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Vic tugs at me and pulls my face up, screaming, “No one fucks with me, cunt. I’ll make you beg for death, and then, if you’re a very good girl—I might give it to you. But not tonight. I like to play with my toys first. The best part about owning someone is breaking them.”
The mist obscures and partially hides us. I can barely see Vic since my eyes are still going batshit crazy from the smoke bomb, so I know he can’t see me in any detail. There’s as much tears and snot dripping from Vic as there is from me. He’s a blur of a body.
I hold tightly onto the shaft of wood. Vic threads his fingers through the hair at the back of my neck and slams my forehead against the stone floor before grabbing my shoulder to flip me over. As he rolls me, the cocky ass is unguarded. Vic doesn’t expect me to fight. I’ve been so docile, resisting just enough that he knows I haven’t passed out. This is my moment, and I take it. I swing my arm wide and hurl the weapon in my hand toward his body.
The blurred movement doesn’t register—Vic can’t see the stake in my hand. He doesn’t block me. I don’t know if it’s because he can’t see the arc of my arm, or if it’s because he’s too arrogant to think I’d do it. Either way, there’s no mercy in me. My rage has boiled past the point of comprehension. Every bit of strength, every ounce of anger, and every emotion that’s fractured and fucked up my life channels into that hand. I slam the makeshift stake into his side. Vic’s body goes tense as he jerks back and howls.
Vic releases me and falls to his uninjured side. His hands reach for the weapon lodged in his abdomen, but it’s not there. I didn’t let go, so the stake is still in my hand. Warm blood coats my skin, making my fingers slick. I crawl toward him through the looming smoke, reaching across the cold, slippery floor, and wail the stake into him a second time, not knowing what part of his body that I hit. His shriek turns to gurgling, quickly followed by nothing.
CHAPTER 15
Silence washes over the room as the sound of fighting ceases. The cloud of smoke that clings to the ground is dissipating. It doesn’t hide everyone the way it had when Sean and Henry first chucked the nasty little orbs into the room. Long coils of white clouds blow out the balcony doors, escaping into the night. Suddenly, I can see what everyone is doing. As I sweep my gaze across the wreckage, I search for Sean.
Between the fog-like banks of clearing smoke, Mel stands over a prone man. There’s a silver knife in her hand. She’s breathing hard, waiting for him to rise, but he doesn’t. Blood covers her hands and her hair is wet with it. Taut tendons lace her muscles so tightly she could crack.
Behind her, closer to the half wall that once blocked the door is Henry Thomas. He’s wearing a once-white shirt, on the floor with another man, in a pool of blood. At first glance, it appears to be his. Henry is nearly prone on the man’s chest, his elbows locked, with his forearm pressing hard on the thug’s windpipe. There’s a savage look on the Englishman’s face. Henry’s gaze catches sight of his shirt sleeves momentarily, making him sneer. It appears that Henry is more appalled at the state of his dress than the violence surrounding him. Bodies are littering the floor, twisted in ways that shouldn’t be possible, caught in silent screams.
Pushing off the floor with one hand, I stagger to my feet and turn my head the other way. My dress is hanging off my body. It’s held in place, lopsided on my body, still clinging by one shoulder strap. The front of the mutilated fabric is wet and warm. I gingerly press my fingers to the dress. Blood comes off on the pads of my fingers. I’m not sure if it’s mine.
Dazed, I blink slowly and look for him—for Sean. He’s standing over my mother, sweeping her off the floor as he lifts her in his arms. Vic’s men lay in the wake of blood between Sean and the hole in the wall that once contained those massive black doors.
Everyone is frozen in a pose that reflects whatever they were doing when Vic’s scream fell silent. The remaining men turn slowly to see their boss lying in a pool of blood on the floor at my feet. Their eyes lift to me slowly, shocked. No one speaks. Instead, they turn and flee, rushing through the smashed wall and out of sight.
Sean stands prone and lifts his dark head. When those blue eyes meet mine, I nearly lose it. There are no words that could possibly encompass the way I feel. Emotions rush through me making me feel like I’m metal in the microwave.
