Hard to Fight

  “It’s fine,” he says in barely a whisper.

  He’s in pain. I know he is. “Let me help you, please.” I push his shoulder gently and he shifts so he’s sitting against the wall. I lift his sleeve and decide there’s no point keeping that tattered mess on his body when I can use it to halt the blood dripping down his arm. “I’m going to use your shirt, is that okay?”

  He doesn’t say anything, so I give it a few tugs and it tears free of his body. I tie a couple of the ripped strands together and then I bundle another piece up in a ball and place it over the wound. Raide winces, but he doesn’t stop me. I use the tied strands to secure the ball in place and then I tie it tightly. Before I’m done, the door opens and the two men enter again. This time they have massive guns that I have no doubt would obliterate us if we were shot by them.

  “Don’t fuckin’ move!”

  They hold the guns pointed at us while two more men come in and lift the lifeless body from the floor. Then a younger guy comes in and scrubs the blood from the floor with something that smells strong enough to burn my nose hairs.

  When they’re done, they turn to us. “We’re leaving in the morning, so say your last good-byes.”

  They slam the door on their way out.

  I drop my head and try to come up with a plan. There has to be something we can do! This isn’t the end for us. It isn’t. Raide reaches up and his fingers graze my cheek. I close my eyes and try to stop my body from trembling.

  “I would never have let him hurt you,” he assures me.

  I flinch. “You just sat there,” I whisper.

  “Because I wanted him to turn his back to us—and he did.”

  “You risked my life.”

  “Gracie,” he murmurs, leaning forward and nuzzling my cheek.

  I push him off and walk slowly, numbly to the other side of the room. I lower down onto the floor and don’t make eye contact with him again. I was terrified. For a second there, I thought that guy was going to kill me and Raide was just going to sit by and let it happen. My body shakes with fear all over again, and before I can stop it, I start to sob. Loud, heart-wrenching sobs that clog my throat.

  Raide is beside me in seconds, pulling me onto his lap. “I would never have let him hurt you, Grace!” he says again. “You have to believe that.”

  “I lost everything,” I sob into his bare chest. “Everything.”

  “You didn’t, and we’re going to get out of here.”

  “My boss hates me, my friends hate me, and you hate me. I—lost—everything.”

  “I don’t hate you, baby.” When I cry harder, he runs his fingers through my hair, soothing me. “Truth is,” he rasps, then hesitates. “The truth is, Grace, that I haven’t thought of a damned thing since you left, except you.”

  I close my eyes and breathe him in.

  “You’re under my skin.”

  I rub my cheek over his hard muscled flesh.

  “And I can’t fuckin’ get you out.”

  I shudder and my sobs subside.

  “You made me feel again.”

  Oh. Yes.

  “You made me want to fight.”

  I turn so my ear is over his heart. There I listen to it pounding.

  “You made me want to start again.”

  I exhale loudly.

  “With you.”

  I tilt my head up and look at him. He’s staring down at me, his amber eyes filled with something a whole lot deeper than lust.

  “Raide,” I whisper.

  He leans down, cupping my jaw and tilting my face up. “Hush.”

  Then he kisses me. His lips are rough yet so, so soft. He kisses me with force, spreading my lips and gently coaxing my tongue out with his. He shifts my body so I’m straddling him and his hands glide up and down my back as our kiss deepens until we’re panting and clutching each other. He pulls back after a few long, passionate moments and runs his mouth down my neck. I close my eyes, dropping my head back so he can move around to my throat. He kisses the little hollow there before gliding his lips back up to find mine once more.

  “We have to get out of here,” I breathe against his lips when they stop dancing together.

  “Yeah.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “There aren’t many choices, lady. They’re going to drug us before they take us from here, you can guarantee that. They won’t risk us escaping from the car.”

  “They said they didn’t know who Dean is?”

  Raide grunts. “They know. That smart fucker is making it look like he has nothing to do with this. He’s probably back at that bar, sitting casually.”

  “I was wired.”

  “You get anything?”

