Nothing would prepare me for what I see around the corner. Holy mother of God. Leah. My fucking Leah. They did this. They fucking did this decimation to her, cutting her up like a piece of meat from some animal. Blood stains the once cream-colored comforter, and the pools of the sticky languid substance coat the rug and floor beneath.

The coppery scent clings to the air, assaulting my senses, and her low whimpers eat me alive. It looks like something you’d see on some twisted horror movie, except it’s not. It’s reality. My reality. Hell, her reality.

Horror seeps down into my bones, threatening to take my feet out from under me. I’ve seen so much in my day, but never someone I care about looking so brutalized. A sickness stirs in my stomach that flows throughout me. It’s a mixture of dread and… anger.

Rage like nothing I’ve ever felt scorches from the inside out, and it takes everything in me to contain it because she needs me to get her help right now, not go apeshit like I want. She’s all that matters, not my vibrating feelings of revenge.

“We need to get her out of here now. Len and Poe are on their way back to finish what they started,” Stone says, snapping me out of my shock. Grabbing a blanket, I wrap Leah’s fragile body in it, not wanting to move her, but I’ll be damned if those two assholes ever find her. I lift her as she gives small groans of pain.

Boot steps can be heard in the hallway, and Stone pulls out his gun aiming it at the door. Waiting to see who the visitor is, I debate on setting her down but can’t. If it’s Len and Poe, Stone will take them out with two shots. Leah needs to get to a hospital now. I can feel her blood soaking through the blanket onto my shirt.

“What the fuck, brother?” Tug glides into the room like this is just another day, and I have to admit—it pretty much is, unfortunately. Relief washes over me as he must have pulled off from the other guys and followed me here. My brothers always have my back.

Ravage MC. My family. My life.

“Ambulance is coming, which means cops. Len and Poe are supposed to come here to get Leah. Need you to cut them off before they see the cops here.” I eye my brother, silently communicating what needs to be done to these wastes of human space.

Tug cracks his knuckles and looks at Stone. “You in on this?”

“Fuck yeah!”

Tug lays it out. “You go by my call. This is Ravage cleanup, got me?” Stone is part of the Sinister Sons MC here in Florida. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t fly, but from the pissed off look of Stone, it will—this once.

I turn to the door just as I hear, “Got it,” from Stone.

Calling over my shoulder, “I want updates on this shit. I’ll be at the hospital.”

Lights flash everywhere as I walk out carrying a very limp Leah. The cops are first to arrive on the scene, and as they take me in then look to Leah everything on their radar goes up. They become more attentive to me instead of the bleeding woman in my arms. It makes me furious, but I’m too damn scared I’m holding what will be a dead Leah to give a shit.

“What happened?” the cop with the dark brown hair and hand on his gun asks me.

“She’s hurt. I got here and saw her like this…” My voice cracks and I clear my throat, choking on my words. Describing the scene makes bile rise in my throat. It will be forever imprinted in my brain. The cop surprisingly takes his time with me.

Suddenly the sirens get closer, and the EMT arrives. Ignoring the cops, we dart to the back of the truck as a woman and a man round the vehicle to us. The clanking of the doors mixed with the sirens and lights will not be something that I’ll forget anytime soon. The panic and desperation to get her help claws at my insides, threatening to bleed me dry.

Gently, I place her on the gurney they just pulled out. Leah groans and whimpers. Struggling not to grab her hand and let these two work, I rip my bloodstained hands through my hair and pull hard.

“Tell us what you know,” the woman EMT asks while checking out Leah’s injuries.

“I don’t know.” Always tell the truth as much as possible. It makes the lies easier for others to believe and omission is the best medicine. “I found her beaten and tied to the bed. I untied her, wrapped her in the blanket, and brought her out here to you.”

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” the male EMT says. While I knew it was true when I saw her on the bed, having it said out loud feeds my anger. The pull to take off and find these assholes is strong, like a magnet wanting to destroy. I’m torn deeply from staying with Leah and wanting to go hunting for revenge.

Leah moans, and I swear it’s my name on her lips making my decision clear.

“Get her in. We need to stop the bleeding,” the woman EMT says as the man nods once, and they push Leah inside the truck. I go to jump in with her, but am stopped by a hand. One that obviously wants to be chopped off.

Turning around, it’s one of the cops. “Sir, I need you to stay and answer a few questions.”

