Riot(25)

“Oh, that’s the tattoo on Ice’s back. How come you didn’t get a nickname?”

“Max is a nickname.” His tone was insulted.

“It is? I thought it was short for Maxwell.”

“No. Didn’t you ever watch Mad Max? He was a son of a bitch who went crazy and killed everyone when his wife was killed.”

“And you were nicknamed after him?”

“Yes.”

“How did she die?”

Max suddenly stood up. “I’ve got to take a piss.”

She turned to look at Jackal. “Have you noticed he’s overly sensitive?”

“Why don’t you tell him that?”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings. How did you get your nickname?”

“I stabbed my best friend in the back after he fucked my bitch.”

Jackal wasn’t sensitive; he was a jackass. She smiled to herself at her small jibe.

“What’s so fucking funny?”

“Nothing.” She didn’t think he would appreciate the joke. Unconsciously, she sought out Ice, finding him next to Fade at the steel door. She was about to look away when Fade jumped to his feet and opened the door. Both men rushed in.

Jackal saw what she was watching.

“Now they only have to get his cell door open. At least they can give him food and water until then,” Max said, sitting back down at the table.

Jackal gave Max a warning look, but Grace was watching Church and two other men draw closer to the table. She was about to warn them when suddenly one sprang forward, grabbing Jackal from behind. Church and the other one went for Max.

She screamed, standing up, her chair falling backwards, but someone grabbed her from behind, pulling her toward them. Her foot caught in the chair, but whoever had her didn’t stop pulling. Her foot finally wrenched free and this time, she gave a scream of pain.

“Ice.” Frantically, she looked to see if he was coming, but several prisoners were holding the door closed, not letting Ice and Fade out. Grace realized then it was going to turn dangerous. The men had plotted to attack Ice and his men.

As Church fell back against the table, Max knocked the other man to the floor then lunged at the others moving toward him, taking them all down.

Jackal pulled his weapon from his waistband and reached backward, stabbing the one holding him in the leg, slicing him open almost to his kneecap.#p#分页标题#e#

Two other men Grace had seen Ice talk to occasionally made for the ones holding the door closed. The one with dark-brown hair picked up a chair, slamming the group in their backs. They fell away and the metal door flew open. Ice and Fade came out, fury on their faces, and began fighting the ones who had tried to lock them inside.

While the whole room became engulfed in fighting, Grace was lifted to her feet. She was then dragged to the doorway and out into the hall toward the metal door the guards controlled with the lone working camera.

Ice grabbed the man and pushed Grace back toward the hallway. Fade caught her before she fell, lifting her up, and carrying her back inside the glass room.

He sat her down next to the wall, pinning her against it with his back. Anyone who tried to come close, he threatened with the tool he had used to open the steel door. They backed away, afraid they would end up on the floor with the ones Jackal was mercilessly ripping apart one at a time.

Ice finally managed to get control of the prisoners. The ones who had begun the attack lay littered around the room.

“You all right?” He pulled her from behind Fade, lifting her into his arms and carrying her to a table. She wasn’t aware of the broken whimpers passing her lips.

“Baby, quit crying. You’re breaking my heart.”

She stared at him in confusion. “I’m not crying.”

“Where are you hurt?”

“My ankle.”

When he lifted it in his gentle grasp, she bit down the cry that would have escaped and made herself breathe through her nose until she calmed down.

“Why didn’t you let me go? Another second and I would have been out of here.” Her accusing eyes never left him as his fingers searched her swollen ankle. She tried to jerk it from his grasp.

“Give me your shirt, Fade.” Ice’s gentle behavior disappeared.

Fade took off his shirt and handed it to him. Ice ripped it into strips then started winding them around her ankle without a word.

Grace turned her head away, unable to look at him. He told her he regretted involving her. Yet when the chance for her to leave had come, he had stopped it instantly. It was her own fault for feeling betrayed. She of all people knew how criminals’ minds worked. Winston would pretend to be her friend, only to hurt her over and over again while he had her. Ice was no different; he just used a different method.