  I shake my head.

  “Fuck.”

  “I went to the cops, Raide.”

  He stares at me. “And?”

  “And they sent me in, wired, to get a confession from Dean. He figured me out, and here I am.”

  Raide sighs. “This leaves only one option.”

  “And that is?”

  “We fight.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Fight?”

  “Yeah, we fight. We’re not cuffed—they might be smart but they are stupid when it comes to holding captives. I wasn’t enough to take them on my own, but with you here, we might have a chance. There’s only six of them, five now I killed one. I’ve been counting them.”

  “How long have you been in here?”

  “Few days.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  He takes my chin and forces me to look at him. “There is nothing for you to be sorry about. You didn’t put me in here.”

  “If we get out, what are we going to do with Dean?”

  “I’ll deal with Dean.”

  My heart tightens. “Raide, you’ll go to prison.”

  “Just trust me, yeah?”

  My hope dies a little. He’s giving himself to me, yet at the same time he’s not. Raide wants revenge and he’ll do whatever he can to get it, no matter the cost. That hurts, because I thought I’d be enough to change his mind, but the truth of the matter is he’s not going to change his mind. He wants his revenge and no matter what, he’s going to get it.

  I shift off his lap, block my tears, and say in a monotone voice. “What’s our plan?”

  “Grace—”

  I shoot him a look. “Just tell me how we’re going to get out of here.”

  He studies me, then sighs. “They rotate, and from what I’ve heard, when they swap shifts, the other crew leaves. I hear the cars come and go. So we can assume we’ll have to take three down.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “It’ll have to be a surprise attack. When they come in, we need to take our chance. You’re tough, you can take a fully grown man down.”

  “Not if he has a gun.”

  “You can, look around you, Grace.”

  I look around at the simple room. “And?”

  “See that bookshelf?”

  I look to the corner and see an old bookshelf, filled with books. Aside from a rickety, rusted bedframe that has no mattress, it’s the only thing in the room.

  “And?”

  “We line it up, when they step in, you push it down over them. It’ll give us a good chance to fight. If you can get hold of a gun, you do it. It’s our best chance.”

  It’s not a bad idea.

  “What if there’s more than three of them?”

  He shrugs. “We’re going to die tomorrow, anyway. Don’t you think it’s worth the risk?”

  I nod.

  “Then tomorrow morning, we’ll do it.”

  I nod again.

  I shuffle into my corner and I can feel Raide’s eyes burning into me. I lie down, using my arm as a pillow. I close my eyes and fight down all my emotion. I have to focus. I have to get us out of here. If I don’t, I’m going to lose my fight.

  And I can’t afford to lose that, too.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

&n
bsp; Groaning shifts me from my sleep and it takes me a few moments to come to. The floor is hard beneath me, and my ribs ache as I slowly use my hands to push myself up into a sitting position. The groaning gets louder and I realize it’s Raide. He sounds like he’s in pain. I reach up and rub my eyes, then I shake my arm to try to get some feeling back into it.

  Raide makes a strangled sound and I push up to my hands and knees and crawl toward him. “Hey,” I say softly. “You okay?” I’m not sure if he’s asleep or awake, it’s pitch black in here.

  “Nah,” he grunts.

  “Your arm?”

  “Yeah.”

  Shit. How am I supposed to ease his pain? Maybe there’s too much pressure on the wound. I can’t see, how am I supposed to check that?

  “Do you want me to loosen the bandage?”

  “Yeah,” he rasps. “Please.”

  I reach down gently, running my hands over him until I find his arms. I find the knot I tied and undo it just as gently. He almost cries out with relief as I undo the makeshift bandage. I wish I could see it. Maybe I can beg for painkillers?

  “You need painkillers.”

  “Got some.”

  “Why haven’t you taken them?”

  He says nothing.

  “God, Raide, are you always so proud?”

  He chuckles but it’s full of pain. “Mostly.”

  “Where are they?”

  “Pocket.”

  “Is there a light in here?”

