Darling Wildfire (Red Rabbit #2)

28

THERON

“Daddy!”

Whit and Cole were huddled together on the floor near the window, gripping each other tightly while a man trained an AR on them. Just the sight of a gun being pointed at my little boy had my blood running hot. Cole’s eyes were fearful as they met mine and Whit had a cut above her eye along with a bloody lip.

Rage ignited in me as I took a step forward only to feel the barrel of a gun get pressed into my temple from a man standing just inside the door.

“Drop the gun.”

This came from a man seated in the armchair across the room. He was not much older than me, maybe mid to late thirties with a hawk-like face and thin build. He was all harsh edges and long limbs with slicked back black hair and sleeves rolled up his forearms revealing a tattoo on his left arm that looked like a logo or a brand I didn’t recognize. He was the only one not wearing tactical gear and carried himself like the one in charge.

“Drop the gun,”

he said again as we stared at each other.

I hesitated, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything without risking Whit and Cole so I slowly lowered the gun to the ground and it was kicked out of my reach.

“Have a seat,”

the man in the chair said, gesturing to the bench at the foot of the bed. I slowly made my way over to it and perched on the edge. The man’s features twisted into a cruel smile.

“I expected some excitement from you,”

he said, looking me over. “You didn’t disappoint.”

“What do you want?”

I growled.

The man smiled. “You military men are all the same. At the end of the day you feed off of violence.”

“I’m retired,” I said.

“Ah, but it never really leaves you—the bloodlust,”

he said. “I’m assuming you dispatched my team downstairs. I bet it felt good to kill them.”

I didn’t say anything and he chuckled. “It always amazes me how you all think you can commit all the atrocities of war and then come home and do this—”

he gestured around the house and encompassed Whit. “—playing house, thinking you can live a normal life.”

He looked back at me. “You get bored, don’t you?”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“Actually I do,”

he said. “I’ve read your file. It’s a provocative read.”

“My file?”

He stood up and walked over to Whit and Cole. I went to rise but the masked man pushed me backwards with his AR shoved against my chest.

“You have quite the resume.”

He ran his Glock down Whit’s cheek, brushing her hair behind her ear with the barrel. She cringed and leaned away. “Had all the makings of a career soldier—except for her.”

“Don’t fucking touch her,”

I snarled.

I went to stand again, but the man pressed the gun against Whit’s temple and I stilled. She whimpered, eyes wide looking at me fearfully.

“Who are you?”

I demanded.

He turned back to me and Whit clutched Cole tightly as silent tears trailed down his cheeks.

“I go by Vetticus,”

he answered. “I’m a recruiter, trainer, sponsor…I wear many hats.”

“A recruiter for what?”

“Atrox Gaming,” he said.

“Never heard of it.”

“That’s intentional,”

he smirked. “One of those private, invitation only things.”

“If this is an invitation, I’m declining,” I said.

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way,”

he said. “If Atrox wants you for the games, there’s not much you can do about it.”

“Games?”

Vetticus chuckled. “I save the best for the teams I sponsor of course. Perks of the job and all that. We’ll see if you make the cut. I have a feeling you’ll be a crowd favorite.”

“Let her go,”

I said. “I’ll go with you—just let her go.”

Vetticus’ eyes sharpened, and an amused look crossed his face.

“You are not in control,”

he said. “You’ll learn that the hard way I’m afraid.”

“Dad—”

Cole whimpered.

Vetticus’ head whipped towards him and he reached down and pulled him out of Whit’s arms.

“No! No!”

Whit struggled to hold on to Cole but the man behind her grabbed her and dragged her backwards. She thrashed against him until he slapped her and she fell back against the wall. I surged to my feet, only to get the butt of the rifle across my face. I fell to one knee, wiping blood out of my eyes and glared over at Vetticus who now held Cole in front of him.

“Cole, look at me,”

I hissed. “It’s okay, bud—”

I didn’t know what else to say but the minute his eyes met mine, it seemed to take the edge off the fear and he wiped the tears off his face. Vetticus crouched down behind Cole and my attention jumped to him.

“He can’t help you, kid,”

Vetticus sneered, cruel amusement glittered in his eyes.

