Page 12 of Ruined

Jace grabs a hold of my bicep helping me to my feet. I find myself not minding his touch, not that I have time to think about it. He pulls me from the bathroom and glances between the door and where our beds are.

“Get under the bed,” he orders.

I don’t question him and crawl under the closest bed, making sure to face towards the foot of it. I can’t see much but Jace’s boots standing in front and the click of what I think is a gun. Then everything happens too fast. The door bursts open, and three pairs of shoes come into view, stopping when they only see Jace.

“Where’s the girl?” one of them asks in a faint Italian accent.Antonio’s men.

Panic claws at my throat, the realization that his men are here for me. And only Jace stands in the way of me walking out of here alive or in the hands of men who are surely going to beat me.

I grab onto Gabriel’s hand, dragging him back into the house. Salem has guns all around the house—my whole family made sure we knew how to use them. Even if I was blind, I could figure it out. I never get the chance before the explosion ofguns echoes around us. I’m thrown back before I can register the burning sensation running down my right arm. They fucking shot me.

“Henry!” Gabriel yells. Of course, why didn’t I think about my personal bodyguard?

“H-he—fuck,” I cry out. I bite my lip to stop the tears from forming. I refuse to cry because I got shot. Gabriel’s heavy footsteps come towards me, stepping on my hand. “DON’T STEP ON ME!” I scream. Fuck, I’m never going to let him live this down.

“Shit, sorry,” he whispers. “Ohmygod, ohmygod,” Gabriel is spiraling, and I don’t have the patience to handle him panicking while I try and control myself.

“Gabriel…” I hiss and my vision blurs. Blinking, I try to focus on the task at hand. “Look at me!” I yell. “Salem has guns everywhere in this house. Find one.” If I can’t go look, he can.

Gabriel gets to his feet. His legs wobble, but he doesn’t move.

“Gabriel!” I yell, spooking him into action. He runs into the kitchen, “Check under the kitchen table, I know for sure she has one under there.” My voice comes out rough. I know I’m losing too much blood. If I don’t get something to stop this soon, I’m going to pass out and I can’t let that happen. Looking around, I try to find something I can apply pressure with when Gabriel is suddenly thrown on the ground, and someone stands above him, kicking his side.

“S—stop!” I scream.

“Shut up, bitch,” he snarls at me. My eyes widen as I realize it’s… Henry, my bodyguard. I open my mouth to ask, to understand what he’s doing instead of helping us when he turns back towards Gabriel. “Stupid fucking slut. Damn boss, I can’t even understand what he sees in your ass.”

I’m shaking my head, confused, and in denial that Henry, who worked for my dad for so long, is now beating Gabriel, my brother's boyfriend. I know Gabriel doesn’t understand any of this, and I don’t either.

“Enough,” another man says as he steps forward. Bile rises in my throat as I look up.

“Boris, what areyou doing?” My voice shakes, my shoulder forgotten as I look up at my old guard. The one that was left in Russia. Why is he here? Why are my dad’s two guards not helping us?

Gabriel looks up before sneaking a look at me, both of us realizing that Henry and Boris aren’t here to help us. They’re the ones attacking, and no one is here to help.

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” Boris laughs.

I don’t see what happens. Boris knocks something over my head. Everything goes black.

“RUN!” Jace bellows. Shaking my head, I’m frozen as the memories threaten to take hold of me again. Panic claws my chest, and bile rises in my throat. I swallow it back when I hear Jace grunt again. “Fuck,” he hisses. Desperation finally kicks me in the rear, and I crawl out from under the bed.

My eyes immediately are drawn to the dead guy on the ground, his eyes vacant.

“RUN goddamnit,” Jace growls out. My eyes widen when I see Jace struggling to get the upper hand. He opens his mouth to yell at me again, but I’m already moving towards the door, running into the motel hallway until I reach the exit and into the fresh cold air. Looking behind me, I make it two feet before I run smack dab into a hard chest. Flying back, I hiss when my ass hits the concrete. He grabs at my ankle, and I kick, trying to get him off me.

“Ah, fucking bitch!” he yells when my foot connects with his dick. I smile, scrambling to my feet. My fight-or-flight instincts finally catch up, and turning around, I catch Jace’s car from the corner of my eye. I can hide under that until he comes to find me. Jace will find me. I refuse to let myself think something will happen to him.

I’m yanked by my hair, something hitting the side of my head. Black dots invade my vision and my brain pounds against my skull. I wince when he pulls me by my hair, my back flattening against his chest.

“Antonio sends his regards,” he breathes into my neck.

No. No. No.

There’s a difference between saying, “I might as well turn myself over to the Capo of the Italian Mafia” and actually doing it. But it’s the way this man—whoever he is, is standing behind me. Something’s different about this whole situation.

They aren’t going to take me back to Antonio, they’re here to kill me. And something about that brings some sort of peace. I won’t be haunted by the past anymore; I won’t be scared of my reflection, and I can finally breathe.

I’m shoved down, my throat screaming in protest when my knees connect with the ground. I bite down on my lip hard enough that blood fills my mouth. I stare up at the monster that has come to put me out of my misery. A gun presses against my forehead. The beautiful thing about being faced with death, is the air that fills my lungs becomes a little easier. I close my eyes, a small smile playing on my bloodied lips.At least I’ll be safe…A grunt sounds above me.

---