The Deliverance of Dilan (The Syndicate #4) (23 page)

I force my mind to focus on getting inside of that closed-up plane. Right when I’m ready to run, Roan pulls out his phone and places it to his ear without saying a word.

“Right.” His one syllable has me confused.

“Dad said to go. They have us covered. We’re going to have to draw her out somehow. You know she won’t come out now. She’s on a suicide mission. Fucking nuts, man.”

“She’s not going to come out. I’m going in. I’ll blow that damn door open if I have to.”

“Well, someone is.” He points in the direction of the plane. My brows furrow. “What the fuck?” I whisper confusingly. The door slowly opens. I see no one. Only a soft light reflecting from the inside. I’m going. I need to get in there.

“Dilan, wait!” Roan roars from behind me. I’m not fucking waiting. She’s in there. I can feel her, and I’m getting her the hell out of there. I drop my bag and my semi-automatic the minute I pull out a knife and a Barak SP-21 pistol. This fight is far from over. In fact, to me it’s only begun.

“Here I am, you fucking bitch. You want me. Come at me, you worthless cunt!” I scream once I reach the plane. I’ll keep shouting. She’s surrounded by her death, and she knows it.

“Dilan.” I hear a low, agonizing, deep moan calling my name from inside the door. I slide my body under the plane until I hear it again. Louder this time. Anguish belting out for my help.

“Juan. Jesus Christ.” I watch his body drop, landing a few feet away. His breathing is shallow, labored, and gurgling.

“She’s locked in the back bedroom. That’s all I know,” he croaks out before I watch his conscious body try and suck in the last bit of oxygen he can.

He can die. I don’t care.

Hitching myself up on the wheel well, I lean into the door then jack myself up and over, gripping tightly to the frame. I pull myself up, and pull out my gun, unlocking and aiming. I scan the disaster of the inside. There is blood everywhere. Jesus, she obviously stabbed Juan. More than once by the looks of all the blood. Christ.

I notice a short hallway to the right. She knows I’m coming. I can feel her fear. I pray to god she hasn’t done anything more to Anna. I’m not sure what I will do if I kick in this door and Anna’s beautiful face isn’t the first thing I see. Alive.

I spin, my gun ready to shoot, when I hear someone behind me. It’s Roan. Goddamn him. Stupid fucker. I sternly look at him then signal for him to check the cockpit. I don’t trust this bitch at all. I know the pilot is dead, but she seems to be full of surprises. Hell, she could have him ready to fire this fucker up and take off, for all I know. She’s basically committed suicide by fucking this shit up all to hell. I tuck back around and kick the door open.

“What in the hell?” The scene before me has my blood boiling.

“Hello, Dilan. Nice of you to join us. She bleeds well, don’t you think?” Jazmin tilts her head to the side, but me, I cannot take my eyes off of Anna. She is covered in blood. Her clothes are all shredded, half hanging off of her naked body.

My god. What has she done? I take one step forward. The only thing on my mind is getting to Anna, helping her, making sure she’s breathing. Then shit happens so fast I’m not sure which way to swing my head. Behind me, where a gun fires, or keep looking forward, where Jazmin lifts a knife in the air over the top of Anna’s stomach.

I keep my head forward, because the bullet blows Jazmin’s head clean off of her body, her matter splattering everywhere. Fuck, that shit is gross as hell. And quick. Jesus god.

“Fuck. Call an ambulance, dad,” I hear Roan yell from behind me. I move then, dropping my gun on the bed and placing my hand to Anna’s neck for a pulse. It’s light and faint, but she’s still breathing.

“Towels! Anything to help stop the bleeding!” I shout at Roan, on edge.

I’m afraid to move her, but god, we have to do something. I race around to the other side of the bed, ignoring the crumpled, dead body on the floor. I lift up the edge of the blanket on the bed, covering Anna’s body. I blot. Hell, I have no idea what the fuck to do.

The string connecting my brain to my heart damn near severs as it dangles by a thin shred of hope, tugging fervently to spring back in its rightful place. I’ve never been so scared in my life.

Roan comes in with a handful of towels. Both of us are working together to stop the bleeding by pressing gently on her wounds. Most of them appear to be surface cuts, yet she’s still bleeding everywhere like a stuck pig. And why the hell is she not waking up?

I’m losing control over my mind. Its bleak, black thoughts are taking control. I cannot lose her. Not like this and not to the hands of a vile cunt, whose brains are now splattered all over the place.

