I spit blood on the floor and glare up at the man in front of me. Easily six feet tall, scowling expression, dark hair and blue eyes, big motherfucker. And he’s getting a fuck load of satisfaction kicking the shit out of me. Two days they’ve been kicking the shit out of me. Beating me. Torturing me. Fucking me over in any way they can. But I won’t break. Fuckers will have to kill me damned slowly before I ever tell them where Braxton is.

“Think you’re tough, little boy,” the man taunts. “You’re not tough. We’re only just getting warmed up here.”

I grin at him, teeth bloodied. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got in store.”

Frustration bubbles in his chest and his boot connects with my jaw, sending me stumbling backward into the wall, smashing against the bricks. Pain radiates through my body, and I find it hard to breathe, fuck, I find it hard to do anything. But I don’t make a sound. Not a grunt. Nothing. My ribs are broken, my arm, and I have a fuck load of internal injuries inside me. I can feel them.

No doubt I’ll die here.

Fine by me.

So long as Braxton finds a way out.

Fuck, I hope he finds a way out.

The big man strides toward me just as the door opens and Shanks steps in. “Enough, Lorenzo. I have a surprise for our boy Dakoda here.”

I look over to the man I now despise and spit blood in his direction. He grins at me, raises a hand, and clicks his fingers. Two men appear, Braxton in between them. For a single fucking moment, my heart stops beating. I want to bellow and wake up from this fucking nightmare, but I can’t. I can’t fucking stop what’s happening right in front of me. My stomach twists with a sick feeling, and my fists clench, broken or not.

“Say hello to your brother, Dakoda. Turns out, he wasn’t that hard to find after all.”

No.

Fucking no.

“He was stupid enough to let himself out of the rehab center he was hiding out in when you hadn’t showed up with your little plan of running away. It didn’t take us long to find him. What a wonderful ending, don’t you think?”

“Go to fuckin’ hell,” I spit.

“Oh, I’m going. But not before I take him down for crossing me.”

They throw Braxton onto the ground and he rolls a few times. He’s beaten, battered, and bruised. I notice he’s missing two fingers on his left hand. They’ve had him, and they’ve tortured him. It must not have taken him long to come after me when he realized I didn’t show. Stupid fucking idiot. He should have stayed where he was safe.

“Why did you come out?” I hiss at him. “Fuckin’ why, Brax?”

He looks at me, with bloodshot eyes and a fucked-up face. “Because you’re my brother, Dakoda. I was never goin’ to fuckin’ let them have you. That’s what brothers do.”

“Aw.” Shanks laughs. “How sentimental. You know, I’ve thought long and hard about this. I’ve thought, maybe I’ll kill you both, but that just wouldn’t scratch my itch, you know what I’m saying?”

I glare at the fucking devil standing before me.

“So, I decided, I’m going to kill Braxton. I’m going to let you watch, Dakoda. Watch, and sit in here with him until his body starts to rot, and then I’ll let you go. Let you live every day with that image, so you know what fuckin’ happens when you cross me.”

No.

My stomach coils and I glare at the man in front of me, wanting, somehow, to fucking blow his head off.

Only I know I can’t.

And he knows I can’t.

“You fuckin’ touch him ...” I warn.

“What?” Shanks laughs. “What are you going to do to me? Me? Nothing, boy. That’s what.”

“You fuckin’ do a single thing to him, and I’ll come after you. I’ll spend my fuckin’ life chasin’ you until I find you and kill you. I promise you that.”

Shanks bellows with laughter, shaking his head as he holds my eyes. “Please, I deal with people like you—heroes—daily. A lesson will be learned here today. I suggest you take it, because if I see you again, you’ll wish you were never born.”

Shanks raises his hand and one of his men steps forward, putting a gun in his hand. I don’t think, I just lunge, my broken body hurling toward him. I don’t get far enough before three of his men toss me back, but not before they take hold of me and beat me to a bloody pulp. By the time I land on the ground, I’m barely conscious, but I won’t give up. I can’t give up.

Braxton.

My brother.

My life.

My twin.

I look over to him and start dragging my fucked-up body over. I reach him and grab hold of him around the back of the head and look into his eyes. “Fight, Brax,” I hiss.

He shakes his head, and a lone tear runs down his cheek. “I can’t fight this, you know I can’t. I’m going to die here today. But know this, Dakoda, you did everything you could. This, it isn’t on you. It is on me. It is my fault. I don’t ever fuckin’ want you to live with guilt. But promise me you’ll find him, and you’ll make him suffer for what he’s about to do. I get out of this easily, you’re the one he’s going to torment forever.”

Tears, bloody, burst forth and run down my cheeks. I don’t fucking care if I’m crying. Because I’m helpless. So fucking helpless. I have no way out. I can’t stop what’s about to happen to my brother. I can’t stop it, no matter what I do, I can’t fucking stop it. I can’t save him. I’m his brother, and I can’t save him. Pain explodes in my chest, and I bring my forehead to his. “I’m sorry, Braxton.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Do not carry guilt. I love you, Dakoda. Fuckin’ forever.”

“That’s enough,” Shanks growls, and two of his men haul me off Braxton and pull me away.

I fight, thrashing, my body in that much agony I can barely breathe, but I fight anyway. One last pathetic attempt at saving my brother. Shanks steps forward, pointing the gun right at Braxton’s forehead. “Should have made you suffer more, but it pleases me to know your brother is going to see you die, and he’s going to suffer enough for the both of you.”

“No,” I bellow. “No!”

Braxton kneels, all the fight gone out of him, and my bellows of agony fill the room as Shanks pulls the trigger. Braxton slumps backward, the life being sucked out of his eyes as he lands on the floor. My roars of pain fill the space, and the two men toss me to the ground, and I crawl, brokenly, toward him.

“Enjoy that.” Shanks laughs.

Then they’re gone.

I pull Braxton’s bloodied head into my lap and cry, so fucking hard I can’t breathe.

I’m so sorry, Braxton.

I let you down.

I fuckin’ let you down.

I’ll never forgive myself for this.

And I won’t rest until Shanks is dead.

I will not rest.

I’ll do whatever it takes.

I will find him.

And I will kill him.