  “Only a shitty lamp beside the bedframe.”

  I must have missed that.

  “Hang on.”

  I crawl slowly over to the bed and feel my way about. It takes me a few minutes but I finally feel a lamp beneath my fingers. I fiddle and it comes on. The light flickers a few times but finally stays on. I crawl back to Raide and stare down at his arm. He’s on his back, with it by his side. I glance at him and he’s staring up at me with a beautiful, gentle look on his face. I look away quickly and focus on his arm.

  When I unwrap it, it’s red and swollen. God, it looks sore. I stare around, and notice a bottle of water in the corner, it’s about three-quarters full. They must have brought him water at some point. I nod to it. “Can I use that?”

  Raide turns and stares at it. “You drink some first.”

  My heart swells but I don’t let it get ahead of me. He’s just being nice. Making sure I’m strong. I retrieve the bottle and open it, taking a long drink. I offer some to Raide and he takes some, too. Then I find the cleanest piece of his remaining shirt and pour some water on it. I dab around his gunshot wound, trying not to react to his hissing as I clean it up as best I can. When I’m done, I get a new ball of material and place it over. This time I tie it loosely.

  Then, as if it knows I’m done, the lamp flickers off. Great. No more light.

  “Jesus,” I mutter. “Piece of shit.”

  Raide grunts. “Did you expect it to be anything but?”

  “Ha-ha,” I mumble. “Which pocket are the painkillers in?”

  “Left, back.”

  “You going to roll over and make this easy for me?”

  “Nope.”

  Jerk.

  I reach out to his chest. I suck in a quiet breath. I love touching him. I purposely run my fingers slowly down his stomach. When I reach his jeans, I slide my fingers around gently, dipping them into the first pocket even though I know the pills aren’t there. I graze his cock and it’s hard beneath my touch. I bite my bottom lip and I can hear his breathing become more frantic as I move my hand out and dip it into the other pocket.

  I graze his cock again, then I remove my hand and glide it over his hip and around to his ass. He lifts slightly and I reach in, finding a packet in his back pocket. I pull it out, and he lowers himself back down. I want him. It’s wrong, and I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I want him. I want to reach down and release him. I want to feel him inside me. I want to kiss him. I want to taste him.

  I pop two pills out and reach up, using my fingers to find his lips. He parts them and I slip the pills onto his tongue. Before I can remove my fingers, he closes his lips around them and sucks. I whimper and shift. Heat pools between my legs and I figure what the heck? We might not get out of here, I’m not going to waste my last minutes resisting the man who has captivated me so thoroughly.

  “How much pain are you in?” I whisper.

  “Feelin’ much better,” he says, his voice thick.

  He’s lying, but he’s doing it because he knows what I want. He wants it, too. I’m not about to deny him, not now.

  “Don’t move.” I run my finger down his chest and over his abs. I stop at the top of his jeans and I slide my hand over the top of them, feeling him swollen and thick beneath them. I give him a squeeze and he hisses. I smile in the darkness. I taunt him by using my palm to rub him through his jeans, he jerks and thrusts his hips up, silently pleading for more, but I just keep rubbing him slowly.

  “Keep doing that,” he pants, “I’ll come and you’ll miss out.”

  Good point.

  I stop rubbing him and find his button. I undo his jeans, jerking them down until I free his cock. I wrap my hand around it, and moan at the heat radiating off it. He’s so solid and thick, just the thought of how amazing he feels inside me has my sex clenching. I stroke him softly as I position my body over his legs. Then I lean down and touch my lips to his straining crown.

  “Fuck, yes,” he hisses.

  I swirl my tongue around the tip, and then I open my mouth and slide him in. He moans and thrusts upward, sliding even more of his thick length into my mouth. I take him, sliding my lips down, then back up again. I gently graze my teeth over his skin and he shudders. I love having the control. I curl my fingers around the base of him and start stroking as I suck him deep and hard, feeling him pressing against the back of my throat.

  “Jesus,” he grunts. “You need to stop or it’ll end.”