“No.” I hoist myself into the ambulance and yell out, “I’ll be at the hospital, by her side. You need to talk to me, find me there.” The doors are shut without them answering, and we take off.

Inside this cramped space, the woman and I are back with Leah. The EMT is trying to cover all of the wounds that are oozing blood, but she doesn’t have enough hands to hold them in place doing no good. She looks up at me and orders, “Hold these,” and this is one time that I’ll gladly take orders from a civilian.

Pressing down, Leah emits so many different sounds it’s hard to distinguish. Silent tears run down her face. “Shh… baby, I’ve got you. You’re goin’ to the hospital where they’ll fix you right up.” More groans.

Scared. Yes. I’m completely and utterly scared that what I just told Leah is a full out lie. Over the years, I’ve learned to control my emotions, but I can’t get my leg to stop bouncing as the fear and anguish take over.

She has to live.

She has to be okay.

Leah has an IV in her arm and a tube of oxygen around her nose. Her eyes are slits because they’re so swollen, and I can’t tell if they are open or closed at this point. I keep giving her soft words until the ambulance stops and chaos ensues.

The doors fly open and the hospital team rushes Leah out and through the doors like we’re on some sick as fuck television drama, while a nurse tries to check me out when I climb out too. All I want is to be close to Leah, but I’m not allowed back. They said something about surgery as they rushed her through two steel doors. The nice brunette nurse leads me to a waiting room which is another hell in and of itself. Each second I sit here is another second I don’t have Leah in my arms. It’s another second that she could possibly be taken from me. The ache in my heart expands.

Sitting in the waiting room, the urge to make those motherfuckers pay eats at me. The only thing keeping me here is Leah, who is in surgery and doesn’t know I’m even here. But I do and that’s what matters, and I’ll send her every bit of strength that I have to get her through this. Revenge is a painful thing when you’re not there to give it, and those fuckers deserve the worst.

Pulling out my cell, I dial Tug. “Yeah.” He answers on the first ring, which means he’s not busy. That is not a good thing because he should be taking care of those motherfuckers who hurt my girl.

“Update!” I bark roughly into the phone, moving to the furthest corner in the wide room. When we got the call from Cooper to roll out, we did and fast. Made it to Crest, Florida in half the time and by some miracle didn’t get pulled over by the cops. We broke off with me going to Leah’s house with Tug following and the rest of the guys going to get Cooper.

Everything was fucked up, but Cruz had a plan rolled out immediately and knowing my connection to Leah, he sent me to her knowing I would go anyway.

“We have the packages.” Anger bubbles, my grip on the phone getting tighter, people passing by looking my way curiously. I need to calm my shit, but it’s fucking hard when there is nothing I can do to help her. This absolute no control shit is for the birds. “They’re being moved with great care. We’ll deal with exporting as soon as possible.” The Ravage MC will do this clean with no blowback, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there with every fiber of my being.

Fuck. This means that I won’t get to see these assholes take their last breath. I won’t get to make them pay for every mark on her beautiful body. Everything in me wants to go teach these assholes a lesson and give them exactly what they did to Leah, only make it a thousand times more painful. But I won’t, I can’t leave her.

“Last time the package was torn up on both ends and practically destroyed,” I mumble into the phone. “I wouldn’t want that to happen again.”

Tug gives a cough into the phone, “We’ll take care of the packages and make sure they’re processed and delivered personally.”

“Good.” I swipe the phone off and go back to my post, the lonely chair in the far corner where no one bothers me, but I have a view of everyone coming and going. It smells like alcohol and Pinesol mixed with sick people in here. It’s almost choking, so damn uninviting. I’m surprised the Devil himself isn’t picking people to take with him. I fucking hate waiting rooms.

Wait.

That is a special kind of hell to simply wait.

The only update I’ve had is she needed emergency surgery. I don’t even know why or what they’re doing. Since I’m not the next of kin, they can’t tell me much anyway, I imagine.

Helpless. That’s what this is. A helpless kind of hell.

I stroll up to the nurses’ station. “Sir, she’s still back in surgery,” the gangly nurse with blonde hair tells me for the millionth time before I’m able to say a word. It’s been two and a half hours, and I need something here; there’s only so much a man can take.

“Still? How much stitching up did they have to do?”

