"What's the plan then, Elar-" Bella's words cut off mid-sentence as rage surged through me the moment that door swung open.
I didn't think, didn't hesitate—I launched myself at her, tackling her hard to the ground. The groceries she was carrying exploded across the floor, bags ripping open, cans rolling, and fruit splattering in a messy arc.
"YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU DID THIS! YOU'RE THE REASON FOR ALL OF THIS!" I screamed, my voice raw with fury as my hands clamped around her throat.
I squeezed, feeling the pulse under my fingers, her gasps and gurgles only fueling my anger. Somewhere in the chaos, Noah's desperate cries echoed through the house, piercing through the haze of my rage.
"BELLA, GET OVER HERE AND HOLD THIS PIECE OF SHIT DOWN WHILE I CHECK ON OUR HUSBAND!" I bellowed, my grip tightening for a split second before I forced myself to let go.
My hands trembled with the urge to rip into her, to tear her apart right there on the cold floor, to make her pay for every second of pain she'd caused.
Bella rushed over, her face a mask of determination as she dropped her knee into the woman's chest, pinning her down. The woman writhed beneath her, choking out pitiful pleas.
"Please... let me go... it was an accident... I didn't mean to..." Her voice was weak, pathetic, we didn't buy a single word of her bullshit. Accident or not, she'd pay.
My heart pounded in my chest, a wild drumbeat as I tore through the house, searching for Noah.
My shoes slammed against the hardwood, my breaths coming in sharp, ragged bursts. I checked every corner, every shadow—behind the couch, in the kitchen, under the stairs—until I reached the bedroom at the far end of the hall.
The door was cracked open, the faint flicker of a TV casting pale light across the darkened room.
There he was, sprawled on the bed, staring blankly at some mindless show blaring from the screen.
His face was pale, his eyes distant, but the second he saw me, a flicker of relief passed through them.
I crossed the room in two strides and threw myself onto him, wrapping my arms around his trembling frame. His chest heaved under my touch, his breaths quick and shallow, adrenaline still coursing through him.
"We're here... you're safe now, Noah," I whispered, my voice softer now, almost breaking as I pulled back to look at him. My eyes raked over his naked body, taking in every mark, every scar.
Small, fresh cuts marred his stomach, thin lines of red that hadn't yet scabbed over. Faint bruises bloomed across his chest and neck, some shaped like cruel fingerprints, others like the aftermath of blows.
I knew marks like these—but mine had always been left in passion, in love. These weren't. These were punishment, cruelty etched into his skin.
Then my gaze dropped to his hands, his fingers wrapped in crude, bloodstained bandages. My stomach twisted, a sickening thought flashing through my mind—had she cut them off?
"Your fingers..." I breathed, barely able to get the words out.
"She ripped my nails off," Noah murmured, his voice low and shaky, his eyes dropping to the bed as he spoke. "But apart from that, she didn't... well, not much else. Just..." He trailed off, a quiet sniffle escaping him as he gestured vaguely, unable to meet my eyes.
I clenched my jaw, fury boiling up again, but I forced myself to stay steady for him. I reached out, gently cupping his face, my thumb brushing against his cheek.
"We've got her, Noah. She's not getting away with this. I promise you." My voice was a low growl, a vow. I'd make sure she felt every ounce of pain she'd inflicted on him, tenfold.
I untied the coarse ropes binding Noah's legs, and the moment they fell away, he sprang up with a desperate energy, wrapping his arms around me in a tight, trembling embrace.
"Thank you, thank you, Elara," he muttered into my chest, his voice raw and broken. My heart ached for him—he looked so fragile, so worn down by everything he'd been through.
I turned to the bedroom closet, rummaging through the mess of clothes for anything to cover him up. My fingers brushed against a pair of pajamas—faded blue, clearly too big for his slight frame, but they'd have to do.
I handed them over, watching as he fumbled to get dressed, his hands shaky and weak. When he nearly stumbled pulling on the pants, I stepped in without hesitation. Kneeling, I tugged the loose fabric up over his thin hips, securing the drawstring with a quick, firm pull so they wouldn't slip down.
"Here, let me help with the shirt," I said softly, grabbing the oversized top. I slid it over his head, guiding his arms through the sleeves.
The fabric drooped off one shoulder, exposing the sharp line of his collarbone, pale and vulnerable. He looked up at me with a small, grateful smile, his eyes still glassy with unshed tears.
"Stay here, Noah," I started to say, but before I could finish, he threw himself into my arms again, clinging to me like I might vanish. "No, I'm not leaving you again," he whispered, his voice fierce despite the tremor in it.