“God, no. Anna.” Aidan appears at the door, his eyes distraught as he takes in her weakened body. “She’s so cold,” I mumble. My lips quiver. My heart won’t quit pounding like a builder hammering the fuck out of nails. It feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest. My thoughts of losing her run like a fast-flowing creek through my shallow mind. Images of her lifeless, dead body flash before my eyes, while I stand here helpless, watching how life performs its next play in this fucked-up downward spiral of a losing battle of self-control.

“I need to see where she’s bleeding from, Dilan. You have to move. Hold her hand. Talk to her.” Aidan calmly switches positions with me. I drop to the floor, grabbing hold of her icy fingers.

“Baby. I’m so sorry. I love you, Anna. I hope you can hear me. I need you. You’re it for me. We haven’t even begun, sweetheart. You’re a fighter. You fight this. Come back to me.” God. I’m not good at this shit. I rattle my words off rapidly. Hopefully, she can hear me.

I hear Roan and Aidan talking, but I have no idea what the hell they are saying. I bring her hand up to my lips, kissing them, mumbling against her skin. I cry. My warm tears sting my face, dripping out onto her fingers.

I look up when I hear the sirens howling in the distance. Tears are flowing freely. I will never forgive myself if anything happens to her. I’ll admit that to anyone, whether it makes me a weak man or not. I need her, and I’ll be damned if I won’t stay by her side the entire time.

“Hey.” The paramedics are here. We need to step out and let them get her. “You can ride with them. Dad and Ivan are outside. The cops are here, Dilan. We have to go.” Roan places his hand out for me to take. I look at her pale face. Her body is covered with a blanket. I must have numbed out for a minute. Hell, I have no idea. All I know for sure is my cousin saved the woman I love. He killed for me tonight. I’m sure they all did.

I shouldn’t be thinking of how quick and easy this all was to kill her, not with Anna lying limp and hurt. I can’t help it though. Why in the hell would she bring us here, only to know we would kill her? She’s gone. That’s all I really care about. Screw the reason why.

It’s a bloodbath all over the place. There are dead bodies everywhere. How I missed them before I have no clue. All I really care about now is Anna. I don’t even bother to ask if any of our men were killed or injured. Or what the fuck happened to the man who helped start this war. Juan. I hope that fucker is lying here somewhere in the blackest body bag they have. This world will be a much better place without his sister, and paradise if the two of them are gone.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you cannot ride in the back. We need room to move. We’re taking her to Saints.” He slams the door in my face. I start to protest, only to be drawn back by a firm hand on my shoulder.

“Go. Ivan and I will be there as soon as we can. We have to handle this. Geoffrey should be pulling in with a vehicle any minute now to take you.” My uncle grips my shoulder in a firm squeeze, his sympathetic eyes matching his voice.

“Take him, Roan. We’ve already called Alina. They will be at the hospital as soon as they can. I have a mess on my hands here. Now, go.” He releases me with a pat.

I’m numb. The fear of losing her is so strong that bitter tears form in the back of my throat. I hold them in, saying nothing. Hearing nothing. Seeing nothing.

ANNA

I’m dead. I must be. I feel no pain. I see no dark. I see nothing at all. Hear nothing at all, except the voices in my head. My mom crying. Alina’s sweet and calming voice consoling. I hate hearing her cry. She’s mourning over me. The only thing I’m thankful for is she won’t be alone. She has a man who loves her, who will take good care of her, help her get through this.

I’m drifting, floating toward a blinding light. The strangest sensations migrate through my veins. The light is bright to the point my eyes sting. I squeeze them tight. That’s when I hear a deep voice from beside me. Feel my hands wrapped in warmth. My dad welcoming me maybe? No. It can’t be. He’s in hell for the things he has done. I have to be in heaven. My light is white. Bright. Hell is a combination of red and black. Dark.

“Anna, baby. It’s been three days since I’ve seen your eyes, your smile. Open them, sweetheart.” Dilan. He sounds so strange. Almost as if he’s struggling to talk. He’s hurting, over me. Is he here too? I don’t understand any of this.

“Dilan.” There’s silence. I hear nothing. God, have they gone? Did I imagine hearing them?

“She said my name. She’s coming around.” What did he say? I’m not dead, or maybe I am and the last thing I remember is the sound of Dilan’s voice.

