BUFF (35 page)

Someone must have heard it breaking. And they will call the police thinking it's a robbery…

It's her only hope.

Emmett grips her hair from behind and yanks her back. “You stupid bitch!” He pulls so hard that some of her hair rips right out of her scalp. She screams. The pain is searing, making her vision flash white as she stumbles against the floor. He kneels over her, spreading her legs. She fights him every step of the way, but it only serves to both excite and anger him more.

“I’m going to take you in the ass until you bleed, Petal,” he says, pressing the blade across her throat. "Punishment for fucking that bastard scum."

Becky feels the skin give way to the blade, the steel cutting her flesh, a small ribbon of blood running down her throat. She feels his breath hot against her face as he mutters, "Don’t disappoint me again," pressing the knife tighter against her throat. She stills her movements, barely daring to breathe; the knife is pressing so tightly against her throat. "Not one fucking sound," he warns before sliding the knife from her throat. “You’re going to regret disobeying me. I’ve been too nice, too gentle with you. You need to be shown your place, woman.”

This is it. This is how it’s going to end and there is nothing she can do.

But she will never stop fighting.

For Colt.

Becky spits in Emmett’s face, wishing she could bite a particular limb off instead. “I’d rather burn in Hell than have you touch me again! I'll keep fighting, you bastard!”

Emmett looks down at her, his eyes gleaming. "
That
was against the rules," he hisses. "Now you'll have to be punished—twice.” He punches her, hard, on the side of her stomach.

Someone had to have heard the window shatter.

They had to.

Or she is going to die.

SOMETHING WORTH FIGHTING FOR.

Becky Appleton. That’s what she had been for him.

Sitting on his Dyna, his eyes lock on to the house where it all began, looking for the answer, remembering the night that changed everything.

Colt sits, motionless, his heart aching with regret.

I should’ve never let you go, Little Bit…

When he returned home last night, Abruzzi offered to join forces with him just as Colt had expected. He’s now a powerful mob boss. He finally has everything he’s been striving for in life.

Except…

Everything he’s done has always been about climbing to the top of the chain and you can’t get more higher than Abruzzi. But when Abruzzi went on about their endless stream of power, all the territory they now owned and controlled, all Colt could think about was how this life isn’t him anymore.

Not since Becky saved him.

He sees the world differently now.

Because of her.

The mob is—
was—
his life. When he left Becky he truly believed he could return to this life as if nothing had changed. But it has.

Her kindness, her compassion, her enigmatic beauty, it has all gotten under his skin, seeped right into his very bones.

Looking up at the attic window he fantasizes about finding her. Tracking her down—like she had done to him once—to start a new life with her. Maybe that’s what made him detour here in the first place. But he wants the best for her. He wants her to move on and go to college and become the best doctor that he knows she will be. He has to stay away from her.

He will only drag her down.

Colt goes to gun up the engine, ready to meet Jenson by the—

The fuck was that?

The sound of glass shattering stops him from leaving.

His eyes dart straight up. The attic window has been smashed through. And…

What in the hell is that?

A shadow moves in the attic window for a spilt second. He sees a face. The muscles in his arms jump, his hands clamp around the bike’s handlebars.

Becky... The fuck...?

A low guttural sound growls from his throat and he doesn’t wait to think about what to do next. He jumps off his bike and sprints straight to the house. The door is slightly ajar and he enters with caution.

The house is dark. All the lights are off and he can barely see anything. He draws his gun, hearing a muffled bang from upstairs like something heavy has fallen over.

Then Becky's scream shatters the silence, breaking something inside of him.

Becky.

He tears through the darkness, racing up the stairs, his gun sweeping every corner until he reaches the attic door. He holds his breath when he hears the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Becky screams again and his vision goes red. He tries the handle of the door. It’s locked.

Fuck!

He backs-up and kicks the door hard shattering the frame. The door bursts inward and Colt fills with white-hot rage when he sees what lurks in the attic.

Emmett Irving is crouching over Becky, clutching a bloody knife in his hands.

And Becky... she's naked.