She gives me the look, that one where she’s not coming right out and accusing me of doing this to Leah, but it’s what she wants to say. Fucking bitch. I’d never touch Leah like that, let alone hurt a fucking hair on her head. I’m not stupid. I know what this shit looks like, and I’m expecting cops at any time to question me.

When I talked to Cruz, the game plan was that Leah called me crying, and I raced over there finding her like that. We are saying some assholes broke into her home, tied her up to the bed, and attacked her. She was covered in blood when I got there and then passed out. We’re keeping the names of the three men from the cops because jail time won’t be enough for them. No, more like acid in their cuts from ragged, jagged knives that can sheer flesh. The tricky part is talking to Leah before the cops do, but I can’t worry about that until I know she’s alright.

“I’ll let you know as soon as the doctors contact us,” she dismisses, turning her attention to the computer in front of her.

Not letting it go, because fuck that, I challenge, “I didn’t fuckin’ touch her, but thanks for the stereotypical looks just because I have a cut on my back and tattoos on my arms.” On that, I turn and go back to my spot, my foot bouncing wildly. Much longer and I’m calling Buzz to hack into the hospital system to get me some damn information.

“We’re here for Leah Donaldson.” Her name has my head popping up, zeroing in on an older man and woman. From the back, the woman has Leah’s silky brown hair, cut short, but still identical. Her parents. I surge up and move to them.

“Sir, Ma’am, I’m Green.”

Recognition flashes in their eyes. Thank Christ Leah talked about me. “Hello,” the mother says, going back to the nurse, not dismissively like the bitch behind the counter, but more of an I have to find out what’s wrong with my daughter. That one I can hack because I want to know too.

My attention goes to her father saying, “They keep telling me she’s in surgery.” His eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, which is to be expected.

“What happened?”

Fuck. Not the question I want to answer, but do anyway running my fingers through my hair and remembering everything that Cruz said. Keeping my tone level and fear in check, I speak, “I got a call from her crying, and I raced there.” I look at him to see if he can hack it, and when it looks like he can I continue as the mother talks to the nurse, getting the same response from the witch. At least I know she’s not lying anymore. Fuck, it kills me to have to tell them this shit. I haven’t been this scared since…

I shake my head, clearing those thoughts. “Some assholes broke into your home, tied her up to the bed, and cut her several times. She was covered in blood when I got there and then passed out.”

“Cut her?” Pain creases his face, twisting it in anger. “Why was she there?”

“I don’t know and yes, with a knife it looked like. She had burns on her wrists and ankles as well from the ropes.” Wish I could slice them up like they did her. Fuck!

He steps closer and lowers his voice, “Did they…?”

Sucking in a deep breath, the anger mixes with the pain. “I don’t know.” Stone had no clue when we left, and the only one who can answer the question is Leah. Fuck, if those fuckers forced themselves on her I’ll dig them up myself and mutilate them. It’s bad enough seeing the cuts and black and blueness around her swollen face from obvious blows to it; my mind can’t go there to think of that violation too. It wouldn’t surprise me though. Those fuckers were in it and going all the way.

“They won’t tell me anything. Did they tell you?” her mother, Stella, says next to us, grabbing our attention and breaking those thoughts for the moment. Leah is very close with her parents; in fact, she said sometimes they are a little too overprotective.

Her husband breaks the news to her as she sobs and starts to fall to the ground, her legs giving out. He catches her and holds her in his arms, whispering something to her and kissing the top of her head as he moves over to the chair to support her. I feel like motherfucking shit delivering those blows to her folks.

The wait is tedious and never-ending.

“Brother.” I look up seeing Cruz, our president, and GT, our vice president, stroll into the room, noting all the looks they receive, which is completely normal. They are each a powerhouse; together—watch the fuck out.

Meeting them in the middle, each gives me a one-handed hug and slap on the back, letting me know that they, along with the brothers, are beside me. Lifting my chin to the door, they move with me, following, not wanting to go far but needing some answers.

Our voices are in low, hushed tones, noting no one is around, but one never knows if there are eyes in the sky watching.

“Guys are cleanin’ it up. We made it hurt.”

Nodding, I let out a deep breath, my shoulders rising and falling with it. Not exactly relief considering Leah is still fighting for her life, but glad that those assholes will never hurt Leah again. Ever. “Right, thanks.”

“What’s goin’ on with your girl?” GT asks, his hands resting on his hips.

