Raw (Revenge Book 6)

by Trevion Burns

  Chuckling softly at being presented a pinky swear, Gage gave in and linked his pinky with Scarlett’s, giving his silent vow.

  ——

  After waiting fifteen minutes—just to be on the safe side—Scarlett and Gage found themselves shoulder to shoulder, walking down the dark hallways in the hull of the ship. As the son of the company’s CEO and the grandson of its Chairman, getting past the security manning the ship outside had been no problem.

  The dripping water that always made music in the quiet hallways was still hard at work, joining in with the sound of their deep breathing and the shuffle of their clothes as they moved closer to the “hotspot” that had earned Gage a gun to the neck. The hotspot that would either spell success or epic failure for Gage that night. The hotspot that would prove Linc had been right all those years, or dead wrong.

  Gage’s breathing picked up in time with his heart. A quick look at Scarlett, however, showed that she wasn’t nervous at all. Completely ready to give her body to a man she wasn’t remotely attracted to. Gage wondered how he’d failed to learn this side of her personality when they’d been engaged the first time around. Before he’d laid eyes on Veda and everything had fallen to pieces. Had Scarlett always been such a fearless, adventurous, borderline reckless, wild woman? Or, like Gage, had the contract they’d recently signed shaken her to the core, driving her to do things she wouldn’t otherwise do?

  He didn’t have long to consider the questions in his head because, before he knew it, they’d made it to the end of the hallway. Just a few feet shy of the “hotspot” that Kevin Brady manned. Just like they’d planned, Gage tucked himself into an alcove in the wall that hid him from view. They shared one last knowing look before Scarlett continued forward and disappeared around the corner.

  Gage slammed his eyes closed as her voice echoed through the empty halls a moment later. “I’ve never been down here before. My father will kill me if he ever finds out I swiped his keycard.”

  Still doubting that Kevin Brady could be so easily fooled, Gage clenched his teeth, wishing Scarlett was a better actress. Every word that left her mouth and floated through the halls rang false in his ears.

  But Kevin’s deep laughter came right after her phony words. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get a text like that from you.”

  “Where should we go?” Scarlett’s voice went even more hoarse than it was by nature as she propositioned him.

  “Why not right here? I can’t leave my post, and nobody’s around.”

  “It’s too cold and wet down here.” A pout laced her voice. “I need to be in a bed, or I’ll hate it the whole time.”

  A long silence fell.

  Moment of truth Gage thought. Either Kevin would reacquaint himself with basic logic and realize something was off, or he’d surrender to his dick.

  “I’ve got my Dad’s key,” Scarlett purred. “We could go up to the executive suite.”

  “I can’t leave my post.” His voice was less firm.

  “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” When another silence fell in, Scarlett sighed heavily. “Or, actually… you know what? Maybe this was all just a big mistake.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “You know what? It is. God, I knew it the moment I sent that text. I told myself not to—”

  Kevin beamed, “No!” in the way only a man on the verge of losing a piece of ass he’d been after for years could. He spoke again, more calmly. “No. I want this. I wanna do this. Let’s…” Another moment of silence, then a heavy sigh. “Let’s go.”

  Gage’s head fell, his chin pressing into his chest, stunned. Scarlett had done it. She’d been absolutely right. He really had underestimated a man’s unshakable penchant to throw away his entire life for sex. It hit Gage that even he was guilty of it—having thrown his life away for Veda on more than one occasion—and Kevin Brady’s actions didn’t seem so crazy.

  The stomp of Kevin’s combat boots rose as he and Scarlett made their way down the hall, and Gage pushed himself deeper into his nook when they grew closer to him. When he heard them turn the corner, entering the hallway he was hidden in, he held his breath. He wore all black, and his skin was deeply tanned by nature, but he still worried that Kevin would see him hiding in that corner as he and Scarlett walked by.

