like that.'
I'm just about to tell Gabriel that he is one screwball short of an ice cream, when there's a loud bang. I have no idea what it is, but it doesn't sound good. We both look at each other. I'm mentally saying goodbye, and I have no idea what Gabriel's trying to say, but he's clearly not fond of long farewells because the door flies open and he's gone.
More gunshots follow. Shutting my eyes tightly I cower on the bed, wondering what on earth is going on out there. Whatever it is it does not sound pretty. All I can do is pray that one of them finds Mal as a target and that all the bullets magically miss Gabriel. I haven't got a hope in hell, have I?
My body decides that now is the time to start having violent tremors, and as I lean against the side of the bed I can feel my forehead banging against the wood. I am so hot. I feel like my body is melting from the inside out. I want to crawl towards the door to see if I can help Gabriel, but I am too weak to manage even that small action. Since when did I become such a pathetic creature?
I don't get more than halfway to the door before I vomit all over the floor. Keep moving. Somehow I make it to the door and with a burst of almo
st inhuman strength, I manage to swing it open. The sight that greets my eyes is like something out of a horror movie. There are five men in the room, six including Gabriel, and everyone is armed. Three guards are already dead on the floor and the remaining men are circling around each other. Mal, however, is nowhere to be seen.
Someone fires and my head snaps over to Gabriel who is holding his gun like a pro. His body twists as he's hit, and I watch him fall to the floor with an air of impending doom all around me. But what happens next isn't what I'm expecting. As the guards come closer to inspect their kill Gabriel springs up and picks three of them off before anyone can manage to get a shot out. He would have managed four, but a tell-tale click reveals he's out of bullets. When the remaining two realise what's happened shots begin to rain like hailstones, but Gabriel isn't anywhere near them. He's dived towards the guard nearest to him, feet first, and brings him down swiftly. The guard's gun is knocked out of his grip by the hard impact with the floor, and the two grapple with each other. It takes seconds for Gabriel to wrap his hands around his head and twist it sharply. There's the sickening sound of bones snapping, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's dead. Then before I've even managed to blink Gabriel grasps the gun which was skittering across the floor beside him and he's pointing it upward towards the remaining guard, who is towering above him.
They both aim their weapons at each other, fingers on the trigger, both breathing hard and wondering whether they really want to die.
'You don't work for Mal,' Gabriel pants. He's suffering, as he still has the weight of the dead guard on top of him and he can't move for fear of getting shot.
'You're not as stupid as you look.' The guard, who is around six feet six inches tall and at least two times the size of the average male, smiles. 'You do know you can't stay under him for long if you want your lungs to remain intact. Give it up, tough guy.'
Uh oh, that's like waving a red flag to a bull. There's no way Gabriel will go down that easily.
'Who do you work for?' The Mexican standoff continues, with the two men trying to size each other up. I'm not even sure who has the advantage. It won't be the easiest firing a shot into Gabriel as he has a dead guy for a human shield. On the other hand, standing on your own two feet without a dead weight on top of you has to be a bonus.
'Markovich. Who else?' Tall Guy shrugs. He thinks he's got this in the bag.
'Ahh, you want Mal's territory. That's what all this is about. Did you get the bastard?'
Gabriel seems remarkably calm for someone on the receiving end of a gun.
'No, he sprinted off before we could pepper him with holes, and his men protected him. You're all stupid fucks. If you don't know he's on the way out, you will soon.'
'I don't work for Mal. He's been keeping us captive in his back office these past few days. You've just done us a massive favour.' Gabriel looks behind Tall Guy, his eyes resting on me.
'Us?' Tall Guy grins. 'There's no way I'm falling for that line.' He doesn't even bother to survey the room. I've had hold of a gun for the past few minutes now, courtesy of another dead guy I found just outside Mal's bedroom door, so I fire it. Tall Guy's head snaps around in panic as the shot echoes around the room. The thing makes a colossal bang and ends up smacking me in the face as it recoils, which gives me cause to swear. As if I don't have enough lumps and bumps already. For fuck's sake. Anyway, the long and short of the matter is that I don't actually hit anything. How could I? I'm in cloud cuckoo land with the fairies and I'm seeing pixie dust at every turn. I never meant to hit anyone, either. All I needed to do was give Gabriel a distraction, and a beautiful one it was too. When he fires again he doesn't miss. Tall Guy now has a big hole between his eyes, and the expression he's wearing on his face is priceless. I shouldn't find this shit funny, but I do. Collapsing on the floor in hysterics, I wonder what life is going to throw at me next. When life throws you lemons...
'Wake up. For Christ's sake, Harper, wake up.' I don't wake up because someone is calling my name over and over again. Even though it's really irritating, I could probably sleep through that. No, I wake up because some cretin is slapping me about the face, and I take exception to that, especially considering what I've just been through.
Grabbing their wrist, I open one eye groggily and do my best to bite their finger off.
'Oh, thank God,' they say, which is really weird because it's not the kind of thing you say when someone has their mouth around your finger. I stop going Hannibal Lecter for a moment, to fasten my eyes on the annoying person who seems desperate to disturb my sleep. Blinking, I discover it's a bloke and I'm fairly sure I know him.
