Havok: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance - Riley Rollins Page 0,89
We're going downstairs. Walk."
I had no choice but to lead the men through my house, past my parents' closed bedroom door, and down the stairs. As we walked, I held my breath, tiptoeing as gently as possible.
The tall one with the bitten hand led the way, while the shorter, fatter one followed behind me, his hand on the rope lashed around my wrists. When we got to the front door, the tall one opened it, and led me out of my house into the cold, dark night.
I was terrified of what might happen to me, but at the same time I was beyond relieved that we'd gotten out of the house without my parents waking up. I couldn't bear to think what could've happened if they'd woken up.
The men rushed me across the street toward a black van with painted-over windows, which was parallel parked on the side of the street opposite my house. They led me around to the rear of the van, and the tall one opened the door.
That's when Axl flew around the side of the van. His body sprung into action like an angry animal, a murderous expression on his face. In his hand I saw the streetlight reflecting off a shining blade. The tall one never saw it coming when Axl raised his arm above his head and brought the blade plunging down into the side of the man's neck.
I screamed under my gag, struggling to pull away from the short man behind me. I twisted my body, wrenching my bound hands out of his grip. As I did so, I met Axl's eyes as he yanked the knife out of the tall man's neck. Blood spurted out like a fountain, splashing over Axl's chest and face.
As my hands came free from the man's grip, I threw my body toward the ditch on the side of the road. As a young girl, I used to sit in the ditch and have picnics with my grandma. But this time I crashed headfirst into a huge block of metal as I fell, disorienting me. I realized it was a motorcycle as I lay dazed, coughing. I could see Axl holding the knife and the short man fumbling in his jacket for his gun.
The man never had a chance—Axl was too fast. His arm flew backwards like a piston, and then drilled forward, the knife plunging through the short man's jacket and straight into his chest. He let out an agonizing scream that melted into a bloody gurgle as the knife carved up his lungs inside his chest. Still laying on my back in the ditch, I looked on, horrified. The short man collapsed to the ground as his gurgling scream died out and his life left his body.
Axl left his knife in the man's chest as he raced over to where I lay in the ditch.
"Holly!" he said, his voice dark and husky in the night. "You hurt?"
I shook my head no. Axl reached down and pulled the gag out of my mouth.
"Axl, what the fuck," I said. I was now officially beyond freaked-the-fuck out. This was way more than I bargained for.
"Holly," he said, turning me on my side to untie the rope around my hands, "I'm fuckin' sorry. Those Reapers—they're filthy fucking animals."
As I lay in the ditch, everything felt so intense, so visceral. I was wide awake, and all my senses were working in overdrive. Finally Axl succeeded in freeing my hands. I reached up and he grabbed my hands with his, pulling me to my feet. He rubbed the skin of my wrists, which were raw and red.
"Holly," he said, looking into my eyes, "We've gotta get the hell out of here." He wrapped his hands around me, pulling me closer. I shivered, not realizing how cold I'd been. His embrace made me feel completely safe and protected, just like back in the pickup truck. It was magic—I didn't think anything could comfort me right now, but he did.
I nodded, blinking hard, trying to think straight. "I can go to my friend Brooke's house," I said.
"No. Fuck that," said Axl. "You're comin' with me until this blows over."
Oh my god, I thought. Not again. I felt my dream of competing at the indie film festivals slipping away from me. And graduation—I couldn't afford to miss any more classes. But what fucking choice did I have?
"What about my parents?"
Axl's forehead wrinkled, his eyes squeezed closed in thought.