Disarray the hallowed cr.., p.24
Disarray: The Hallowed Crows MC 4, page 24
“GSW to the stomach, knife wound to the chest, blunt force trauma to the face,” Arthur starts to list off her injuries, as Aria inserts an IV into her arm, and I know without looking that the guys are as panicked as I am.
The drive to the hospital feels like it takes forever, and by the time we get there Rebecca still isn’t conscious, but between the two docs they have at least managed to stem her bleeding. The driver pulls into a bay around the back that doesn’t seem to have any people around, and Arthur takes the lead, pushing out of the back and greeting the other doctors with a solemn smile.
“Good to see you, Dr. Royton,” one of them greets him. “Sorry it’s under these circumstances.”
“I’m sorry too,” Arthur responds, and then goes into detail about all of Rebecca’s injuries he has discovered so far, telling them what he has done and given her up to this point, and tossing the word surgery out like it’s no big deal.
Aria helps him lift the gurney from the van and I mildly wonder where they even got it from, but then I remember Elle King’s involvement and decide when it comes to her, nothing can surprise me.
The two docs rush inside with the others, updating the team waiting on every detail they can, before they take over and start rushing away with her body.
“Where the fuck are they taking her?” Aiden shouts, moving to follow them, but Arthur blocks his way.
“Let them go, son. They are taking her to surgery, there is nothing you can do but wait.” His tone sounds fatherly, and for once I am surprised that Aiden listens, his shoulders dropping in defeat.
When I turn to Killian, I find him covered in her blood, staring at his hands like he wants to chop them off just to get rid of the red stains. The sight has me frozen where I stand, sickness churning inside of me as I think about what will happen if she doesn’t pull through this. I can’t do anything but pray she makes it through this.
Aria is the first to move, approaching Killian slowly as if she might startle him, and when she reaches him, she ignores the blood and places a gentle touch on his arm. “Come on, Kill, let me get you cleaned up.” His head snaps up to hers, like she surprised him, looking back at the blood on his skin again before he nods. She gently steers him down the corridor towards a bathroom.
Arthur steps away, trusting Aiden, Angel and I won’t move, and pulls out his phone, quietly relaying the details down the phone to someone who I am almost sure is Elle. It’s only then that I remember the FBI agent.
I turn my focus to Aiden, who is still staring at the doors they rushed Rebecca through as I ask, “What worked?” Angel looks at me in confusion, then follows my stare to Aiden, who sighs as he turns towards me, but remains silent. “In the basement you knew her, you said you can’t believe it worked. What were you talking about?”
He runs his hands through his hair, leaving streaks of blood on his skin as he looks at me. “It was a long shot,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I knew it was a risk, but I had to do everything I could to protect her.” I remain silent as he takes a seat in one of the plastic chairs, Angel grabbing another, as Aiden sighs again. “Sasha interviewed me when we were arrested, she asked about Carter, and then said some other stuff that I didn’t understand, but she felt familiar, like I had met her before.”
There was no recognition when I met her, but maybe the bruising and blood on her face hid it from me, and I wrack my brain trying to place her, but just come up empty. Aiden looks towards Angel as he says, “I just didn’t realize it wasn’t her I recognized.”
Angel watches him closely and then I see his eyes flare in surprise. “Daisy,” he whispers, shaking his head, clearly trying to make sense of this the same way I am.
“Who the fuck is Daisy?” I snap, and Angel curses again, my stare flicking between the two of them.
“When Carter had all three of us, there was another girl there,” his words trail off, and I remember what Rebecca said when they all came home.
Aiden was tortured, beaten, and basically raped.
“So Daisy is Sasha,” I ask softly, trying to tread carefully, but my mind can’t make sense of any of it. If this is the girl who was forced on him, why was he working with her, treating her so nicely? It must have been hard for him.