“Colt,” she barely breathes out.

Her eyes watch him as if she’s seen a ghost. Her lip is split and she is bleeding from several visible wounds. Emmett turns his head when Colt storms into the attic.

Colt has never once run from a fight. He knows how to handle a bad situation; it's what he’s trained to do. He promised to keep her safe.

He isn't about to break that promise today.

"Get the fuck away from her!" Colt yells, leveling his gun. Emmett smirks, ignoring Colt completely and turns his attention back to Becky. Emmett slips behind her, using her as a shield, and forces her to her knees as he draws the knife to her throat.

“Becky…” Her name escapes from Colt's lips before he even feels them move. Emmett’s face twists into the most horrifying smile Colt has ever seen. Becky struggles, but doesn't put up much of a fight. She looks weak, like she’s been drugged.

"Back-up right now or she's dead!" Emmett shouts, dragging the knife down her throat, his fingers tightening on the handle.

Colt stands still, his gun aimed, his eyes searching for a clear shot. Fear tightens in his chest, his heart feels like it’s clamped in a vise.

He will die before anyone hurts his Becky. His Little Bit.

He's thought about this moment many times, the moment where it all ends. He’s been an enforcer for most of his adult life; there’s no way to get around the possibility that one day it will happen in his line of work.

But Becky… she is what’s worth dying for.

"Drop the knife," Colt commands. "There's no way you're walking out of here." His finger tightens on the trigger a fraction of an inch. "Let her go now and maybe your death will be short," Colt says, teeth clenched, his eyes flicking back and forth between Becky and her captor.

Becky’s eyes are half-lidded, her mouth moves but no sound is coming out. Colt concentrates on her lips, trying to understand what she's telling him.

Shoot.

She’s begging for him to shoot.

Colt shakes his head faintly. Fuck, he still doesn’t have a clean shot and there’s no fucking way he’s going to shoot through her.

"Fuck you! You're in no position to make demands," Emmett says, his eyes flashing with contempt. The hand that holds the knife scrapes down to Becky’s left breast, digging into her skin and her eyes go wide with pain. His other hand then snakes down across her stomach slithering lower and lower until it reaches her opening. He gropes her with his fingers, causing her to cry out. It takes all of Colt’s strength not to charge at Emmett like an angry bull.

“Don’t,” Colt spits out.

"I'm the one in charge here," Emmett says, his eyes dancing with excitement.

Becky looks terrified and Colt feels rage surge through him. The familiar emotion swells through his veins, his blood boils with hatred.

"You're a dead man!" Colt seethes, his grip on his gun tightening until his fingers are white. "You hear me?" he grinds out again. "You're dead!" His eyes lock with Becky’s.

He feels, more than hears, her speak his name. "Colt..." It comes out like a tiny sob, a desperate plea for help, tearing at his heart.

Colt tears his eyes away from hers, unable to bear the pain he sees there. Emmett watches him, his eyes glint and his mouth twists in an obscene smirk.

"She belongs to me," Emmett says, as he drags Becky to her feet and rises with her.

Colt feels his stomach lurch at the look on Emmett Irving's face. He looks like a child who has gotten exactly what they wanted for Christmas. Becky’s breath catches and a shocked gasp bursts from between her lips. Emmett chuckles, his lips twisting into a demonic smile.

"This, should be fun," Emmett continues, “You can watch. Find out what Becky really needs from a man.”

Colt searches for a clean shot, his lips pursing. Emmett begins to force Becky backwards, closer to the broken window.

Is he planning on escaping through there? Or… is he going to push her out?

"I will kill you!" Colt growls. His adrenaline running like wildfire.

This is his worst nightmare.

His father had tied him up and had forced Colt to watch as he raped and killed his mother after finding a new Old Lady to take her place. Said it would toughen him up, make him man enough to be the next President of the Royal Reapers one day. Colt’s trained himself every single day to never let that happen again. Moments like these is what Colt Lawson is renowned for.

He takes a step forward, his gun extends in front of him, his hand holding the gun steady.

