The momentum of my intended punch drives me to the ground. My fist plows into the dirt, followed by my shoulder, pain exploding through my whole body. It doesn’t hurt as much as the sting of hatred in my heart though. Nik knew just what he was doing. Stole the key right out my hands.
I aim a series of kicks at the stone coffin; so frickin’ stupid. And what the hell was he saying about Mae? How did he know she looked happy, that she was with Will? He must have seen her, been hunting her down for the Tarlequin. Nausea twists my gut and my blood turns to ice. I spin around, my tunneling vision hitting on Cynnie and I instantly drop to her side, setting a hand against her cheek.
She groans.
“Cynnie, you okay?”
Stupid, frickin’ no good lying son of a—my fist pounds into the hard ground.
Eyes still closed, she brings a small hand to her jaw and it brushes against my wrist. Her mouth barely opens as she squeaks out, “Hurts.”
A growl, almost animalistic, tightens my throat. If I ever lay eyes on my brother again, I’ll beat the living shit out of him. He’s more worthless than an oversized tick stuck to the inside of a dog’s ear and he’ll go after Mae next.
“Cynnie, you’ve got to wake up.”
Her lids drag open and her green eyes meet mine, confusion stealing across her face. I let my hand drop as she sits up. Her brows knit together. “He’s gone?”
Slipping my arm around her waist, I pull her to her feet. She’s so light it doesn’t take much effort and we both nearly topple over. With a series of taps on the port band we’re out of here, sliding through the inverted space of nothing and landing back in the warehouse.
I steer Cynnie toward a crate and sit her down. We’re not staying, but she can sit for the few minutes it will take me to set the coordinates. I turn around and that’s when I notice everything has gone to hell.
Frank’s not sleeping. Far from it, he’s still slumped against the wall like he was when we left, but now his mouth’s stuffed with a gag that wraps around his jaw. His bound feet are still and a stream of blood trickles down his face as his head lolls to the side.
For the second time in minutes my blood stills in my veins.
Reaching for my blade, I swing around and find Harris. Still conscious and sitting on a crate with his back stiff, he’s in a worse state than Frank. He’d be better off if he was unconscious. He’s more beaten up than Cynnie that day I pulled her out of the path of Nik’s fists. He probably can’t see out of either of his eyes and his face is completely ruined. Fiery heat flares through me, clouds my vision red.
I swing around and Cynnie’s eyes are wide like she’s slipped into shock. Damn it, I’ve got to get her out of here right now because whoever did this is more than likely still here. Two steps to the port-all and just as I punch in the coordinates, her shaky voice calls my name.
On full alert, I pivot so fast black dots swamp my vision for a moment.
Johnny crouches by Cynnie. His hand fisted in her hair tips her head back to expose her neck to which his knife is pressed.
“Fu—” I won’t let Nik’s foul language rub off on me.
In a single stride, my hand clamps around the psycho’s throat. My elbow knocks his knife away from Cynnie as I pin him to the wall. “What the hell are you doing?”
He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t even move. Just frickin’ hangs there, his hands clinging to my wrists, his eyes boring into mine. I thrust him against the wall. “What did you do?”
His eyes bug as he wets his dark lips with his tongue.
I shove him again and shout, “What the hell did you do to Frank?”
The little shit just stares at me.
“Jax,” Cynnie’s voice is a mile away. “Jax, let him down.”
I’m not letting the little twerp go anywhere. He’s a threat to every person in this safe house. Johnny splutters and gasps. His face . . . shit. I drop my hand from his throat and someone’s pulling me back. Frick. Johnny coughs and gasps; the noises coming from him churn my stomach, but the anger doesn’t fade. Spinner steps around me and fists his hand in the kid’s shirt.
“What happened here?” the older man demands.
I shrug off whoever’s hand rests on my back and say, “Deal with the little bastard, he did this to Frank and . . .” I gesture toward my friend, “and Harris.”
Spinner’s eyes narrow. “That true?” he asks Johnny and I know I’ve left the troublemaker in the right hands.
Johnny’s gaze skitters around like it always does.
“Look at me,” Spinner roars.
Johnny’s eyes move to Spinner and his jaw clenches, his face pales.
“You little shithead.” Spinner says, reefing him to his feet by the collar. “I ought to feed you to the Collective.”