“No, Sasha wasn’t the girl in the cage, but there was something about her, and then she took an interest in Carter, and the more I thought about it, the more I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. So when Rebecca made her plan, I knew I had to have a backup in case anything went wrong.” I almost laugh, always thinking like a President, and in this case it couldn’t have worked out better. “I went to see her, demanded answers on why she was digging her heels in so much with us, and then she told me, and I knew, I just knew she would help us.”
I slump into the seat beside him, processing his words, as Killian and Aria return, the former looking a little more in control of himself with his hands now clean. I don’t know why Aiden didn’t tell us what he had planned, or how well it truly worked, but the one thing I do know is Rebecca’s life is hanging by a thread, and if she doesn’t pull through, it will break us all.
We can’t be a murder of Crows without our Queen.
An incessant beeping noise stirs me from a deep sleep. I can hear the steady beat of my heart, rain pattering against something, and the soft hum of a TV playing on low. I try to force my eyes to open, but when I do I am blinded by daylight pouring in through a window. The room is unrecognizable, my memory foggy, and everything is blurry and just feels wrong. I can’t move, can’t talk, and it hurts to even breathe. What the hell happened to me?
Just as I have that thought, I slip back into darkness.
I wake up again and the beeping is still there, but there is no more rain or TV. Aside from the beeping, everything is quiet, peaceful. I open my eyes, and although not as bright as earlier, it still stings, and I have to press them open and closed a few times until I can adjust to the low light. I’m in a hospital bed, that much is clear. Evening is drawing in from what I can tell from the window, the sun setting in the distance, and the rain appears to have stopped. I try to move, but everything hurts, and then something soft squeezes my hand and I startle.
“Sshhh, it’s okay.” I move my head, following the voice, and the touch on my hand, and find myself staring into the eyes of Special Agent Sasha Jones. I frown, a little confused, but when I open my mouth to talk, nothing comes out. Sasha jumps up and grabs a jug of water, pouring some into a cup and offering it to me with a straw. “Here, drink this, it will help with the dryness in your throat.”
She brings the straw right to my mouth and places it in between my lips for me, and it takes a great deal of effort to suck up a few sips of water. I only take a little, but instantly feel the soothing in my throat as the liquid splashes down it. My lips feel dry and a little cracked, and there isn’t a part of my body that isn’t screaming with pain. I glance down and note an IV in my arm, with some bruising and bandages around it, and I try to force myself to remember how I got here.
My eyes flash back up to Sasha and I look at her in question. “The guys will be back soon,” she rushes out, clearly uncomfortable. “They have barely left your side in days, so I forced them to go home and change.” She smiles weakly, but all I can do is focus on what she just said. Days.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice coming out all croaky, and I try to clear my throat, but all it does is cause me more pain.
“You were shot,” she says with a sad smile. “The bullet was lodged in the bottom of your stomach. You had to have surgery to get it out and repair the damage.” Her voice lacks emotion, as if I asked her about the weather, and I note the cuts and bruises to her own face which, from the feel of things, I’m sure matches mine.
“That’s not what I meant,” I whisper, and she gets up to grab the remote from the tray table on wheels sitting at the end of my bed.
“I know,” she sighs, turning the TV on and flicking through channels until she finds the news, and then I watch as she focuses on the headlines on the screen.
Carter’s picture is being shown over and over again, different shots of him as Mayor, smiling at town events, shaking hands with local police officers, all of them showing the mask he perfected. Fear rises up the back of my spine, as the image of his body slumping against mine flashes across my mind. I shake my head, the pain indescribable, as I try to rid myself of those thoughts, and focus on what I am seeing.
Liar
Double life
Corrupt
Murderer
Serial killer
Word after word pours from the reporter's mouth as she spins a tale of the Mayor’s dishonor and disarray. They have details of his crimes, pictures of my cage, and names of some of the girls he has killed. They have photographs of a few of them, and tears spill from my eyes when I realize I recognize nearly all of them. That I watched them all die at his hand. My heart starts to beat rapidly, my breaths coming in quick pants, as I bring my hand up and clutch my neck desperately.
