Page 73 of Fury

I smile with gratitude. “Thank you.”

As we descend the steps one at a time, I screw my nose up at the damp stench. “It stinks down here,” I whisper.

“Death,” mutters Fury.

The first room we come to is empty, and Fury nods to the next. The cave-like doorways are low, and we bend to get through, finding Donnie tied to a chair. He’s not as scary with his dirty clothes, his swollen face, and his head lolling to one side.

“Shall we wake him?” Luna whispers. Fury nods, letting go of me to hold onto the wall. Luna steps closer, glancing back with worry before gently poking his shoulder.

Duchess laughs. “Give him a good shake.”

“I don’t want to touch him,” Luna hisses back. “Have you got a stick?”

I laugh, moving closer and grabbing Donnie’s hair. “Wake the fuck up,” I snap, and his eyes slowly open. “We brought you a visitor.” My voice is strong, unlike usual, and I’m almost impressed with myself as I turn his head towards Fury.

Donnie sneers. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” His voice is croaky from lack of water. I release his hair and step back.

Fury

I feelmy chest swell with pride as Xanthe steps back, leaving room for me to step forward. “Are you hand delivering her to me?” he spits, looking Xanthe up and down.

I grip the knife tightly in my fist. “Mine,” I growl, ramming it into his neck with force. The pain in my head intensifies, but I don’t give in to it. I need this. I inhale the metallic aroma, feelingmore like my old self. It’s only when his gurgling stops that I open my eyes again and stare into his lifeless orbs.

I retrieve my knife, wiping his blood on my jeans before gripping hold of the damp wall to keep my balance. “Are you okay?” Xanthe whispers softly as she places her hand to my chest and stares into my eyes.

“Ripper,” I mutter.

“Are you sure?” I nod once, and she exhales. “Okay.” She slips her hand into my bloodied one and leads me towards the next room.

Ripper is awake and ready, smiling wide as we file in like fucking amateurs. He hasn’t been down here long, his clothes still fresh, but he’s taken a beating. “Thought your Pres would be the one to end me,” he says.

“Surprise,” I mutter.

“It’s not even a fair fight,” he argues. “Me tied up, you . . . slow.”

My blood pumps faster, and I ball my fists in anger. “Was it a fair fight in the ring?” asks Xanthe. “Using your old lady to distract him?”

Ripper grins. “I’m so sad it’s going to end like this, Xanthe. I had my eye on you.”

She scoffs. “Like I’d give you a second look.”

“Oh, I wasn’t gonna get your consent,” he sneers. “Where’s the fun in that?”

That comment alone makes me realise the only place for the fucker is in the ground. I won’t risk Xanthe. As I plunge the knife into his thigh, he laughs. “Just thinking about her tight little cunt is making me hard,” he hisses, and I push the blade into his other thigh. “Bet she’s a screamer,” he continues, trying to push me into ending him quickly, but I won’t. The fucker had my child killed. He beat Jo in front of the rest of the club. Pieces of my memory return like a slideshow—Jo curled in a ball cryingwhile he beat on her, and me lying in a bloody mess on the floor, unable to fight back to avoid the wrath of my other brothers. I stab the blade into his shoulder, and this time, he growls.

“Die . . . slow,” I hiss, stabbing his other shoulder before stepping back. His clothes are soaked in the blood pouring freely from his wounds. “Scum.”

“You fucked my old lady,” he yells angrily. “It should be you here.”

“You beat . . . her.”

“That’s my business,” he screams. “You don’t get involved in another man’s business.”

“She deserves . . . better.”

“She’s a fucking whore,” he shouts. “No wonder I beat her. After you left, I let my brothers fuck her too,” he yells, and my blood runs cold. “For every day you were gone, she endured punishment. Slow, long, punishment.”

“You’re a monster,” Xanthe whispers.

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