  Scarlett, however, ever the sly cat, was two steps ahead of Gage. Just as she and Kevin came close to the nook, she cupped the side of Kevin’s face and drew him in for a kiss. Kevin turned his head to accept, and the soft smack of their lips rang out. They didn’t break their stride as they kissed, and in moments, they’d passed Gage completely. Scarlett made sure to keep the kiss going until they were several feet away.

  It was official, Gage decided, as the stomp of Kevin’s combat boots grew fainter until they were out of sight.

  Scarlett Covington was a genius.

  He waited until Scarlett and Kevin had climbed onto the elevator at the end of the hall before he stepped out of the shadows and began back down the hall. He turned the corner, and his heart soared at the sight of the hotspot door completely clear. His hands trembled as he approached the steel door, fingering his keycard out of his pocket, the hallway suddenly feeling darker, colder, and more dangerous.

  “You were born into a rich family that spared you life’s ugliest lessons.”

  Veda’s words, words that had been meant to talk him out of that moment, only helped him power through the cold chill that raced down his spine. One swipe of his keycard made the door’s red indicator light blink green, followed by a click that indicated the lock was disarmed.

  Gage drew the gun he’d brought with him, the gun Linc had given him the night he’d set sail, and wasted no time opening the door. It emitted a high-pitched creak that floated through the halls, and he stepped inside as quickly as he could. He drew in a breath as his feet landed on a welded steel platform that was at least thirty feet high, closing the door softly behind him before he turned toward the room. Beyond the long, industrial staircase that greeted him, leading down to the concrete floors at the bottom, was a massive cargo hold.

  He frowned.

  This was what Kevin Brady was guarding. This was the reason he carried a rifle and donned full battle gear 24/7? A bunch of multicolored shipping containers and wooden crates? Gage’s confused eyes scanned the expansive hold. The walls were comprised entirely of steel, and bright spotlights cut through the darkness every few feet, highlighting the dust that had made a home for itself floating through the air. Large fans spun in the circular portholes at the top of the fifty-foot ceilings, letting wisps of moonlight flutter in from the starry sky outside.

  Eyebrows pinched, Gage began down the staircase, which was coming unhinged from the wall and proved to be a wobbly descent. His free hand clapped down on the railing as the staircase clanked and complained under his weight, the other hand still tight around his gun. His heart climbed up to his throat and picked up speed, making every breath leaving his lips quiver. As he descended, his eyes dashed across his surroundings, over each ten-foot tall shipping container, and he wondered if this had all been for nothing.

  When the door creaked open behind him, Gage swiveled on his heel with a small gasp, eyes shooting up to the door just as another guard—not Kevin Brady—glowered down at him from the top of the stairs.

  The guard covered the gun holster on his hip the moment he and Gage locked eyes.

  “What the hell are you doing down here?” the guard demanded, voice deep.

  Gage tightened his hold on the stairway railing while hiding the gun behind his back, still descending the staircase backward. That guard’s presence—the challenge in his voice—was all the confirmation Gage needed that he wasn’t down there for nothing. Whatever was in that cargo hold was something these guards really didn’t want to be seen. Something his father didn’t want to be seen. The same father who, Gage was beginning to suspect, hadn’t married his mother—but purchased her—like a woman walking the streets.

  When Gage ignored h
is question, the guard drew his gun, cocked it, and pointed it straight at Gage’s head. “Stop moving.”

  Gage paused, eyes widening.

  “You’re not cruel because you were never taught to be.”

  Once again, Veda’s words drove him, even as he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun, and he began down the stairs, moving backward, once more.

  “Stop,” the guard bellowed. “Stop. Moving.”

  Gage didn’t stop. He cleared the steps, his feet settling on the concrete floor, gun still hidden behind his back. A long moment of silence passed as the two men shared a look. Gage waited for him to shoot. When he didn’t, Gage swiveled on his heel and raced for the bright yellow shipping container directly behind him.

  “Stop!”

  The guard’s voice floated in as Gage unlatched the container and threw the double doors open.

  The wobbly staircase rattled as the guard pounded down.

