CHASE’S POV
“Why is Mason dragging this out? He never takes this long to relieve himself.” Ace paced, restless. Mason had ducked into a doorway, claiming a need to pee, and now thirty minutes had crawled by. Me and Ace stood outside the bar, watching the entrance.
I leaned back against the cool leather of my Range Rover, while Ace continued his agitated circuit. I pulled out my iPhone to text Mason, a curt ‘You okay?’ when a scream sliced through the night. It came from the alley beside the bar. Ace and I exchanged glances, and then we were running.
We found Mason on the grimy pavement, bleeding. Two figures from a rival gang—the Scorpions—were looming over him. They were pushing him toward a girl.
“Ace, check Mason. I’m going after those two,” I barked, already moving. Ace grunted an acknowledgment, dropping to kneel beside Mason.
ASHLEY’S POV
My lungs burned. I pumped my legs harder, each footfall a desperate rhythm against the concrete. These two Scorpions were gaining.
I knew this drill. My uncle—a knife-happy lunatic—had been chasing me since I was a kid. I’d become adept at evasion, at feeling the cold prickle of fear and knowing when to break into a sprint. He liked to slash at my back, but I’d never let him get close enough to leave a mark.
I was a breath away from shaking them when my foot snagged on a loose brick. I stumbled, pain blooming in my knee. A trickle of blood stained my jeans. Damn it. I hadn’t even been looking where I was going.
“Look who thinks she can run,” the lead Scorpion snarled, his voice rough.
“Please,” I pleaded, my voice trembling. “Don’t hurt me. I swear I won’t say a word.” A lie, of course. I’d report them to the police as soon as I could breathe.
“You think we’re stupid enough to believe that?” The second Scorpion, his face pale in the dim light, moved closer. “We’re not letting you walk away.”
“Please, just…don’t hurt me.” I choked out the words.
“I’m going to do what I want with you.” The lead Scorpion’s eyes were dark, predatory. He shoved me onto the ground, my back slamming against the cold pavement. “Then we’ll finish you.”
My energy was gone. I’d been running on fumes, fueled by adrenaline. The last time I’d had a real meal was yesterday. The cafeteria had been a nightmare—too crowded, too loud, too…vulnerable.
He knelt beside me, his hand reaching for his belt. “Let’s have some fun before you die,” he said, his voice a low growl. He ripped at my hoodie, tearing the fabric. Then he tore my crop top, exposing my skin. He started to undo my bra. I squeezed my eyes shut, whispering a desperate prayer.
Two minutes passed. The silence stretched, taut with dread. I risked opening my eyes.
Grey eyes met mine. A hand, warm and strong, was reaching for me. I threw my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder. Tears streamed down my face, soaking his shirt. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be safe.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, his voice rough but gentle. “Everything’s okay.” He rubbed my back, soothing the tremors that wracked my body. “Let’s get you out of here, get you warm.” He scooped me up, cradling me against his chest.
I was still shaking, my body numb with shock.
“Hey, it’s fine. I’ll carry you.” He didn’t wait for my reply, lifting me into his arms. I didn’t even register the pain of my bruised knee.
I was met with his warm arms again, not even caring about where he is taking me. God knows where.
I just know I wish I could stay in his arms for ever. I mumbled thank you before the darkness consumed me.