  I suck him long and deep once more, then I release him. I don’t take my clothes off, I just remove enough items to give him access. Then I climb over him, taking his cock in my hand. I guide him to my entrance and then slowly sink down onto him. We both groan low and throaty as he fills me. When he’s fully sheathed, I exhale and begin a slow, gentle, rocking motion.

  “Faster, baby,” he grunts, using his one good hand to capture my hip.

  “No,” I whimper. “Slow.”

  I rock back and forth, back and forth. My fingers find my clit and I close my eyes, dropping my head back. Back and forth, back and forth.

  “Grace,” he says tightly. “Faster.”

  “No.” God, it feels so fucking incredible.

  “Baby.” He winces. “Shit.”

  “Come inside me,” I breathe into the darkness. “Come, Raide.”

  “Fuck it.” He sits up, keeping me in the same position. His arm wraps around my back and his other hand takes my hip. He uses my body to quicken my pace.

  I put my hand out and find his good arm, and there I can feel his biceps bulging as he uses my body to make me fuck him harder. He’s going to hurt his arm. He’s going to— Oh God, it feels so amazing.

  “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “Then fuck me harder,” he barks softly.

  I unravel myself from him and turn, positioning myself on my hands and knees. He reaches out, getting the drift, and then he places a hand on my hip and drives into me, deep. I cry out and he starts fucking me, hard and fast. Our skin is slapping together and I’m biting my lip to stop myself from screaming his name. His cock is deep and he’s using it perfectly. He fucks me until I’m drawing blood on my own lip.

  “Raide,” I pant into the darkness.

  “Fuck.”

  I come with a jerk. Warmth spreads from my sex to my belly and I claw at the floor as my body trembles with my release. Raide’s hips slap against my bottom six more times before he lets out a long, ragged breath and I know he’s found his release, too. After a few moments, he slips out of me an
d I hear him zipping up. The sounds of him sitting let me know he’s good and done, so I find my clothes and make sure I’m dressed before sitting down next to him.

  “That was perverted,” I whisper.

  He chuckles. “Prisoners on death row get a final meal. We deserve a final fuck.”

  I close my eyes, and he notices my silence.

  “I’m goin’ to get you out of here, Gracie. I swear it.”

  “You can’t promise that, Raide.”

  He reaches out and curls his fingers around mine. “I will get you out of here. I swear.”

  I hope he’s right.

  * * *

  “Take a few deep breaths, lady,” Raide says, gripping my jaw. “You’ve got this.”

  He moved the bookshelf early this morning so I can give it a push and it’ll go where we need it.

  “When I say go, you push that as hard as you can.”

  I nod, swallowing.

  “We’re goin’ to get out of here, but you gotta fight, baby. Can you do that?”

  I stand up straight and say in a strong voice, “Yeah, I can.”

  He smiles, a half tip of his lips that makes my heart burn for him. “Attagirl.”

  I stand behind the bookshelf. We don’t know when they’re going to come in, but we’re not taking any risks. I press my palms against it, push down any fear, and bring out badass Grace. We stand like that for what must be a solid two hours. My hands are aching, my arms hurt, and I’m mostly resting against the bookshelf. Then I hear the sound of the lock being turned.

  “Grace,” Raide whispers, “you ready?”

  “Ready.” The door opens and I straighten.

  “What the—?”

  “Now, Grace!” Raide barks.

  I shove the bookshelf as hard as I can. It topples forward and I hear a loud, pained cry as it takes someone down. A gun goes off and I leap out before I even have the chance to glance at who or what the bookshelf took down. Raide is tackling a man, his hand curled around the gun in his grips. Another man is half stuck under the bookshelf, but he’s got his gun aimed at Raide. I leap forward and kick the weapon from his hand. It goes skittering across the floor and he hisses a curse at me.

  I go to lunge for the pistol but his hand lashes out and catches my ankle. He tugs hard and I go down with a thump onto the floor. With a kick, he manages to free himself from underneath the bookshelf. He throws his body on top of mine.