AYDA
Pregnant.
It hadn’t occurred to me at all until I’d been standing with a gun to my head feeling half dead and seeing Drew’s face like that. The hopelessness of the situation… there had been a moment, just one, where my life had become a flicker of images. Why my period of all things had popped into my brain, well, I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to answer that question. I just knew. Could feel it. As though it were some kind of intuition.
As Drew and I made our way to the training room, I could feel the tension and anger rolling from him like a storm from the ocean. Angry waves of it crashed at my feet, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was questioning himself on whether it was a good idea to have me there. What he couldn’t possibly understand was what was going on in my head right now. Ineededto see that applied to the bastard that had jeopardized a future I hadn’t even known I’d wanted. Iwantedto see him bleed. Iwantedto hear him scream. Ineededto see him die. For Harry, for Drew, for every one of the guys he’d betrayed, and a little for myself, too. As the pain started to wind its way through the adrenaline that was keeping me going, my need to see him suffer was my driving force.
Tugging on Drew’s hand, I pulled him to a stop less than ten feet from the training room.
“Drew,” I said quietly, peeking up at him through the one eye that wasn’t as swollen as the other. “Don’t hold back on my account, okay? I know you’re worried about me being in there. Don’t be.”
His jaw ticked, his gaze moving over the marks on my face before he looked me dead in the eyes. “I can handle it, Ayda, if you can once it’s over. Just promise me you can, and it’ll all be okay.”
“I can. I can handle this because I need to see that motherfucker bleed.”
Drew exhaled through his nose and nodded once, his fingers squeezing my hand. “Then let’s go and do this,” he whispered.
I tightened my fingers around his with as much enthusiasm as I could, considering what was about to go down. I’d never thought I’d ever want to see someone suffer in front of me, let alone suffer at the hands of someone I loved, but Owen Sinclair deserved anything Drew thought up for him.
Entering the room seemed to suck the air out of everything—the mood changing from anticipatory to murderous. It was dark, the smell of blood winding around us as we stepped inside. Eric, Slater, and Jedd stood in a loose circle around Owen who was on his knees and bound, blood pooling as it seeped from the wounds Eric and I had already inflicted on him. With one last squeeze to Drew’s hand, I released him, retreating into the shadows a little to give him the headspace he’d need to do what he was about to do. Though, by the look on his face, he was already there.
Rubin stepped up beside me, the kid’s hand finding mine as we stood together and watched in silence, neither of us really sure of what was coming next.
Drew’s boots seemed to sound like an earthquake going off with every stride he took around his former friend. His movements were controlled, and his eyes were fixed on the man in front of him as he slowly paced back and forth, with Eric, Jedd, and Slater close by. The seconds felt like hours, every one of us waiting for Drew to strike, but he seemed in his element, making his victim wait for the pain he had promised. He looked so calm, so quietly violent—he didn’t look like the soft man who lay beside me every night and swore to love me for eternity. Right now, Drew looked like he was fit for only one thing:
Murder.
Owen raised his head and lifted his chin, daring to look Drew right in the eye. Drew paced slowly, then stopped in front of his enemy, never blinking as he just… watched him.
More seconds passed. Minutes. Hours. It was torture. I wasn’t sure he was going to follow through and strike, as he’d forced the whole place into such a bubble of thick silence… until Drew shifted quicker than lightning, his body spinning around in a full circle, his leg raised in the air before smashing and swinging his steel-toe boots across Owen’s cheek with a force that seemed to make the whole room shake.
Drew was so focused on his prey. He was judge, jury, and executioner. He was a dark avenging angel who was so calm and collected that he was the only thing I could see. I felt Rubin’s hand tighten in mine and did my best to support him, but the only thing I felt running through my veins was justification as my other hand found my stomach.
Owen’s body was now laid out on the floor, his hands tied behind him as he groaned and coughed up more blood. That kick alone would have put a regular guy in a coma, but The Hounds had been training their whole lives for this kind of thing, and he wasn’t going to stay down for long.
Drew bent down, his knees cracking as he came to rest an arm over them and lean closer to Owen.
“That hurt?” he whispered roughly.
“Fuck you,” Owen spat.
“I’ll make a deal with you.” Owen looked up, blinking wildly as he stared into Drew’s eyes and waited for him to go on. “Tell me everything you know, and I’ll kill you quickly.”
Even when he was crippled with pain, Owen was still capable of unleashing a slow, cruel smirk. “I’d rather burn in Hell for the rest of my life than share anything with y—”
Drew’s fist swung so quickly, we almost missed it, his arm driving his punch under Owen’s chin to rattle his teeth and make his brain practically bleed from the force.
“I could punch the living shit out of you all day.”He sighed dramatically.
“Asshole,” Owen hissed, his body rolling him onto his back, despite his arms being trapped there. His chest rose, his spine coming off the floor before he coughed roughly and brought his knees up to his stomach.
Drew pushed himself forward, digging his fingers into the cut on Owen’s body and tugging him back up until he was on his knees again. Once in place, Owen’s head hung low, and blood dripped in one long stream from the corner of his mouth.
Drew tugged Owen closer, so close he could say everything he had to say right next to his swollen ear.
“Ever loved anyone, Owen?” he asked him, Drew’s voice menacing as he looked up at Jedd, Slater, and Eric in front of him as he spoke. “Ever really loved anyone in your whole life?”
“W-what?” Owen gasped, his brows creasing when he dared to try and lift his head.