There is no chance in Hell that bastard will kill her. No chance at all.

And Emmett knows it.

Emmett’s head tilts away from Becky’s. Colt has the shot. He lines it up and his finger tightens just as the darkness surrounds his whole world.

Colt sees it a split-second too late.

Emmett’s hand seems to move in slow-motion as it arcs down carrying the knife with it. Colt fires his gun twice, both rounds hitting Emmett in the chest. But the damage has already been done.

Emmett’s face turns to look at him and he actually has the nerve to smirk. Colt fires one last time, this time the bullet penetrates the center of Emmett’s forehead. He crashes to the floor, his evil smile still splashed across his face. Colt looks at Becky in horror feeling the life drain from him.

Becky lays slumped on the attic floor, her blood seeping everywhere and a five-inch blade jutting from her chest.

“NO!”

Colt feels the ground crumble beneath his feet as his world crashes around him. The seconds that pass as he races to her side feel like an eternity.

"Becky!" he cries out, falling to his knees beside her. "Becky, can you hear me?" There is so much blood; her naked flesh is soaked with it. Colt's hands slide up her arms, slick with blood. He is afraid to move her, afraid the knife might shift. He can’t pull it out. It’s likely that the knife is slowing the blood loss, temporarily capping the wound. Pulling it out will only aggravate it and make her bleed out sooner.

Becky's eyes flutter open and she gasps, her breathing becoming increasingly ragged. "Colt?" she says, her eyes searching for him.

"I'm right here," he assures her, taking off his leather jacket and placing it gingerly underneath her head to support her. He grabs the blanket nearby, the same one she had given him, and covers her trembling naked body as much as possible, making sure not to shift the knife. Leaning over her, he brushes away the hair that hides her face. "I'm going to call for help," he tells her, reaching for his cell in his pocket. "Just stay with me. Stay with me, Becky," he says, his voice panicking as her eyes begin to slide shut. “Becky?” He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees her eyes once again focus on him. "I need an ambulance at 103 Briarheart Lane. Someone’s been stabbed. We’re in the attic. Please hurry!" He tosses his phone aside ignoring the answering chatter and returns his full attention to Becky.

"You… saved me," she whispers, fighting to keep her eyes from closing. She smiles weakly at him, her eyes slipping shut. "I knew you'd… come… for me, Colt..." He feels sheer terror clutch his heart when her head rolls to the side.

"Becky? Becky?! C’mon, Becky, wake up!" he pleads. "Becky, don't you dare leave me," he orders, his voice rough with grief. “I should’ve never let you go.” He presses his fingers to the pulse-point on her neck, squeezing his eyes shut, praying.

He hadn't been able to protect her. He'd been forced to stand there and watch as that scum-of-the-earth hurt her. Colt feels a hot tear fall down his face. He’d been so powerless. The terrified, trapped look she'd had on her face haunts him. Her eyes had pleaded with him to do something—anything—to save her.

Just like his mother had done…

It can’t end like this. Not again.

“You can’t leave, Becky. I can’t lose you too,” he whispers, against the softness of her hair. It smells of strawberries.

She’s the sweet in his life; she dissolves the bitterness inside him.

“I’ll die if I lose you.” He feels her pulse beneath his fingers and the air caught in his throat exhales deeply. She’s going to survive this. She isn’t going anywhere.

“Olivia…” she whispers. His heart leaps, his chest tightens. “She… she was your mother.”

Colt closes his eyes, feeling the ice melting, seeing the dreadful memories of the night that burned his very soul; the pain, the anger, all contained inside, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Except with Becky. Opening his eyes once again, a tear falls.

“I miss her.”

He has never spoken about his mother to anyone. Ever.

He feels like he’s just opened the door to his soul to his dying angel.

She has to live; he wants to give more of himself to her like never before.

“I should have saved her.”

“No… don’t blame yourself for what your father did… No-one should have to kill their parent… no matter what… You’re beautiful, Colt… So… beautiful… I have to look away from you sometimes… like you’re not real.”