Sasha jumps up, turning the TV off and clutching my other hand in hers, squeezing it harder than before. “It’s okay, he isn’t here. You’re safe, you’re free,” she repeats over and over again, gesturing for me to take deep breaths in and out in an attempt to calm me down.
“I’m free,” I pant, inhaling deeply. “I’m free,” I exhale, squeezing her hand back even tighter, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “I’m free, he’s gone, I’m free, he’s dead.” I repeat the words over and over again until my heart stops hammering in my chest, and my hands stop shaking.
We sit in silence for a while, her still holding my hand, and we just let our own thoughts consume us. I’m glad she’s okay, that she made it out alive, but all that does is remind me of her sister. I turn to her and take another deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I start, and her head turns to me. “About your sister I mean. I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.”
Another squeeze of my hand before she drops it and takes a deep breath. “Her name is Briar,” she whispers. “I know he called her Daisy, but her name, it’s Briar.” I stare at her in silence, processing what she just said, not just her sister's name, but she said is, not was.
“She’s alive?” I ask, the disbelief clear in my tone. I know I didn’t see her after what Carter made her do to Aiden, but after everything that happened, I just presumed he had killed her.
Sasha nods, tears now spilling down her face as she chokes out, “I spent over a year looking for her. I never gave up hope, and then there she was, knocking on my door in the dead of night, begging for me to help her.” She takes a deep breath, wiping the tears from her face. “She doesn’t talk much about what happened, but I still know. I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at me. She’s not my sister anymore, not the one I lost. She’s changed, he changed her. She blurted out his name one night, and yours, mentioned a cage, and punishments, until she was shaking so bad she could barely breathe.” She shakes her head, no doubt trying to rid her mind of the same horrors I am more than familiar with. “When you guys came into the station that night, it was like something clicked in my mind. I read your name on the sheet, heard all about the dead girl in your clubhouse, and I just knew they were connected to what happened to my sister.”
I remember how she looked at me in that interrogation room, the questions she was asking to try and make me talk. It all makes sense now, but if her sister made it out alive, how did Sasha end up with the Mayor?
As if she can read my mind, she adds, “I knew I couldn’t let him get away with what he had done, that there was more that I couldn’t even imagine, and I wasn’t going to stop until I took him down.”
“Is that how you ended up being taken by him? You got too close?” It wouldn't surprise me if that’s what happened, I know how cunning Carter can be, but Sasha is shaking her head.
“Aiden came to see me last week, asking me questions about the Mayor,” she starts, and my eyes go wide in confusion, but she just continues on. “I had asked him about the Mayor during his interrogation, had heard about him being held with you and another one of your friends, and I knew he had answers, I just didn’t know how to get them.”
I try to piece together everything she is saying with everything I know, but still I don’t know why she would take our side. “Why did you help us?”
It’s the one thing I am still not sure of. She's FBI, Carter kidnapped and tortured her sister for over a year, why not just bring down the full force of her office on him? Surely her sister’s word would have been enough to convict him, and I like to think when it came down to it that I would have taken the stand against him.
“Aiden convinced me,” she sighs, clearly not completely comfortable with the decision she made, and when I stare at her in silence she continues. “He told me about the Mayor, about what he did to you, what he did to others, what he did to my sister,” she trails off, eyes starting to glisten with emotion again. “He said it didn’t matter that I was FBI, that they wouldn’t protect me or her against him, and that the only way to end him was to kill him, not convict him.” She shrugs like none of this is a big deal, like she didn’t just help us take down the Mayor and end him once and for all.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I admit, not sure if anything of this even matters. I don’t think we will be able to escape another murder scandal unscathed, no matter what the Mayor did to deserve it.
“There is nothing to say, I made my choice, and sitting here now knowing that I saved you, I can’t regret it, I won’t.” Her solidarity makes me smile, but still I worry about what’s going to happen next. “I recorded enough incriminating evidence on the Mayor that you don’t need to worry, and I’m not sure how deep Elle King’s pockets are, but it’s enough that as far as the Hallowed Crows are concerned, you’re all cleared of any crimes, you'll be okay.”