Pulse pounding in my ears, I don’t need to hear anymore. I’ve got other important shit to deal with, so I cut across to the port-all and finish punching in the coordinates. When that’s done I turn around for Cynnie, but she’s not sitting where I left her. She’s at Harris’s side, his hands now unbound. A glimpse of Frank tells me he’s being taken care of.
“Cynnie,” I say, “we’ve got to go.”
“I can’t.”
She can’t frickin’ stay here without me. She can’t stay here at all, period. Someone will kill her in her sleep, surely she realizes this. Besides, I need to go. Nik won’t wait long before he strikes.
“We can’t leave Harris, look at him.”
She’s right. Bending at the knees, I tuck my arm under Harris’s and lift him to his feet. “Come on,” I tell Cynnie, moving to the port mat. “We’ve got to beat Nik there.”
She shoots me a confused look, but doesn’t hesitate as she slots her shoulder under Harris’s other arm and together we move him to the port mat. Once there, I slip the bands off my wrists and slide them over Harris’s, then carry out the four tap sequence.
We port.
With a thud, we land in the port room and my sights immediately lock on Will. The memory of his arms around Mae and his lips on her twists like a knife inside me, but now is not the time to deal with that crap. “Get Lilly or Martha, someone, we need help.”
Will’s attention flicks to Harris and before I can draw another breath, he’s out the door. I lead Harris to the chair Will just vacated and set him down. He hasn’t said a word since we found him, which isn’t good. Hopefully he’s still in there, still sane.
The minutes drag. Harris’s breathing isn’t right, a hissing accompanies each breath.
The guy across the room stares at us like we’re some kind of freak show. I can’t recall his name, but I avoid eye contact. My hands ball into fists, and release and ball again as Will takes his sweet-assed time. Surely it’s not that hard to find help. But I know help will come and we’ll be welcomed here. Suddenly the anger seeps out of me; we’re home. And if Will’s here then Mae’s safe. But if Nik hasn’t already stolen the Tarlequin he’ll come for it and soon. Since he’s got the sword we need to be extra wary, because that thing is far too powerful.
Footsteps echo along the hall, the sound of someone running like a bull at a gate. Seconds later, Lilly bursts into the room and dashes to Harris. I step out of the way and right behind her comes Mae, who pulls up short, her gaze colliding with mine. My heart stops for a beat, before taking off again too fast. Her cheeks flush, that gorgeous blush spreading across them and her mouth sits slightly open as she catches her breath. Frick, she’s beautiful. Watching her watch me, it’s like my world starts spinning again, but not the weird off-kilter spin of the past few weeks, back on course the way it should be.
“I don’t know,” Cynnie says, and Mae’s focus changes to her. Just like that we’re no longer the only two people in the room.
“Cynnie?” she says, her tone disbelieving.
Cynnie jumps up and Mae folds her into a hug before the other girl has so much as taken a step. Both their tiny frames jammed so close neither of them can likely breathe. Cynnie rests her head on Mae’s shoulder and her curls bounce like she’s shaking. No, she’s crying. Shit, I should’ve brought her to Mae sooner.
Finally, Mae pushes Cynnie to arm’s length, taking in the other girl with a look. “Are you okay?”
“Harris.” Cynnie gestures over her shoulder. “He’s not—”
“Yeah, a little help would be nice,” Lilly snaps.
I should be doing something. Anything, but I can’t drag my attention away from Mae. It’s like she’s water and I’m dying of thirst. If I don’t drink up every drop of her right now, I’ll die. I know I will and it will be damn painful.
She doesn’t look at me again, just rushes to Lilly’s side where they whisper. A few seconds later, Will barrels back into the room with Martha, puffing out his frickin’ chest like a peacock showing off its feathers. I get it; Mae’s not mine to look at. I tear my gaze away.
Martha makes a beeline for Harris, barging between Lilly and Cynnie. She presses her fingers to his neck then his forehead. Harris moans. Rising to her feet, Martha’s attention settles on me. “Let’s get this boy into a bed so I can check his injuries properly.”
The girls step out of the way and Will and I scoop Harris up from either side. He’s far too heavy for someone his size, like his body has completely collapsed.
We follow Martha’s march out of the port room.