Nearly breaking apart he finds courage from within her words. “I’ve tried… tried to forgive myself for not saving her but… the things I’ve done since then…”

Coughing, she replies, “You’ve more than made up for any past mistakes with me.”

“I was wrong.”

“You’re never wrong.” She smiles, but Colt can see, clear as day, that she’s in so much pain.

She’s nearing on death.

God, he loved her so much it hurt. He loves how strong she’s been through every hardship she’s suffered. Her beauty holds no boundaries. He can’t help but smile at her strength though it fades quickly as his features turn dark once more.

Colt feels like he’s about to burst out of his skin. She hasn’t moved in the past minute, her breathing quiet. His face is set in stone and his eyes, his ears, his mind, and his heart, all lock to her.

The attic is bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight that clings to the floor around her. Dust particles twinkle like falling stars on top of them and his heart clenches in his chest when he realizes she is wearing his silver cross.

The one his mother had given to him.

As he takes in the sight of her, it gnaws at him, slowly, painfully, inside. Bruises cover her. Her wrists are red and swollen. His eyes travel over her, catching on to where the knife pierces her heart.

Beauty dying beneath him.

And there’s nothing he can do.

He wants to kill Emmett Irving all over again. But he's dead. He can never hurt Becky again. He closes his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. But his mind tortures him with images of Becky being stabbed, reliving the horror again and he opens them immediately.

Her eyes slowly open, their brimming with fear as though for a moment she believes she is still trapped in the attic with Emmett. Alone.

“It’s okay, Becky, I’m here. He’s gone. He can’t hurt you anymore. I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he says, gently stroking the side of her face.

"Colt…"

Bending his head down, his lips brush across her forehead. "It's just me, Little Bit." He wants to touch her all over, to make sure she really is breathing, really is alive. He wants to see the vanilla return to her skin, the familiar shade of rose to come back to her lips.

A heart-wrenching sob rips from her throat, "Colt?" Her voice moves him, breaks him. He makes a sound deep in his chest as he watches what little color remains drain from her. The darkness of the attic merging with the brightness of the moonlight almost makes her look like a ghost.

Even in death she is breathtakingly beautiful.

But he refuses to let her go.

He will fight Death himself to keep her alive.

“Emmett—”

“He’s dead.” The fear vanishes from Becky’s eyes as soon as they look up at him and it’s replaced with something so intense it shakes him to the core.

He watches her eyes spark for a second before sadness consumes her.

“I… I thought I lost you,” he says, the words choking out amidst the anguish as his body starts to tremble and his legs shake. He moves his hand from her hair and adjusts the blanket on her. Her hand comes up and brushes along his neck, cupping the curve of his jaw. He fights the emotions that assault him, the ones that have been plaguing him since he watched her fall to the attic floor.

He should be the one to die. Not her.

When his eyes meet hers again he sees the tears reflected there, the pain, the sorrow, the grief. He leans down, kisses her softly on the lips, taking her quaking ones with his own, giving in to the desire that curls up inside of him.

"You came back… for me," she says, as he pulls away. Christ, he loves that angelic voice of hers. Warmth fills his stomach, even despite it sounding coarse and low.

“Help is coming, Becky, you’re gonna be okay. But you have to hold on. Just hold on. Please.”

“I don't need anyone… but you, Colt.”

“I’m no good for you.” His voice trails off and his face falls to the side, turning away from her, feeling more tears forming in his eyes. “You deserve the world.”

What the fuck is wrong with me?

He needs to be strong. For Becky’s sake.

"I'm okay, Colt… When you’re with me… I'm always going to be okay," she says, tenderly. “Emmett… he was from my world... Don’t you get it?”

"I left to keep you safe," he whispers, the emotions inside of him too much to bear. "But I left you all alone and…" The guilt begins to consume him and he can’t see a way out from the hell that churns inside his head. “If I hadn’t left you…” he murmurs, as he brings the hand that still caresses him to his lips, his words quiet against her soft skin. “…If I’d kept you safe from the start you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“No,” she says, coughing again. “No… Colt… don’t take this on yourself… This is… my fault—” Becky coughs harder. He lays her hand back to her side, clasping it with his. "Don't... Don't make me bite you, Colt Lawson," she manages to say, squeezing his hand. "He didn’t rape me because of you... I’m still here… because of you."