There was no arguing with him. His hand gripped mine tightly, fingers digging into my skin as he followed close behind. We stepped into the living room, where Bella still pinned down the wretched woman responsible for all of this. The bitch lay there, gasping under Bella's weight, her face twisted with defiance and fear.
I pulled out my phone, scrolling to Mary's contact. She was on standby—a stroke of foresight on my part, or maybe just fate working in my favor.
"Yeah, we got her. Pull in. I'm sending the location now," I said curtly, hanging up and texting her the coordinates. My gaze snapped back to the woman on the floor, fury boiling in my chest again.
"You really thought you could mess with my family and walk away?" I snarled, dropping to one knee so I was eye level with her. Her bruised face stared back, lips trembling, but I didn't care.
"I always win." My fist slammed into her jaw with a satisfying crack, and her head lolled to the side, unconscious.
Bella climbed off her, wiping her hands on her jeans before rushing to Noah. She wrapped him in a fierce hug, tears streaming down her face.
"I'm so sorry, Noah. This is my fault," she sobbed, her voice muffled as she buried her face against him.
Noah rested his head on her shoulder, his arms weakly returning the embrace. "It's okay, Bella. Don't blame yourself... mistakes happen," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with exhaustion.
I glanced back at the woman on the floor, her limp form a stark reminder of the hell she'd put us through. This time, I wasn't gonna off her easily and quick. This time, I'd make damn sure she suffered every bit of what she deserved.
(Noah pov)
The van door creaked open with a grating rasp, and a cop stepped out, her heavy boots hitting the dirt with a dull thud. Her uniform was slightly wrinkled, the badge on her chest glinting faintly under the dim streetlight.
She eyed Elara with a mix of familiarity and exasperation, her lips curling into a half-smirk. "Didn't think I'd see you again, Elara, but here we are," she said, her voice rough, like she'd smoked one too many cigarettes.
Elara stood stiffly, her jaw tight, but she gave a curt nod. "Same place as last time, right?" the cop asked, already knowing the answer but wanting confirmation.
Elara dipped her head again, silent but affirmative, her eyes flicking briefly to the side as if checking for unseen threats.
"Alright, well, can you help me with her?" the cop said, gesturing toward Laura, who was slumped against the door, out cold, her face pale and smeared with blood.
Before Elara could move, Bella stepped forward, her presence commanding. Without a word, she gripped Laura by the arms, her muscles flexing under her tight shirt as she hauled the unconscious woman up and flung her into the back of the van with a resounding thump.
Laura's body sprawled awkwardly on the cold metal floor, but Bella didn't spare her a second glance, brushing her hands off like she'd just taken out the trash.
The cop raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by the display of strength. "Oh, thanks... uhhh..." She paused, waiting for a name, her tone curious but clipped.
"Bella," came the low, gruff reply. Bella's piercing eyes met the cop's for a brief moment before she turned away, uninterested in small talk.
"I see," the cop muttered, scratching the back of her neck. She gestured toward the van with a quick jut of her chin. "Well, hop in, and I'll take you guys home. I'll leave that bitch at the warehouse. Just a heads-up, though—I'm expecting the money tonight. No delays, alright Elara?"
"Mary, come on. I literally paid you immediately last time," Elara groaned, palm pressed to her forehead.
The four of us climbed into the van, the air inside thick with the stale scent of sweat and motor oil. Elara slid in first, taking the far side of the bench seat, her posture rigid as she stared at the scratched-up wall opposite her. I shuffled in next, the hard metal of the seat biting into my legs through my worn jeans. Bella took the spot on my other side, her broad frame pressing against me, her warmth a stark contrast to the cold interior.
Laura lay sprawled across the floor next to us, her chest rising and falling with shallow, uneven breaths, completely oblivious to the world. Sitting there, wedged between Elara and Bella, it felt like I'd found my place, like we were jagged pieces of a puzzle finally locked together.
It had barely been thirty minutes since I'd been freed from that nightmare, and already, a profound sense of relief coursed through me, loosening the knots that had twisted my insides for far too long.
I let out a deep, contented sigh, the weight of the past few days slipping off my shoulders. Instinctively, I leaned my head against Bella's shoulder, her solid presence grounding me.
My eyelids drooped, exhaustion pulling at me like a tide as I let myself relax for the first time in what felt like forever.
"Rest, Noah. You deserve it," Elara whispered from my other side, her voice soft but laced with a quiet strength that cut through the haze in my mind.
Her words were a balm, smoothing over the jagged edges of everything that had happened. Nestled between my two protectors, my lionesses, a rare sense of safety enveloped me.
The low rumble of the van's engine vibrated through the seat, and before I knew it, I drifted off, surrendering to a deep, untroubled sleep.