Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“He was on the other side. And believe me, Scar was just as shocked to see me as I was to see him. He started banging on the walls, yelling every curse word he knew.” Gage’s breath hitched. “At them…not me.”
Roz was quiet, listening.
“I tried to make a run for the door, which was stupid since three men were blocking it. One of the guards hit me in the stomach with… I don’t even know what. It felt like a steel bar, but it dropped me.”
He heard it again in his mind, the animalistic sound that Scar had made.
“Scar lost it,” he whispered. “He was pounding his fists on the glass so hard it shook. Screaming at them not to touch me again. Telling them he’d kill them all. He was so strong. I thought he’d break every bone in his hands.”
Gage ran his thumb along the thick tendons in Scar’s wrist.
“I was on the floor, gasping, half-blind. I was so sure I’d die in there. Every time they pumped something else into me, my vision went darker. But Scar had been on the other side of that wall, yelling at me to be strong.” The corners of his mouth turned down. “Telling me I wasn’t alone and swearing he’d find a way to get us out.”
“Wow,” Roz exhaled.
“For two months,” he said, his voice almost a whisper now, “we went through that storm together. I’d hear him get yanked out, then dragged back in, shaking so badly his bed rattled. He’d be in so much pain, but he still talked to me. Told me stories about the block, about stupid stuff he used to do, and about the smart things that’d saved his life. Told me to stop thinking I was gonna’ die because he had a plan.”
The next sentences were hard for him to get out.
“He wasn’t the Scar I knew from the South Side anymore,” he said. “He was…still him. Still mean as hell. Still angry. But he…cared. He wouldn’t let me just lie there and cry. I think… No, I’m sure that, without him, I would’ve given up.”
“Shit,” Roz muttered.
Gage grazed his fingers over Scar’s, the warmth from his skin seeping into his. His eyes burned, the constant ache behind them flaring a little hotter.
“So yeah, Scar’s done a lot of evil, and he’s still a jerk most of the time. I’m not stupid, Roz. But when I was in that place…and the darkness was closing in…he always reminded me he was still there.” He turned in Roz’s direction. “Now can you understand why I can’t let him wake up alone.”
Roz didn’t say anything else.
They sank back into a silence. After another hour, Gage’s muscles ached in that deep, post-adrenaline way. His eyelids felt weighted, but he refused to close them or remove his hand.
Time scraped past in long, grinding minutes.
Scar’s fingers twitched under his palm and Gage straightened, every nerve waking up.
“Scar,” he leaned in, keeping his voice low. “It’s me.”
The door whistled open, but Gage trusted Roz to let him know if he and Scar were in danger.
Scar locked his fingers around his like a shackle.
“Easy,” he murmured.
Scar still wasn’t fully awake.
“Gage…” Scar’s voice was hoarse, almost broken.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
“…m’sorry…I left you…”
Gage’s breath punched out of him.
Scar’s mouth moved sluggishly, his eyelids barely fluttering, still trapped somewhere between sedation, memories, and consciousness.
He leaned closer, his forehead brushing Scar’s temple.
“I forgive you…just don’t ever do it again.”
“Finally,” Valor huffed. “The White Ravens.”
White Ravens
Scar
Awareness didn’t return so much as stalk him.
He was floating. Weightless. Boneless. Caught in that strange half-world where dreams felt real and reality was drugged.
His limbs were unattached parts, and his heartbeat thudded as if he were trying to breathe underwater.
Something warm blew across his cheek. A voice—soft, melodic, and familiar—kept saying his name.
“It’s me…Gage…”
His brow twitched.
That name hollowed him out.
In the drifting dark, he battled with the one thing he always chased off when he was awake.
Regret.
He wished he hadn’t left Gage in that fuckin’ barn. Wished he hadn’t been an asshole every time he saw him on the block, and they hadn’t been on opposite sides of the city. Wished he’d been man enough to—
The fog snapped, and Scar remembered.
The chase.
The snow.
The men who moved in silence.
Being tackled.
The sting of something piercing his back.
Shadows looming.
Blackness.
Scar forced his heavy eyelids open. His vision was grainy and refusing to focus. The stench of hospital-clean air stung his nose, sterilizers and bleach strong enough to gag him filtered through the haze.
He’d been caught.
Scar exploded off the table like a detonated bomb.
Adrenaline burned hot through his veins like oil set on fire. His pulse roared in his ears as his boots landed on the floor.
Someone lunged at him.
He spun out of their grasp and snatched the nearest object off a metal tray—too light. Useless. He dropped it, grabbed a stainless-steel table by its legs, and lifted it over his head.