The tears stream heavier, dropping right off the bottom of my jaw and to my chest as Roman tears open a small black bag filled with medical supplies and lets them spill out onto my blood-stained stomach.
I groan with every jostle as Roman rummages through the medical supplies, finding exactly what he needs. “This is going to hurt,” he says. “But you’re going to be okay. I swear, I won’t let you die.”
I shake my head, absolutely terrified. “No,” I cry. “I don’t want it.”
“Sorry, Empress,” Roman says, grabbing a bottle of something clear and using his teeth to pull off the cork top. “You’ve got no other fucking choices.” And just like that, he pours the liquid over my body and I scream until my lungs give out.
Levi holds me down as I thrash under Roman’s weight, the burn almost enough to knock me right out. “STOP,” I scream as Roman reaches out and unforgivingly pours more over my arms and chest. “PLEASE STOP.”
Roman throws the empty bottle aside. “I don’t have anything to numb you with,” he warns me, pulling out a suture kit and tearing open a little sterilized packet with his teeth. A small, curved needle appears in his big hands and my eyes go wide.
“No pain, no gain,” Levi mutters as Marcus turns onto the highway, the tires of the Escalade screeching below us as the smoothness of the road instantly eases the reckless jostling.
I clench my eyes, too terrified of what comes next. I’ve never been good with needles. The very thought of it digging into my flesh makes me nauseous, but I have no choice. They’re going to hold me down and stitch me back together whether I like it or not.
A searing pain tears through my inner thigh and my eyes spring open. “Keep her still,” Roman growls as I desperately try to kick him off me. He digs straight back in again, threading the string through the inside of my thigh and pulling it tight to draw the stray pieces of muscle and flesh back together.
He works quickly and with skill as though he’s done it a million times before, but I bet his previous patients weren’t such little bitches about it. My jaw clenches as the tears continue down my face and I try my best not to thrash beneath him, knowing one slight fuck up with that needle could cause all kinds of havoc.
I look straight up and meet Levi’s hard stare, my eyes pleading for some kind of relief. “Make it stop,” I beg, the words getting stuck in my throat.
He shakes his head. “I can’t. You’ll bleed out.”
“Please,” I whisper, my hand curling around and gripping onto his strong arm as he holds me down. “Put me out of my misery.”
He glances up at his brother who works tirelessly to save my life before dropping his gaze back to mine. “Are you sure?” he questions, concern deep in his dark eyes. I don’t respond, but he sees my wild desperation, and without another word, he presses down on the side of my neck. And with just a bit of pressure, darkness consumes me.
31
Something drops and the soft clattering has my eyes springing open into the dim light of the castle’s living room. All three brothers are hovering around me, and a grim, bored expression lingers on Roman’s face. Marcus sends an irritated glare to his younger brother, who looks guilty as shit bending low to pick up his dropped drumstick.
I groan and turn my head to face the backrest of the couch. “Geez, anyone would think that a bunch of serial killers would know a thing or two about being quiet.”
Marcus drops down on the end of the couch, carefully pulling my feet on to his lap as the torturous memories of my time in that storm cellar fill my mind, playing on replay. “You saw us in action. Do we really strike you as the type to go in silence?”
I roll my eyes, knowing he has a very good point, but the subtle movement has a deep pounding settling into my skull. “No, you’re the type to accidentally drop your gun at the door and alert every fucker in the room, so instead of a simple assassination, it turns into a chaotic shootout.”
Marcus laughs, slicing his stare to his younger brother, who rolls his eyes and sinks into the soft couch opposite me. “It happened one time,” Levi says, “and it wasn’t even my fault. You knocked the fucking gun out of my hand.”
I can’t help but turn back to face him. “You’re kidding right?” I laugh, attempting to reach for the painkillers that have been carelessly tossed onto the low coffee table. “How did you guys earn such an outstanding reputation when you’re doing shit like that?”