  Gage didn’t know what he’d been expecting to find after throwing open the double doors of that container, but nothing wasn’t it. His wide eyes danced across the empty container, squinting softly, chest heaving. The adrenaline surging through his veins and the uncertainty squeezing his heart nearly took him out of his body, to a world so far away he nearly forgot about the guard still pounding down the stairs behind him. Snapping out of his haze however, Gage swiveled on his heels, just moments before the guard came up behind him and lifted his gun high in the air, rearing back, preparing to bring the solid black steel down across Gage’s face.

  “You’re not cutthroat because you weren’t built to be.”

  Veda’s voice was in Gage’s head once more, driving him, his gun-clad hand flying as he spun toward the guard, managing to whip him in the jaw with the solid silver steel seconds before the guard got him first. The unexpected strike sent the guard stumbling backward, his unlatched helmet flying off his head, revealing his bald crown. Gage followed as he staggered, waiting until the guard tripped over his own feet and hit the floor before he lifted the gun and caught him in the jaw again, using every inch of strength he could will from his heart as if Veda was there to witness him proving her wrong. The second blow sent the guard into a 90-degree spin before he landed square on his stomach.

  Adversary stomach-down, Gage didn’t waste a moment in kicking away the gun that had slipped out of the guard’s hand. It slid across the floor, stopping a few feet away from his helmet.

  Gage stared down at him and waited for him to get up, ready for round two. But the guard remained motionless.

  Gun still in hand, its silver body gleaming with the guard’s blood, Gage turned away and hurried to the red shipping container that sat beside the yellow one he’d just opened. He unlatched that one as well, and his heart plummeted when he found that container empty also. He tried the next one. Empty. The one after that. Empty.

  He cringed, utterly lost, but only able to stew on it for a moment before the sound of boots pounding behind him stole his breath. He turned on his heel just in time to find the guard right behind him, rearing back, teeth bared and stained with blood before he caught Gage square in the jaw with a punch that made him see stars.

  And then Gage was the one stumbling, tripping over his own feet as he tried to recover from the skull-crushing hit, his gasping breath suddenly echoing around him as he found himself tumbling into the empty shipping container.

  The guard was on him like glue, showing Gage just as much mercy as Gage had shown him a moment before. Taking hold of the neckline of Gage’s shirt, the guard stopped him from falling, but his compassion was short lived as he reared back again, punching Gage square in the nose and then once more in the mouth.

  Gage saw his own blood as it flew, splashing against the container’s white walls. As the guard continued to pummel his face, Gage could barely feel it, too busy worrying that this was the moment. This was the moment Veda would be proven right. The moment that would solidify in her mind that he wasn’t a fighter. He wasn’t a protector. He wasn’t strong enough. Not for her, or their future children. His head flew, back and forth, with each unrelenting strike from the guard’s fist, now stained with Gage’s blood. The guard gave one last, screaming roar before jabbing Gage in the mouth with all his might.

  The strike sent Gage flying onto his stomach, facing away from the guard. But even as a pain so incredible it made the world blur dashed across his skull, rendering him unable to think a single straight thought, Gage’s pride wouldn’t let him stay down. Limbs wobbling wildly, chest heaving, and with a string of blood dripping from his gasping lips, Gage pushed himself up on all fours, gun still clutched in his hand.

  He could turn around and shoot this son of a bitch. That would certainly prove him worthy. But could he really kill a man when he hadn’t found anything in that cargo hold that proved anything immoral? Anything wrong? As Gage looked over his shoulder and met the guard’s eyes, just as wide and feral as his own, he knew he couldn’t.

  So he released the gun, plopped on his butt, and faced the guard while holding both his hands in front of his face. He saw every last one of his fingers trembling, as well as the guard’s cringing face from in between them.

  “Okay!” Gage cried, letting his voice break. “Okay! Enough.”

  “Slide the gun to me,” the guard said, swallowing past the gasps racing up his throat as he accepted Gage’s surrender.

