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Suddenly Zeke jumps over the top of the bar, crouching down on the ground beside me. “Are you ok Cole? Are you hurt?” he mutters, holding his gun drawn, but turned and facing me. Touching me everywhere, searching for wounds.
“I - I’m ok. I’m fine.”
“You should have run with Gigi!” he hisses as he turns around and pushes up slightly; holding steady and taking aim just above the bar.
“I wasn’t going to leave you, Z.”
He appears calm and collected on the surface, but his trigger finger trembles slightly and I know that deep down he’s terrified. He’s not the trained killer the rest of the Havok Brotherhood is, he just knows how to protect himself, and after already being shot, I know he’s not okay even though he puts on a great show. Reaching into my pocket, I pull my phone out, fumbling to unlock it.
Swiping the screen rapidly, I do the only thing I can think of and send a text message to Riot.
Me: Gunfire. Rico’s.
Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I try to breathe but jump a mile out of my skin, falling into Zeke, when another bullet pierces a bottle of liquor behind the bar. On impact, the bottle shatters, raining remnants of liquor and thousands of tiny shards of glass onto my head.
“You ok?” Zeke turns to the side and looks at me. His pupils are entirely blown, and there’s fear brewing beneath the surface. I haven’t seen our assailants yet, but from the sheer number of bullets flying through the bar, I’m going to venture a guess that there’s more than one out there.
Gulping, I nod my head quickly, “I - I sent a text to Riot.”
Suddenly the bar grows quiet. Far too quiet.
“Run, please,” Zeke whispers to me, crouching down further.
Shaking my head, I refuse. “I won’t leave you behind.”
“Cole, you go-” his words are cut off and I watch as his eyes flick upward, looking past me. Reaching out with one hand, he grips my shirt and yanks me hard, flinging me to the side while throwing his body in front of mine. I hit the ground behind him with a dull thud, my head smacking the corner of the safe, and a sharp white light like the flash of a camera temporarily stuns me.
“No!” Zeke screams, and I hear gunshots but the room is spinning right now and my vision is cloudy. My head throbs and I bring one hand to my head, reaching for my temple, only to find thick, warm liquid dripping down my face.
I blink my eyes open and closed rapidly in attempts to focus on the room around me, but everything is still so unclear.
“Zeke,” I choke out, but his blurred form is moving away from me.
Where is he going? Come back. Don’t leave me please.
“Z.”
Another gunshot rings out, followed by a dull thud, grunts, and groans. My heart stops in my chest, because Zeke still hasn’t answered me, and the room just won’t stop spinning. Moving one hand to the floor and the other hand to the top of the safe, I begin to push myself up and my movements are halted when everything goes dark.
Thick scratchy fabric presses into my face, and I’m yanked backwards, being smothered. Flinging my arms out violently, I swing, trying desperately to connect with something as my screams are muffled. I’m jerked backward once more, and this time I fall against a massive, hard body. My limbs are restrained, held down and I can’t move no matter how hard I fight.
I’m losing the battle and I’m not just struggling to move, but I’m struggling to breathe. My head is shoved forward, and a sharp prick pierces the skin at the base of my neck.
It’s the last sensation I remember before fading into the darkness.
Everything hurts.
Everything.
My eyelids flick open and it takes a few minutes of blinking before my surroundings come into focus, but once they do, I don’t recognize anything. The rough concrete scrapes my cheek, and a groan escapes my lips as I press my palms to the ground, struggling to push myself upright. Planting the soles of my feet on the ground, I try to stand, but my entire body trembles and I teeter over.
Landing on my ass, I scoot myself backwards. It’s so dark, I can hardly make anything out, but I stop moving when my back hits a rough concrete wall. So much concrete. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I can make out what appear to be cell bars, a twin mattress on the floor, and a toilet in one corner. Almost like a prison cell, but this can’t be prison. It’s too dark. Too quiet.
“Zeke?” I whisper.
Some part of me already knows he’s not here, but I have to call out to him anyway. Just as I expected, I’m met with nothing but the slow, steady sound of a leaking pipe dripping, and my own words echoing off the walls of my cage.
“They brought you in alone.”
