Then a second voice, rougher. “This the one of the females brought in?”
I flop against Max’s back and just cry. I don’t have to fake these tears. The pain is so intense that I can’t seem to focus on anything else.
“She’s been fighting me since she woke up,” Max says, giving a slight bounce to make it look like I’m still struggling, though he holds me steady. Gentle. Careful.
Boots scrape.
They’re moving.
I feel them circle around Max…my pulse pounding in my ears. I can’t see them, but Ifeeltheir presence…like shadows sliding too close. Predatory.
“Let me see her.”
Max hesitates. Just for a second.
Then he adjusts, angling his shoulder just enough for them to see my face.
A hand brushes my hair back. I go perfectly still.
A low whistle follows. “Prettyandfeisty,” the man says. “Yeah, I see the appeal.”
Remembering to play my part, I suck in a deep and painful breath…and spit on the fuckers face.
“Fuck…you.”
Another man laughs behind him. “Would’ve kept her for myself.”
“She got a name?” the man wiping his face asks.
Max shakes his head. “Didn’t ask. Boss didn’t offer.”
“Smart,” the first man replies. A beat of silence. “Well, don’t let her scratch you up too bad on the way.”
“I’ll manage,” Max mutters, voice colder than before.
Their footsteps retreat, fading into the hallway.
Only once they’re gone does Max exhale through his nose, subtle but shaking.
His grip on my legs tightens, not rough…protective.
“We’re almost there, you sweet, brave girl,” he murmurs. “Just a few more steps.”
I want to respond. Want to tell him I’m okay.
But the fire in my ribs has flared again, and all I can do is hang on.
I stop struggling.
If Max needs me to start again, I don’t think I’ll be able to. The strength to fight is gone.
I don’t know how long I dangle there…seconds…minutes...before we pass through another door and the world explodes into blinding sunlight.
I want to cheer. I want to breathe in the freedom.
But I can’t.
“Fuck,” Max swears under his breath. “Damn it. All I have is my bike.”