Page 8 of Raw & Reckless

As we pull to a stop, the men from the van spill out onto the pavement, communicating with precise and silent hand signals. Onyx reads the tactical layout instantly. He kills the engine, slips out the passenger door, and moves to flank the alley and the van from behind, leaving me clear to focus entirely on getting to Layla.

I kick my door open, sprinting across the asphalt toward the glass phone booth. A massive wave of relief surges through my chest when I catch sight of her curled up tightly, crouching behind the metal structure.

But that relief is short-lived.

The first of the three masked thugs rounds the corner of the alley, spotting us. He charges forward, undaunted by my massive frame. I don't hesitate. I pivot, placing my body squarely between the threat and Layla, guiding her back behind me with one hand while my other fist cocks back.

“I’ll take out anyone and anything that threatens you,” I promise her, the words a fierce, growled vow.

Chaos erupts. A brutal, bloody brawl ensues in the span of a heartbeat. I throw a devastating right hook that shatters bone and cartilage, dropping the first man to the concrete with a sickening crunch. Onyx emerges from the shadows seconds later with silent efficiency, taking down the second would-be kidnapper with a swift strike to the throat.

I lunge for the final man, my hands wrapping around his windpipe with enough force to snap his neck like a dry twig.

“Phoenix, stop!” Onyx’s deep voice cuts through the red mist clouding my vision. He steps forward, grabbing my shoulder. “We need a hostage. We need more info on who’s pulling their strings.”

The surviving motherfucker tries to scramble backward away from us, snarling through bloodied teeth, “Go to hell, you aren’t getting a damn word out of me.” He unwisely leaps to his feet and sprints away… only to be clotheslined by Onyx. The man slams into Onyx’s outstretched arm and falls to the ground with a thud, knocking him out cold.

Onyx exhales a slow breath, tossing the truck keys through the air toward me and nodding toward our idling vehicle.

“Get her out of here. I’ll call for a cleaner and catch a ride with Stryker. He’s already on his way,” Onyx instructs calmly, stepping over the unconscious bodies.

I nod once, more than ready to wash my hands of this blood-soaked street and get Layla somewhere safe. I turn around, dropping to my knees right in front of the phone booth.

The shimmering tears pooling in Layla’s wide, beautiful indigo eyes absolutely crack my goddamn chest open.

Without a single word of hesitation, I scoop her up effortlessly into my arms, carrying her trembling frame over to the truck. I set her down gently on the passenger seat, leaning across her to pull the seatbelt firmly click into place.

“Do you trust me?” I ask, my voice raw as I cup her flushed cheek with my calloused hand.

Layla looks straight into my eyes, her small hand coming up to rest over mine. “With my life.”

It’s everything I ever needed to hear.

I slam the truck door shut, race around to the driver's side, and throw the vehicle into gear. I crank the heater up to chase the bitter night chill from her skin, then slide my large hand over both of her cold, shaking hands, locking my fingers with hers.

“I’ve got you,” I promise, my voice thick with a fierce, unbreakable vow as I drive us away into the dark toward my isolated house on a mostly abandoned coastal highway. “I am never, ever leaving you again.”

6

LAYLA

The truck engine cuts out, plunging us into a quiet, eerie stillness. Phoenix kills the headlights and jumps out, rounding the front of the cab to open my door. When he reaches for me, I don’t even try to stand on my own shaky legs. I let him slide his arms under me, and he scoops me up against his chest as if I weigh nothing at all. I don’t protest. It feels impossibly warm, solid, and safe all curled up against him, and in this fractured moment, I never want to leave.

He carries me straight inside the cabin, bringing me into the living room and sitting down on the worn leather couch with me resting securely in his lap. He doesn’t say anything right away; he just holds me, letting the steady, powerful thrum of his heartbeat anchor me while I gather the shattered pieces of my thoughts.

After a long, quiet moment, I shift, leaning back slightly to look up at him. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice still trembling.

Phoenix’s eyes flicker down, dropping past my chin. His gaze stops dead on my neck, his green eyes darkening instantly. “Who did that?”

I furrow my brow in confusion for a split second, then realize what he’s looking at. The raw, angry markings left behind when my brother choked me just an hour ago. God, I had almost forgotten the physical violence in the whirlwind of fleeing into the dark.

“I thought I got to you in time,” Phoenix growls, the muscle in his jaw jumping violently. “Did one of those men put his hands on you? Fuck keeping a hostage, I’ll go over there right now and⁠—”

“No,” I cut him off, reaching up to gently grab his wrist. “It was my brother.”

Everything about Phoenix instantly stills. He doesn’t even take a breath as he processes my words, the air in the room dropping ten degrees.

“Tonight?” he asks, his voice dangerously soft.