“It’s been five days, for god’s sake. They said no brain damage and her cuts were all minor. Why in the hell won’t she wake up?” It’s Dilan again. God, I could listen to him all day long. Not like this though. Not worried. Not angst-ridden. I want happy Dilan. I swear he said three days before. Now it’s been five? Again, can someone please explain to me what in the hell is going on?

“Dilan. She suffered a blunt force to her head. On top of that, she’s still in shock. I promise you she will wake up. She needs time.” Good, Alina. Keep him calm, and when you’re done talking to him, can you please crawl inside my head and help me? I need to talk. I need to see him. I have so much to say. The first being I love him.

My mind reels as flashbacks enter. The abyss of walking on a tightrope, hanging on to that long pole for balance to not scream or show the agony she sent me into while she cut me. God, did she cut me, everywhere. Small, tiny cuts with a knife. Her horrible threats, her destructive words telling me how she was going to ruin my body, mutilate it before Dilan showed up. I remember it all. Every hateful word, every slice across my stomach. And my legs, they still feel numb. My entire body is numb. I’m alive though. I know I am. I need to wake up. I want to know if that woman is dead. If I can live freely now. If Dilan is freed from his past. If his revenge is over.

“My sweet girl. It’s been a week, wake up.” Mom. She sounds so much better than the last time. She’s hopeful. No more crying. Now it’s been a week. The days are adding up. It seems my mind has a damn mind of its own, if that makes sense. It won’t listen to me as I try and will it to wake. To look my loved ones in the eyes, to make sure everyone is safe.

“Your face is healing. Just a few bruises are left. You have a big knot on your forehead, but that’s it. You can wake up now.” I’m trying, mom. I miss you.

It’s dark. So dark. My eyes blink, water leaking out of them. “Hello.” Is that me talking? Good lord, my voice. It’s croaky. Rustling. I hear movement from somewhere.

“Anna.” I smile in the dark. That deep, velvety voice. “Dilan.” My head hurts badly, however, no amount of pain will stop me from turning it toward him. Even though I can’t see him, I feel him. Everywhere.

“God, baby. You’ve given us all quite the scare.”

“Sorry.” I scrunch up my nose. It hurts like hell to talk. My throat is dry and scratchy.

“Is she dead?” I somehow grate out, praying this is not another dose of the voices I’ve been hearing for who knows how long now. Please, let this be real.

“Yeah. Let’s not talk about that right now. I need to get someone in here to look you over.” He lifts my hand. I may have moaned from his moist lips touching my skin. He’s real. It’s him. I’m awake. “Don’t leave me,” I say, terrified. “I won’t. Not ever. I promise. But I do need to get someone in here. I’ll be right back.” My body shakes. I’m cold. I want him back. Preferably holding me in his arms, his warmth radiating off of him and slowly spreading across my freezing body.

“Well, Anna. You’ve been through a lot. I’m glad you’re awake. My name is Doctor Hamilton. I’m going to look you over while we talk. I need you to tell me how you’re feeling first. And if you have any pain anywhere?” This doctor has the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard for an older man. Deep, dark, and mysterious. My eyes have adjusted to the bright lights as I watch him read my chart where he stands at the foot of my bed.

I clear my throat. “Just my head. The rest of me is kind of numb.” I look from him up to the IV drip.

“And you will be for a few days. I’ve administered small amounts of morphine through your IV to help with the pain.” I’m fully alert now. I have lots of questions, not so much for the doctor though. I need to know what happened. How they rescued me, and what happens now. Are they dead? Are we safe?

“I’m going to slowly put this bed down flat. I’d like to take a look at those cuts on your stomach.” He smiles brightly. “Sure.” He then lowers the bed. I grimace slightly. Not from pain. From tightness. I feel tight everywhere.

“You’re healing well. A few of these have stitches, and you will have some scars. You’re a very lucky woman, Anna.”

“How many scars?” I’m not a vain woman, but the idea of having to look at the scars every day for the rest of my life to remind me of what she did has me on edge.

“A few dozen at least. But they are small, Anna. Some of them may fade in time.” I close my eyes, not quite ready to look at them, when he lifts my hospital gown, proceeding to do his job.

“Is my family here?” I question. “Yes. Your mom and your boyfriend are in the waiting room.” God. I can’t wait to see them. It was dark when I woke. I’m desperate to see them both.

“Everything looks good. The lump on your head has gone down. If you keep up the good work, eat, and can walk, you should be able to leave here in a few days.” Walk? Thank god.