Cole was still looking at me and seemed to draw strength from my anger because he scowled and then to my surprise, he snapped his foot back and kicked Vetticus between the legs. His grip on Cole loosened enough for him to slip out and run to me. I didn’t hesitate and pulled my knife from my boot as I knocked the gun trained on me aside and slammed the blade into the man’s thigh. He collapsed, giving Cole a clear path out the door.

“Cole, run!”

I saw Cole take off down the hall and launched myself at Vetticus.

We crashed into the wall, plaster cracking around us as I got my arms around his neck. He punched me and we careened into the nightstand, toppling the lamp. I landed a solid blow to his head, and he dropped, dazed and unsteady. I heard a cry, but it was from the man holding Whit. She’d grabbed between his legs and sent him to his knees. I pulled her to her feet, and we sprinted out the door.

“Where’s Emy?”

She asked once we were in the hallway.

“I sent her into the woods.”

We made it down the stairs, and I dragged Whit around the corner and straight into the man I’d stabbed who left to hunt Cole. I attacked him and wrestled the gun away as Whit scrambled down the hall towards the kitchen. I disarmed the man quickly and smashed the gun back into his face. He stumbled back, and I whirled towards him.

I was about to pull the trigger when I heard a gunshot behind me.

I turned and watched Whit stumble backwards into the kitchen island. She looked down at her stomach and clutched it as she turned to me slowly, shock in her wide eyes.

“No,”

I breathed.

I reached her just as she fell and guided her to the ground. I grabbed a nearby hand towel and pushed it under her hands.

“Here—it’s okay—it’s okay baby, I got you.”

She sobbed and clutched at my shirt.

“Theron—”

“Don’t talk, it’s okay, you’re okay—”

My hand left a bloody smear on her cheek. She whimpered, and a sob escaped as pain lined her face before her eyes slowly dropped closed.

“No…no! Whit!”

She slipped out of my arms as I frantically tried to wake her. “Whitney!”

I called her name as I patted her face repeatedly. Her eyes fluttered, and she moaned.

“You’re gonna be fine! Please…Whit, hold on—”

Fear clutched me and my vision blurred as I felt my heart seize in my chest at the thought of losing her. Shadows loomed over us, and then I was being dragged away from her.

“No!”

I fought viciously to get back to her.

“Enough!”

Vetticus roared.

“Daddy!”

I froze.

Another set of hands joined the first and dragged me to the edge of the family room where Vetticus once again had Cole in his clutches.

“Touching. It really is. But I’m tired of this game. I have a better one in store for you,”

he said. “It’s time to go.”

The world slowed and I watched in horror as Vetticus brought the knife in his hand up to Cole’s neck. Panic gripped every fiber of my soul.

I was lunging for him, fighting with everything I had.

The knife moved across Cole’s neck.

“NO!”

I roared. “No! Cole!”

All I saw was blood.

“I’m going to kill you!”

I screamed at Vetticus.

Cole. My boy.

So much blood.

Chaos took over.

Everyone was moving and screaming at once.

Pressure slammed into my head and the ground rushed up to meet me as I watched Cole fall. The coppery scent of blood assaulted me as a knee drove into the back of my neck, holding my head down as my son’s blood pooled across the wood towards me.

I scrambled in it, my hands clawing the floor as I attempted to get to him. Unhinged sounds came from me as my body shook with grief and rage and the overwhelming urge to take him into my arms.

His little hand reached out and I just barely grasped the tips of his fingers as I watched the life drain from his eyes, still open wide in surprise.

No. No. No. Please god, no.

He couldn’t be dead.

But as vacant eyes stared back at me, I had to face the horrifying truth. Bile rose in my throat as the growing pool of his blood touched my cheek. I was sobbing now, with no idea what words were coming out of my mouth.

Someone was screaming. It might have been me.

My ears were ringing and I heard a cry of distress as I was hauled to my feet. I fought savagely, my attention shifting to Whit still laying on the kitchen floor. Her eyes were open in horror, tears pouring down her face. She stretched out a bloody hand towards me, her mouth forming my name and then I was being dragged outside towards one of the SUVs.

Panic set in and I fought viciously to get back into the house. The sting of a needle bit into my neck and everything grew hazy. Sounds receded and before the world went dark I smelled gasoline and realized this couldn’t be heaven—I wasn’t blessed like I thought—this was hell and I was finally being called home.