Page 27 of Relentless
“LET GO OF ME,” she screams, her high-pitched voice bouncing off the walls. She fights to suck in the air she needs as her sobs get louder and louder, her hysteria becoming almost uncontrollable.
“It’s okay, Dove. I’ve got you,” I say softly, hoping it’s enough to bring her down from whatever hell she’s lost in.
She roars, thrashing against my hold, trying to break free.
“Motherfucker.” I grunt when her heel collides with the top of my foot.
I’m struggling to keep her contained when something on the wall at the end of the bed catches my eye.
I freeze as my vision clears, and I find footage of her old cell clearly displayed.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe.
“How could you?” she screams. “H-how c-could you?”
Footsteps sound out behind me before the ominous presence of my best friend fills the room.
“What the fuck is going on?”
At the sound of his voice, Alana rips herself out of my grasp and flies at Reid.
I could have probably stopped her; it wouldn’t have been that hard. But what’s the fun in that?
“Jesus. What the fuck are you doing?” Reid barks as she rains fury down on his chest just like she did mine not so long ago. “So much for being a delicate fucking bird,” he mutters.
It takes a few minutes, but he finally manages to restrain her, much like I did with her back to his chest and her arms pinned to her sides.
“Let him go,” she demands, her cheeks slick with tears and her eyes red and swollen.
“We can’t do that, Pet.”
“Please,” she begs. “He doesn’t deserve to be down there.”
Reid turns her, forcing her to stare at the screen, which shows a high-definition image of her beloved husband lying on the cot that used to be hers.
He’s awake, staring up at the ceiling blankly. He has no idea if it’s day or night, or how long he’s been down there.
All he knows is that he’s locked up at our mercy, and we have his wife.
Personally, I don’t get that big a kick out of it. I’ve never really had an issue with him. But after years of stupid childhood rivalry, I know that Reid has got a half-chub over it.
In the space of only a few days, Reid’s beaten his ass and locked Mav in his basement. It doesn’t get much sweeter than that in the world of Reid Harris.
“But that’s where you’re wrong, Pet,” Reid murmurs, his lips so close to her ears that her skin breaks out in goose bumps, and her nipples pebble against the thin fabric of her shirt. “He more than deserves it.”
“No. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s not involved in any of this.”
“Maybe not. But that all changed when he broke into my house and pointed his gun at my head.”
“No,” she cries, her body sagging in his arms. “No, he wouldn’t do that.”
“Look at his shoulder, little dove,” I say, moving closer to them.
Her sobs of despair get louder, her body growing weaker in Reid’s arms.
“You shot him,” she states, her voice cold and broken before falling still. “I remember,” she whispers so quietly that we wouldn’t hear it if it weren’t the dead of night. “He came for me and you shot him.”
“I’d do the same to anyone who was stupid enough to break in, Pet. You should be thanking me really.”