Disbelief floods my insides. I can’t believe it. We did it. The Mayor is dead and we are all finally free.
We talk back and forth a little more after that. She gives me more details about what the FBI uncovered about Carter, and how they dealt with all the bodies at the clubhouse. She’s right, Elle’s pockets clearly know no limits, and by the time we are done, I feel myself drifting back off to sleep, as Sasha tells me she will go and fetch a nurse to check on me.
By the time I wake up again, the morning sun is bursting through the blinds on the windows, though not quite as blinding as when I first woke up yesterday. My eyes flick around the room, not finding Sasha, but instead a whole murder of Crows. Killian and Ezra are asleep on one another on a sofa against the wall, and Aiden is asleep in the chair next to my bed. To my surprise, Angel is also present, standing by the window and watching the world below.
“I hear some crazy shit happens in this town,” I croak out, my throat still a little dry, and his head snaps in my direction instantly. His frown turns to a smile as soon as we lock eyes.
“Becca,” he breathes in relief, closing his eyes as if they haven’t rested for a single second in days. “Thank fuck.” He marches towards the bed, pulling my hand into his and smiling. “You gave us quite the scare,” he warns, tone completely serious, but I can still hear the relief in it.
I smile softly. “Yeah, well, what are best friends for if not to show that anything you can do, I can do better.” It’s a lame joke with the worst timing, but still he laughs, shaking his head at how ridiculous I am.
“God I missed you,” he smiles, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before pulling back. Then he loudly clears his throat. “Wake up, assholes!”
All three of my Crows startle, turning their heads to Angel instantly with a frown, until they see him standing next to me. I smile at each of them, and they’re on their feet in the next second, charging towards me, and crowding around my bedside.
“Bex,” Ezra breathes. “You’re awake.” He drops onto the side of the bed, ignoring the wires there, and leans in to crush my body to his in the same way I did when he was shot. My grunt of pain snaps him out of it of course, but the feel of his body against mine, even with the pain, is just another reminder that I’m free.
“Of course I am, it’s just a little gunshot wound, no big deal,” I joke, and he shakes his head.
“It’s a good job I love you,” he starts, leaning in to drop a kiss to my lips, before moving his mouth to my ear. “Because when you are better, I am going to punish you for that little joke.” His words send a thrill throughout my entire body, and I swear I can feel my face burning, which only makes the bastard smile as he moves away.
Aiden steps in next, that usual serious, brooding look on his face, his emerald eyes boring into mine as one of his hands comes up to cup my cheek. “We thought we lost you,” he whispers, and I swear I can see the tell-tale sign of tears ready to fall as I look him over.
The tension is unbearable and we have been through enough to know that for now, I can push away all my trauma and grief and just enjoy being alive, because I have them. “Is that how it is? I got a wedding band on you and you're trying to get rid of me?”
Two of them laugh, but Aiden is more serious than I have ever seen him as he leans down, and I feel a ghost of a kiss across my lips. “Never, Little Sully.” That nickname flows through me, for once making me blush instead of making me groan, and then he adds, “You can say it now, Princess.”
I frown, confused at first, but then I remember what he told me, what he refused to give me when I needed it, which is just typical, stubborn Aiden Graves. I smile as I say, “I love you, even though you’re a possessive, grumpy asshole.”
He laughs, his hand moving down to clasp around my throat. “I love you too, wife.” Then he kisses me, soft and gentle, as if it’s the first time he has ever tasted my lips, before pulling away and brushing his thumb across my mouth.
When I move my stare to Killian, he is standing silently at the end of the bed, watching me carefully. He did it, he killed the Mayor. There was no long drawn-out torture, or possibilities for him to escape. He just held a gun to his head and took the shot without a second thought. There are not enough words I know to ever be able to convey to him how much that means to me. He’s an enforcer, a killer, he brutalizes our enemies for fun, because he enjoys the pain and the blood. Yet when it mattered most, when he faced our most vicious enemy, he erased him without pause.
