Dare To Run (The Sons of Steel Row #1)(13)

Stars swam in front of my eyes and pain exploded across my skull, but I bit back the cry that almost escaped. “Over my dead body.”

Star Tattoo came up to my left as Blondie held my hands behind my back and shoved me even harder into the wall. Dark Eyes came up on the right, unclasping his belt. “That can be arranged.” Any second, they would all jump on me like vultures. I swallowed down the vomit that threatened to spill forward. No matter what, I would go down fighting.

Pleas nearly bubbled from my mouth, but I bit them back. I wouldn’t beg for mercy when they clearly had none. I’d fight, and I’d die before begging. I turned my head and forced myself to laugh. It sounded manic. Strained. “What’s the matter? Can’t get a girl to go home with you without raping her? How sad for you. How pathetic.”

“We’ll show you who’s the pathetic one.” Star Tattoo closed his hand on my breast and squeezed cruelly. I slammed my head back, trying to break free by head-butting the jerk, but Blondie held me too damn tight. “Nice.”

Nice. That’s what this snake said while feeling me up.

My stomach rolled even more, seconds from expelling its contents. I swallowed it back because I refused to show them how much they’d gotten to me.

Gritting my teeth, I threw my head back again, this time successfully connecting with Blondie’s nose. He cried out and let go of me, and I quickly spun away from him, swinging as I did so. I connected with Dark Eyes, but before I could do any real damage, Star Tattoo captured me again.

I kicked back but missed.

“Damn it.” He adjusted his grip and my arms were pinned to my sides. “You little bitch.”

“Let me go,” I snarled, “or you’re dead.”

He laughed and bit down hard on my shoulder. It hurt like hell, but I didn’t make a sound. Then he shoved me to the ground and was on me, the weight of his body so heavy that I couldn’t breathe. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he pressed a hand against my throat, cutting off any hope of oxygen. I struggled beneath him, arching my back and kicking my legs, but he didn’t budge. Just grinned down at me.

Black crept into the corners of my vision, painfully taking over, and I fought more frantically. Unfortunately, he didn’t budge, and as I ran out of air, my movements slowed. I hit him again, but my arm felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds, and instead of hitting him, my hand just kind of fell on him and stayed. I stopped struggling. It became clear that he was going to suffocate me before he ever got around to raping me.

That might actually be a merciful thing.

Just as the black was about to take over my world, Dark Eyes flew backward, landing almost directly next to me on the dirty ground with a sick, bone-crunching sound. The hands that had been cutting off my air supply eased a bit, and I gasped in a deep breath. It hurt more than the actual strangling had, and I coughed so hard my lungs almost came out of my chest.

I turned my head to the side and took in a deep breath, but I choked on it.

Dark Eyes wasn’t moving.

Blood gushed out of his nose, and his eyes stared sightlessly into the night sky. You could still see the color in his eyes, but the rest of him was empty. He looked . . . dead. I couldn’t see who, or what, had done this, but I could only assume it was Marco. And if it was Marco, then he’d go to jail. After he’d worked so hard to start a life. A real life. One he could actually be proud of.

Pins and needles filled my veins instead of blood, and I gasped in a deep breath, coughing and choking on the thing that was supposed to save me. Air.

Star Tattoo still pinned me down, but his head was turned toward the man attacking his buddies. Rearing up, I bit down hard on whatever I could reach. He yelled in pain as Blondie came crashing to the ground in a heap. Star Tattoo’s attention was squarely on me, but before he could retaliate, he was gone. Just gone.

A man shoved him into the building, much like they’d done to me earlier, and slammed his head into the wall. It definitely wasn’t Marco; that much I knew. This guy was too big. Too tall. Too muscular. And almost . . . familiar.

Star Tattoo whimpered. “Look, man, you don’t have to do this. She’s just a whore that we were—”

The man growled. “I know exactly what you were doing, *.”

I sat up and hugged myself. My shirt had been ripped in the fight. I needed to get to my feet, needed to be in a better position to fight if I had to, but I . . . I needed a minute.

Soft Boston accent. Domineering tone. I knew that voice. Lucas. He had saved me. But why? Where had he come from? My mind struggled to make any sense amid all the uncontrollable panic that now bubbled to the surface. They were arguing between grunts and punches.

“You may have been locked up for a while, but that ain’t no excuse for forgetting how this works. You got no right barging in here, Mr. Donahue. With all due respect, this ain’t your, or Tate’s, business.” Star Tattoo looked over his shoulder at Lucas. “Nothing to do with you or the Sons of Steel Row at all, matter of fact.”

Wait. Lucas Donahue? Now I knew why he looked familiar. He worked for the most violent arms dealer in the area. He was in a gang. He was in the Sons of Steel Row.

While I stayed far away from that life, I knew a few people who didn’t. Those still alive kept me up-to-date. When I met him in my bar, I’d known he was trouble, but I hadn’t known he was that much trouble. His crew was known for their violence and brutality. They owned Steel Row and pretty much everything in it.