My gut twists, my hand going to the back of my neck and giving a squeeze that does nothing for the tension building. “Not good. She was torn up by those fuckers, cuts everywhere and bruises to her face. I don’t know anything though. This fuckin’ waiting is killin’ me. How’s Bristyl?”

Cruz blows out a deep breath. “She’s good. Got some action, but her, her father, and Cooper are all safe. Regg got the worst of it, and she’s with him. Far as I know, she doesn’t know anything about your girl.” Part of the knot that formed in my shoulders relaxes hearing this.

“Glad she’s okay, but shouldn’t she know about Leah?”

GT shrugs. “Coop thinks it’s best to keep it low right now.”

Cruz slaps a meaty hand on my shoulder. “Come on, brother, let’s wait with ya.” Moving back into the waiting room, it feels damn good to have my brothers at my back. Cruz eventually calls Buzz, but he gets nowhere because none of her charts have been updated.

When the doctor comes out a long time later, with blood all over his scrubs and asking for Leah’s family, I just about lose my shit thinking the absolute worst. Leah already lost a lot of blood and judging from his scrubs, she lost a lot more. The three of us huddle around him, while Cruz, GT and some of the other guys who showed up around the third hour, hang back.

“Leah came in with multiple stab wounds to her body. Some of those cuts were deep, puncturing several of her organs.” My heart stops beating and air leaves my body. He continues, “But she was lucky in that the blade only hit her kidney full on. With that comes a whole other realm of issues, but this is good for her, considering what it could be. We were able to stop the bleeding and stitch up most of the lacerations. She also lost a lot of blood; therefore, we are giving her transfusions, and we don’t know how many she’ll need before her supply levels are steady. She has two broken ribs and one that’s cracked, but not fully broken. Leah has bruises everywhere on her body, but we’ve checked and nothing else looks broken; however her jaw is damaged. Her hair was pulled from her scalp in clumps. Luckily, when that happened, her scalp didn’t come with it. We were able to treat the sections of her scalp, but we’ll have to wait to see if her hair will grow back in those places. We didn’t note any nerve damage, and that’s the best thing.”

The doctor looks at me suspiciously, and he’s damn fucking lucky he’s telling me about Leah or he’d be in a hospital bed next to her with that look. He clears his throat, switching to her parents.

“We have yet to determine the state of her eyes.”

Stella gasps, covering her mouth as silent tears stream down her cheeks, and her husband holds her tightly.

“Right now, all we can determine is that they’re bruised, swelled shut, and have some cuts on the exterior. As far as it looks, she’ll be okay, but we won’t know until she comes to. She’s going to be in extreme pain while her body tries to heal itself. We have her on Fentanyl to help ease it, should she happen to wake up and come out of the sedative. But we don’t believe that will happen; it’s just a precaution. Right now, the best thing for her is to rest and allow her body time to heal. We’re going to keep her sedated to help with that, but we want her to come out of it as well, so we’ll be monitoring her around the clock so we keep the balance. It’s a fine line we’re walking on, but we want her to feel comfortable. She will be in ICU.”

The pit of my stomach falls to the floor.

“She’s going to heal, right?” Leah’s father asks.

The doctor puts his hands in the pockets of his scrubs. “As of this moment, we need to wait at least twenty-four hours to see if she has anymore internal bleeding. We repaired everything that we saw, but that doesn’t mean that one of the punctures can’t open back up. The body is a tricky thing, and we have no guarantees. She is in critical care right now and will be for the foreseeable future.”

My hand digs into my hair, pulling it tight. Flashes of my mother enter my head, of the last time I was in a hospital. A tube was stuck down her throat to breathe for her with IVs and cords coming out of everywhere. She looked as if she would wake up at any time, but the doctors said she would never come out of her coma. That her body was only alive because of the machines.

The choice I had to make was excruciating, one no child should have to do. With me being her only kid, it fell upon me to decide if the machines should be cut off. That decision gutted me, destroyed me, and ate at me for years. With this, it’s all coming back in a rush. Those feelings and that loss gutted me.

“Take her off,” were the last words to the doctors as every machine was turned off and my mother lay there gasping for air; all the while, all I could do was sit there and wait until she took her last gasping breath. My heart squeezes in pain remembering sitting next to her bed, listening as the life drained from her body. Crying isn’t something I’m accustomed to, but that day, I cried for a long damn time.

Now, it’s Leah, and I can’t lose her.