Among the Echoes(4)

"Sir, allow me to get her cleaned up for you. The men have been at her all day. Hell, I just f*cked her myself."

"I can see. Lube, Marcus? I didn't take you for such a gentleman."

"I'm an ass man. It’s kind of a necessity." He fakes a smirk and offers a shrug, trying to play it cool, but even I can tell he's uncomfortable.

"I'm sure Dom wouldn't mind if I made this one my own. He knows I love to play with the pretty ones," he purrs.

Marcus's eyes go wide just before the pain erupts over my legs.

A scream tears from my throat as I look down to see him slicing the tip of his knife up the inside of my thighs, over my sex, and down the other thigh. I lose focus and beg for the darkness to take me. The sound of a gun deafens me, and the body of the man who just mutilated me falls lifelessly on top of me. I drift away, praying the light never returns.





"Move, Erica." Marcus’s voice breaks through the ringing in my ears.

I open my eyes to find my hands and feet suddenly free, and the dead man has been shoved off me. I’m covered in blood, but I dive into the arms of the man who was once my captor. The same man who is now rescuing me.

There are shouts behind the door, and he shoves me into the bathroom. He closes the door, but I can’t go back to the dark. I keep it cracked, watching as the bedroom door splinters into pieces. Marcus opens fire on the three men sprinting in with guns raised.

I quickly close the door and move toward the single window, but the searing pain between my legs leaves me unable to walk. I fall toward the window, pushing against it only to realize it has been sealed shut. Panic ricochets through my mind as I try to work out an escape, but I just can't focus with the sounds of gunfire banging from the other side of the door. Finally, with one last pop, the room goes silent.

"Erica, open the door. You can’t get out the window."

My emotions bubble over, and I stumble helplessly back to the door. I don’t know Marcus, but I have no choice but to trust him.

He walks in, throwing the blanket around me and scooping me into his arms.

He carries me from the room, stepping over the bloody mess of bodies. I bury my face into his neck so I don't have to look at the carnage.

"I want to go home," I whisper. The adrenaline fades from my system, leaving me with the shakes and tears I thought I had long since run out of pouring from my eyes.

He puts me down only long enough to snatch a phone from his pocket. "Fourteen Ulrich Ave. I need a pickup. Medical. And a whole team of cleanup. I just killed Darren Wilkes and his top three." He abruptly ends the call and cradles me back into his strong arms. "I’ve got you. Shhh," he whispers into my hair.

We stand for a few minutes in the doorway. He alternates between looking outside and soothing me. Finally, he yanks open the door and carries me out just as a black SUV pulls into the driveway. I prepare myself for more chaos, more pain, and more fear. My heart races even as he whispers, "Those are the good guys."

Three men and a woman jump from the barely parked truck and race towards us.

"What the f*ck did you do?" the first man who arrives barks at Marcus.

"Take her. She needs medical. I have a gunshot wound to the thigh. I think it was clean through, but I’m not positive." He shifts to pass me off, but I scramble to stay in his arms. I have no idea what the hell is happening, but there is only one man I trust right now, no matter how screwed up that may be.

The man pulls me away from Marcus, but I try to hold on like a baby clinging to its mother. My legs are on fire and every inch of my body is sore, but I fight to resume my place in his arms.

"Marcus!" I scream, reaching toward him.

Despite his own injury—I can obviously see that he’s bleeding through his pants—he returns to my side. "Hey, you’re in good hands. This is Agent Greene from the DEA. You’re safe, Erica."

I know his words should soothe me, but they only make me frantic. I’m not safe. I’ll never be safe again, but Marcus made me feel that way, even if for just a minute. I need that right now more than I need the air in my lungs. I need him to give that to me.

He turns to walk away and I lose it, frantically swinging my arms and legs, shaking free of the blanket and the hold the supposed officer has on me. I forget about the pain in my legs and the fear I felt because of this man only hours ago. I rush ahead, slamming into his back as he makes his retreat.

"Please don’t leave me. I don’t understand what’s going on right now. I need you. Please don’t leave me like this. I…" I begin to sob, begging him to stay with me.