Page 23 of Healed

The house above looked like the Devils had taken my earlier instructions to bring the cavalry and interpreted them with their usual delicate touch.

A door hung from one hinge. Glass glittered across the floor. A Rider was face down in the hallway with his hands bound behind his back and Hacksaw’s boot between his shoulder blades. Somewhere further inside, a man groaned, and someone told him to shut the fuck up before they gave him something real to complain about.

My brothers had come for me.

All of them.

Because I had been too stupid, and too blinded by grief, to ask for their help in the first place.

Hacksaw looked up as we reached the hallway, his eyes sweeping over me once before landing on Dante.

“Jesus Christ, princess,” he said. “You look like shit.”

“Everyone keeps saying that. Starting to think you’re jealous of my natural beauty.”

“Obviously. Been losing sleep over it for years.”

Trent appeared from one of the side rooms, dragging a Rider by the back of his cut before shoving him down beside another two men kneeling against the wall. “We’re almost clear. Few runners got out the back, but Rachel’s handling it.”

A scream split the air outside.

“She’s been making new friends.”

Dante sighed. “Of course she has.”

“She’s having a lovely time,” Hacksaw said.

“Did she bring her potato peeler?” I asked, but nobody bothered to answer. Although I did see Chris shudder.

“Tell everyone we’re pulling out,” Dante ordered. “Anyone worth keeping alive gets tied up. Anyone who takes a shot at us doesn’t. We’re not hunting tonight.”

Hacksaw looked like he wanted to argue for half a second, but then his eyes flicked to me again and whatever he saw there shut his mouth.

“Understood, boss.”

“Where exactly is Rachel?” Dante asked.

“Out front, last I saw, boss,” Ant said, jogging over to us. “And let me tell you, the girl isn’t normal. She was threatening to remove a man’s balls through his throat and feed them to his children.”

“Romantic,” I muttered.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dante hissed. “Ant, go and get her. The rest of you, round the men up.”

Dante shifted his grip when I stumbled, and I hated him for noticing almost as much as I appreciated him for not saying anything.

We made it outside into the cold night air, and I breathed it in like it could wash the basement from my lungs.

It couldn’t.

Nothing would.

The yard was a mess of blood, smoke, and broken men. The fight had thinned into controlled violence now, Devils moving with purpose while Riders either bled, cursed, or wisely stayed on the ground. Bikes rumbled in the distance. Men shouted orders. Somewhere to my left, Rachel was standing with one boot planted on a Rider’s chest, looking like a blood-splattered angel sent directly from hell to make everyone’s evening worse.

Her head snapped towards us.

For one second, her face changed.

Fear mixed with anger, mixed with hope, and then… oh, God, and then she stormed over to us with all the rage of a giant ogre, despite her five-foot size.