Chapter 14 : Going to War
1171 Words
Teri’s POV
Teri had learned two things in the last two days.
One: Men who thought they were in control always underestimated her.
Two: That was their first mistake.
Her body ached, her ribs screaming in protest as she shifted against the cold floor of the warehouse.
Everything hurt.
Her lip was split, swollen and cracked. Her wrists were raw from the zip ties, her muscles stiff from being held in the same damn chair for hours—days?
She wasn’t sure anymore.
But she knew one thing.
She was still breathing.
And as long as she was still breathing, she wasn’t done.
She wasn’t beaten.
They had left her here.
Tied. Bleeding. Waiting.
Like a damn afterthought.
Like she wasn’t a problem anymore.
That was their second mistake.
Because she was done waiting.
Raf’s POV
Raf stood in the dimly lit room, his hands braced on the table in front of him, his jaw locked tight.
Around him, his men moved with silent efficiency, loading weapons, checking magazines, strapping on tactical gear.
The air was thick. Heavy.
Because they all knew what this was.
This wasn’t a rescue mission.
This was war.
And Raf?
Raf was about to burn the whole goddamn world down.
His voice was cold, sharp. “We move fast. In and out. No survivors.”
Enzo nodded once, sliding a knife into his belt. “They’ll be expecting us.”
Raf exhaled, slow and dangerous. “Good.”
He wanted them to expect him.
He wanted them to know what was coming.
Because he wasn’t here to negotiate.
He was here to end this.
A phone buzzed on the table.
Luca grabbed it, scanned the message, then looked up.
“Warehouse is confirmed. Four guards outside, more inside. She’s still alive.”
Raf’s fists clenched.
That was all he needed to hear.
He grabbed his gun, checked the clip, then slid it into place with a calm, practiced motion.
“Let’s go.”
No more waiting.
No more warnings.
They took her.
And now?
They were going to pay for it.
Teri’s POV
The warehouse was quiet.
Too quiet.
That was the first thing she noticed.
The men who had dragged her in here had been loud, cocky. Talking too much, laughing like they had already won.
Like she wasn’t even worth watching.
That was their third mistake.
She wasn’t a woman who sat back and waited to be saved.
She saved herself.
Her fingers twitched against the cold floor, her breath steady despite the pain in her ribs.
She had one shot.
And she wasn’t going to waste it.
The first man would go down easy.
The second?
That would be messy.
But she could handle messy.
She could handle anything.
Because she wasn’t just fighting for herself anymore.
She was fighting for the chance to live.
And for the first time since she woke up in this nightmare—
She felt ready.
She tested her restraints.
Tight.
But not tight enough.
They had done their job fast. Sloppy.
And that?
That was an opening.
Her heartbeat picked up.
She twisted her wrists, feeling the plastic bite into her skin—but the pain didn’t matter.
All that mattered was getting free.
She shifted her weight, searching, searching—
There.
A rusted nail, half-buried in the floorboard.
It was dull, barely more than a jagged edge of metal, but it would have to be enough.
She shifted closer, pressing the plastic of the zip ties against the nail.
Worked it back and forth.
Her pulse hammered.
She could hear them.
The voices outside.
Low. Tense.
She caught fragments of words.
“…taking too long.”
“…don’t know if he’ll come.”
“…not our problem.”
Teri gritted her teeth.
She knew who they were talking about.
Raf.
And that?
That just made her move faster.
Her hands burned as she sawed at the ties, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts—
Come on. Come on.
The voices outside grew louder.
Footsteps.
Too close.
Shit.
She worked faster, ignoring the sting of her own skin breaking against the plastic.
One more.
One more—
Snap.
Her wrists were free.
Teri swallowed the sharp relief and moved fast.
Before they could come back.
Before they realized their third and final mistake.
Before she could be stopped.
Her fingers trembled as she ripped the zip ties from her wrists, feeling blood rush back into her hands.
No time.
No hesitation.
She pushed herself up, biting back the groan that threatened to escape.
Her ribs screamed in protest, her head spun, but she had to move.
She forced herself to breathe through the pain.
It wasn’t going to stop her. Nothing was going to stop her.
Her eyes darted to the metal table in the corner.
A toolbox sat open, rusted tools scattered across its surface.
She grabbed the first thing she saw.
A wrench. Heavy. Solid.
Not ideal, but it would do the job.
The voices outside shifted.
Closer.
Her pulse pounded.
She moved fast, pressing herself against the shadows, into the corner just beside the door.
Wait.
Breathe.
The door handle turned.
Light spilled into the room.
A man stepped inside, muttering under his breath.
Didn’t even look in her direction.
Didn’t even see her.
His mistake.
Teri didn’t hesitate.
She swung the wrench, high, fast, brutal.
The crack of metal against skull was sickening.
The man staggered.
Collapsed, twitching.
But she didn’t stop.
She brought the wrench down **again, again, again—**until he wasn’t moving.
Her breath came sharp, ragged.
But she didn’t wait.
Didn’t think.
She ran.
Slipped through the door, into the dimly lit hall beyond.
Her heartbeat pounded.
Keep moving.
Find an exit.
She turned the corner—
And came face to face with another man.
This one saw her.
His eyes flicked to the blood on her hands, the wrench gripped tight.
And he smiled.
Like she was some fragile thing about to break.
Teri didn’t give him the chance.
She lunged.
Fast. Ruthless.
She drove the wrench into his gut, twisting hard, yanking it free as he choked on a pained grunt.
He stumbled, but he wasn’t down.
He recovered fast.
His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking hard.
She hissed, twisted—
And suddenly—
Gunfire.
The sound ripped through the warehouse, deafening and sharp.
A bullet slammed into the man’s shoulder.
Another tore through his skull.
His grip on her hair loosened.
His body dropped.
Blood sprayed against the wall.
Teri froze.
Because she knew that sound.
Knew that gun.
Knew who it belonged to.
Her breath caught.
The metallic scent of blood filled the air as the body at her feet stilled.
And when she looked up—
When she finally saw him—
Teri swore her heart stopped.
Raf.
Gun in hand.
Expression dark. Ruthless. Lethal.
And his eyes—
His eyes were on her.
And they were blazing.
Not with relief.
Not with control.
With pure, unfiltered rage.
- Writer