'Wow, you're pretty,' I say. I can't help it. I have no control over my mouth right now.
'You're still high,' Pretty Guy says, shaking his head.
'So sue me,' I reply, shrugging my shoulders.
'Do you know who I am?' he asks.
'You're pretty and unbelievably sexy, in a this-is-my-dreamworld-and-everyone-else-can-fuck-off kinda way. Have we had sex before?' My mouth is like a runaway train that thinks it's in an episode of Lost Girl - which basically means it's uncontrollable and up there with the fairies. Fuck. This is not cool.
'If we haven't we definitely should,' Tall, Dark and Handsome says. Oh God. I so need sex right now. I have no idea what's happened to me, but everything hurts and if that isn't a good enough reason to have sex, I don't know what is.
'I like pain. Did I mention I like pain in any previous encounters?' Clapping my hands over my mouth my eyes stare on in horror. It's a sure sign someone, somewhere is trying to tell me to shut up.
'Perhaps that's where I've been going wrong all this time.' My angel grins, and I'm sold. Whoever this other worldly being is, I want to be inside his pants inside of a half-hour. In fact, half an hour is too long. Five minutes sounds better. My eyes shutter closed because as much as I'd like to fuck the guy, I am way too tired to do anything. I have a feeling I may regret this tomorrow though.
'Wake up, Harper. We need to move.' The angel is slapping my face again and I have a feeling I'm going to have to demote him from his position of higher moral authority. Things are beginning to come back to me now.
'I crawled out here on my hands and knees in order to save your ass. I couldn't move another inch if this place was on fire. Go save yourself. I'm done.' I wave him away. 'Oh shit.' I then remember that Mal cut my finger off. 'I need to get to hospital,' I howl. 'Did you find the finger he cut off?'
'What finger?' Gabriel looks at me like I'm crazy. I shake my head, trying to clear away the lingering cobwebs. Bringing my hand up to my face, it's then I find that my finger is still there. My mouth opens and closes as I try to process this. Don't get me wrong, Mal has hacked into it pretty badly, but he didn't cut it off. Jesus. What else have I imagined? It doesn't bear thinking about. Anyway, that's just brightened up my day.
'If Mal's not dead, toss me a knife on your way out, darling.' I mean that too; Mal is not getting a second chance to dismember me.
'Tsk, tsk, tsk.' Gabriel shakes his head at me. I don't care. He can shake his head all he likes, I'm still not moving. I stick my tongue out at him. I actually stick my tongue out. I hope I don't remember any of this tomorrow. I want this to be a black hole of Star Trek proportions in my memory. I don't ever want a whisper of it to come back to me.
When Gabriel doesn't move, I decide to reiterate my position. 'I'm not moving. Go do your thing. Kill people. Take over the world. Save Brandt if you're feeling generous. Sort out world peace, yadda, yadda, yadda.' I wave my hands in the air. They make pretty patterns, even if they are covered in blood.
Gabriel rolls his eyes. 'I am going to save Brandt but I'll need your help, so get your skinny butt up of the floor and start walking towards the shower. We cannot go out looking like this.'
'I'm not moving. There isn't anything you can say that would make me change my mind.' I am exhausted beyond words, and while there is someone, somewhere that is yelling at me to hurr
y up and get the hell out of here, the rest of my body couldn't care less. I'm going with the easy option.
Gabriel is currently wrestling with a dead guy's jeans. They've got a bullet hole through them, but I guess it's better than walking around half naked. If he's not careful he might even set a new fashion trend. When he's finally yanked them off the poor guy and found a passable T-shirt, he drapes them over his arm and walks towards me. I stare at the ceiling. I am not playing any more. I've had enough.
'You're right,' he says, squatting down next to me. 'There isn't anything I can say that will make this go away.' He proceeds to sweep a couple of strands of hair away from my forehead with a gentle caress, as those wonderfully dark eyes attack mine. In the next minute he is straddling me, his hands sliding firmly under my neck.
'There is, however, something I can do,' he whispers, before his mouth attaches itself to mine like a heat-seeking missile bent on destruction of great magnitude.
Men are such utter bastards. One moment you're happily staring at the ceiling, waiting for death to come and claim you, and in the next you're in an adrenaline and pheromone-laced overload, thinking you can take on the universe. It wouldn't be so bad if he weren't so good at this. Every twist of his tongue ignites a line of flames in my body that sears me to my very core, and those lips need an insurance policy of their own. Within seconds I am lost. My hips are dancing upwards to meet his and they are in full-on party mode.
When Gabriel lets me up for air I can barely breathe, and what's more - I don't care. Oxygen is highly overrated. My hands are tangled in his mop of curly black hair and they are holding on for dear life. Mal has strung me out to dry for the past few days, with little hope of release, and now it seems to have hit me full circle. I. Need. Sex. Now.
Gabriel can see it, too. Gripping the back of my head he pulls me back towards him, so close our lips almost touch. I try to close the distance, but he's not having any of it. The asshole is going to string me along, I just know it.
Beautiful Tyrant (Enemies to Lovers - Dark Romance Book 3) Page 18