  Gage did as he was told, reaching behind him and sliding the gun over. It swirled in a circle across the container, coming to a stop at the tip of the guard’s boot.

  Chest heaving, blood dripping down his chin from his split lip, Gage gave the guard his best doe-eyed look, holding himself up with one hand while offering the other to the guard.

  “Can you help me up, please?” Gage asked.

  The guard looked in the midst of telling him to go fuck himself, but then something passed over him. Something that made his shoulders fall and his head tilt. His wide eyes moved to a squint, even as his own chest heaved from exertion.

  “Blackwater?” the guard asked as if he could barely believe his eyes.

  Gage licked his lips, nodding rapidly. “Yes.”

  “Fuck,” the guard cried, in the way only an at-will employee could when he realized his boss’s son was bleeding on the floor, thanks to the work of his fists. “Fuck, man, what the fuck are you doing down here? I’m gonna lose my god damn fucking job! Oh, shit.”

  “Listen. Hey!” Gage beamed, waiting for the guard to finish screaming a flurry of expletives, holding a hand out. “Listen to me. Nobody has to know about this. We can keep this between us, huh? As long as you help me up. Can you help me up please?”

  With a deep, heaving breath and another ‘fuck’ for the road, the guard approached Gage, offering a hand of solidarity to help him to his feet.

  Gage clapped his hand around the guard’s.

  “I love that you don’t know the right moves to make when you’re surrounded by a bunch of heartless, immoral, unthinkably evil pigs.”

  With a groan from the deepest depths of his soul, along with Veda’s voice in his ear, Gage squeezed the guard’s hand, gave him all of his weight, and yanked as hard as he could, sending the guard flying forward, deeper into the container. As the guard flew, Gage released his hand and leaped to his feet, tripping over himself in his haste to leave the container, grabbing hold of the door just moments before he lost control and tumbled to the floor. He spread his arms wide to take hold of the container’s double doors, getting one last look at the guard—who was still recovering from the unexpected pull, and hobbling to his feet—before he slammed both doors closed and engaged the lock.

  “Hey!” the guard cried out from inside the container, banging on the doors, making the locks shake and rattle. “Ah, fuck, don’t do this to me, man! Open the fucking door!”

  “Don’t know the right moves, huh?” Gage asked, swallowing thickly. He might’ve been bleeding from the mouth, shaking like a leaf, and barely able to stand on his own two fe
et because his head was pounding like the drums at a rock concert, but what he wouldn’t give for Veda to be there in that moment. To witness his victory—albeit a clumsy one—but a victory never the less. “How you like me now?”

  As he mumbled the triumphant speech only he could hear, Gage moved from one shipping container to the other, throwing open the doors on all of them, and finding them all empty. Determined not to leave that hull until he’d checked every inch, however, he didn’t let the nothingness deter him.

  As he made it to the final container, a royal blue one, and unlocked it, his head was spinning. After spending years as a hospital CEO, some part of him worried he might have a concussion, but as he threw open the double doors of the last container, preparing himself for the disappointment of being faced with another cold, empty box, his worry floated away. His thoughts floated away. Even the beat of his shredded heart floated away as it came to a grinding halt.

  As a tiny, pale arm plummeted out of the open door of the dark container, coming to a lifeless stop slung across the tip of his dress shoe, Gage’s mouth fell open.

  His eyes exploded to twice their size.

  His gaze slowly rose, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

  Dozens of eyes, just as wide with terror as his, met him from inside the container. Dozens of bodies, crammed in like sardines, shivering from atop a stained mattress soaked in urine and feces. Dozens of bodies that hadn’t yet finished developing—hadn’t yet finished living and hadn’t yet finished growing.

  Gage’s wide eyes dashed from one child to the other, none of whom made a move to run at the sight of him on the other side of those doors. All of whom looked at him with naked fear in their eyes, with their knees pulled deep into their chests, their soft weeps fluttering out of the crate and into the cargo hold.

  Their soft weeps entered his body, sharper than a razor blade, and shredded him limb from limb.