“Even after everything that’s happened you still stay strong,” he says, shaking his head slightly, his half-smile failing to hide the misery that drowns his eyes.

Sorrow tinges her face. "I… God, Colt, you think… you think staying out of my life is… going to keep me safe but I need you to keep me safe,” she says, almost angry with him. Her eyelids fall halfway but she fights to push them up. “Don’t leave me," she says, her voice barely audible and her eyes finally close. "Don't leave me again, Colt… Don’t ever leave me again… You’re my world…”

Her body goes limp. Her chest stops rising and falling. He can’t hear her breathing. He can’t feel her hand holding on to him anymore.

“No… No, Becky, please, I need you. I can’t live without you… I can’t…” He no longer cares to keep his emotions hidden from the world. Tears stream down his face as he realizes…

He is losing her.

Looking down at how fragile Becky looks underneath him, something clicks inside of him.

Right here, in the attic, he had been the one dying. She not only saved his life that night, out of the kindness of her own heart, but she saved him from the demons of his past and his future.

He finally has the answer he has been searching for.

“I’m never gonna leave you. I was wrong when I said you could never be a part of my world.” He brushes his lips against her forehead and whispers, “How can that be true… when you’re a part of me?” Her eyes don’t open and his heart sinks. “Becky? Becky, did you hear me? Wake up. Don’t fall asleep on me, you have to stay awake. Wake up, Becky!” Becky’s breaths come in tiny gasps and her eyes open slowly. A shiver courses through his spine as relief washes through him. “I’m giving it all up,” he says, quickly, wanting her to know how he feels before it’s too late. “The money, the status, the power—all of it. I don’t care about any of it. I only care about you… Just you.”

“Wh-Why?” He can feel her body getting colder and colder by the minute.

Where the hell is that ambulance?!

“For you," he says, stroking the swell that appears on her cheek.

“For me?” He loves the way her eyes light up like two emerald jewels in sunlight.

“When my mom died…”

The pain he suffered the day he watched his own mother beaten and strangled to death at the hands of his father, it all comes flooding back to him, and for a second he thinks he can’t go on. But when he sees Becky, he feels he can do anything.

For her. Anything.

“All I’ve ever done is look for the wrong in the world, but with you, Becky—with you, all I want is to look for the right.” He watches her lips part just a little, but enough for his eyes to twinkle in return. “So fight this; stay with me. Because I’m damn-well not going anywhere this time.” He squeezes her hand, scorning himself for having let her go in the first place. “I’m never letting you go.”

Nothing
compares to her.

He needs to give her a reason to fight, to not fall into an endless sleep. "We're both messed-up, Little Bit, but in our own twisted way, doesn’t that mean we’re meant to be with one another?"

He feels like everything is going to be okay when he sees the answer in her beautiful eyes. His heart is running wild and for a second he wants to lean in and kiss her with all his heart. But he settles for smiling at her, content she is close by. Close to him.

“If I don't… make this—”

“Don't say that, Becky. You’re gonna make it through this. You’re a fighter, so just hold on a little longer.” The circle of moonlight around them begins to fade as a dark cloud begins to move across the Moon. He realizes then that a love worth dying for, is a love worth saving.

“Colt… just know… I want you to know… I don't regret a single moment with you…”

“Neither do I,” he replies, his whole center falling at the seams as her hand falls limp in his hand.

“You think… we… make it?” Her eyes remain shut when she speaks. She’s losing consciousness.

“You and me against the world, Little Bit. We can do anything.”

“Where… will we go?” Her voice is so faint he can barely hear her.

“Somewhere… far and light,” he replies, as the moonlight diminishes from the attic.

“I love you… Colt… Never stop saving me…”

“I love you, too, Becky,” he says, whisper soft, into the darkness. “Never stop saving me, Little Bit.”