Sean’s lips part as he watches me. There’s something in his eyes, an emotion that’s rich and pure. Words won’t come, and I’m stuck in place, unable to move, not able to accept that this is over. That we survived.
My voice warbles when I try to speak, “I saw you die.”
Sean shakes his head before he sits my mother in the chair. He leans down and says something softly to her. Mom nods once before Sean turns to me.
Sean’s intense gaze holds mine as he walks through the final traces of the lingering fog before stopping in front of me. He tips his head down and places his hands gently on either side of my face. He rubs my cheeks with his thumbs and coos softly, “It’s all right. It’s over.”
“I thought you were dead. I didn’t know what happened—” My throat is so tight that my voice cracks.
He holds me close, presses my head to his chest, and then pulls back a little to look me over and smears his thumb through the blood on my cheek and the makeshift bandage around my head. “I’m all right. It’s all right.”
“The gas—” I look at the fixtures on the wall, worried it’s still on, not entirely sure why I can’t smell it anymore. Or why we’re not puking on the floor from being poisoned.
“It’s off, Avery. I shut it off. I couldn’t let you—” he chokes on the words as his eyes sweep over me again and again. Sean cups my face in his hands and stands there, brimming with too many emotions all at once.
My insides are doing the same dance I see in his eyes. Anger and fear swirl together and scream like a banshee inside my mind. I slam my palms into his chest and demand, “Where were you? The bodies in the pool. I thought that was you!” I want to scream at him, but I’m still shorting out. My emotions turn on a dime and tears form as my anger recedes.
“I’m sorry,” Sean whispers as he holds me, touches my hair and pulls back to make sure I’m really there. “Plans changed at the last moment. If it weren't necessary, I wouldn’t have done it. I needed to guarantee that I could get to you—that I could pull you out of here. There’s only one other person who could ensure it.”
There’s a loud thud—the sound of wood on stone—as Constance clears her throat in the former doorway that’s now mostly rubble. She doesn’t step over the threshold. Instead, she glares at me. “You and I need to speak, immediately."
I stare up at Sean, shocked. “You set her free?”
He nods. “When Black climbed into the car with
you, I knew things were going to go to hell. Marty got hold of me on my cell before I got here. He said we were fucked, and needed another way out. Justin and Geek Guy, as you called him, were shot. Marty led Vic to believe it was Henry and me to give us more time.”
“Marty killed Justin?”
“He deviated from the plan,” Sean’s hands touch my shoulders gently as he looks me over, still explaining, “That meant his loyalty was questionable. Marty knew the stakes and did what he had to do. With things that fucked up, there was only one person who could help.”
Constance glares at me. “How touching.” Her voice is dripping with anger as she studies her filthy red suit. It’s covered in dirt and soot. Her hair appears as if she put her head in a wind tunnel and is sticking straight out from her scalp.
Sean glances at his mother, then whispers to me, “I’m still not entirely certain what her motives are, but she was our strongest ally tonight. She knew this place inside out and had access codes that allowed me to overtake the guards doing the perimeter check. Henry was able to disable the rest of the security.”
Henry stands slowly and puts all his weight on one foot, either weakened or exhausted. He grips his left arm with his right hand and speaks to the room. “I couldn’t go into the security room directly. It wasn’t perfect, which is why Melanie was such an asset this evening. I found her on the way in, and we took care of the rest of the cameras leading up to this room the old-fashioned way while your betrothed hunted that animal.” Henry glances over at Vic’s fallen body.
Sean nods, then continues, “I found Gabe, and he told me what you were doing. I gave his men the eye drops Henry created, so the smoke bombs didn’t incapacitate him and his men.”
“I didn’t know you designed those smoke balls.” Mel grins at Henry.
He nods bashfully. “Nothing major, just a round housing with some natural irritants. I developed the eye drops and nasal spray while configuring the detonation mechanism after a few misfires in the lab.” Mel watches him, practically beaming with pride. Henry smiles and shakes his head. “I like to dabble. It was nothing.” Henry eyes Mel, nearly blushing.
