Page 63
I'll pay her back when I can feel my bones again.
With the speed and freedom of a private jet, we touch down in New York a little over four hours later and it takes no time at all to unload everyone into the waiting procession of cars. Sabina and I sit just behind the lead car while Illyana is situated in the car behind with Valentina. The streets of New York are quiet by our design, with Raven having set up road blocks and 'inconspicuous' incidents to keep the roads clear and our route to the hospital as problem-free as possible.
"We're so close," Sabina murmurs. "Soon, she'll be ready for surgery and so will I. Then she'll get my kidney and hopefully, that will make up for the last ten years."
"Sabina." I thread my fingers through hers. "You don't need to make up for the last ten years. You forget that you are just as much of a victim as she is. Don't punish yourself for not being there when it was impossible."
Sabina turns to face me. "I keep thinking of the night they took her from me. What if I'd fought harder to get away while I was pregnant, or done more to hold onto her when they took her? I also used to wish I'd done something to get rid of her before she was born, but…" Her face tightens. "Then I just feel monstrous for thinking such a thing."
"Hey." I lean forward and gently kiss her temple. "I don't think it's monstrous. I can't imagine how painful or terrifying it was for you back then, especially with how young you were. You were tortured and manipulated by monstrous men who didn't care about you. They took advantage of you and now all these years later, you're beating yourself up when you shouldn't. Blame them. Hate them. Not yourself."
She smiles sadly and gazes up at me. "How do you always know what to say?"
"I don't," I reply with a soft laugh. "I just know that when there are some terrible people in play, they're always more deserving of the hate. Not you. And I promise, I will get to the bottom of all of this and these assholes will never threaten—”
My words catch in my throat as hot, solid air slams into my chest and robs me of the ability to speak or breathe. The driver's dying scream barely reaches my ears because we're launched into the air by a ball of fire that consumes the front of the vehicle. My seatbelt tightens painfully across my chest as we're lifted and spun. Sabina's hand slips from mine, and her choked screams sear through my mind. I glimpse her arms flailing and her wide, terrified eyes as we spin through the air. I collide with the door, the back seat, get almost cut in half by my seatbelt as we launch forward, and then we crash hard back onto the road with such force that the roof immediately concaves in.
And then we roll.
The glass in the windows shatters, sending an endless stream of shards to collide with our bodies, and we keep rolling, fueled by the force of the explosion. Several more deafening bangs rise up from outside the vehicle, but I can't tell what direction they come from as we continue to spin and roll. My head snaps in all directions, sending lances of pain through my neck, and then something solid and heavy collides with my forehead, sending me into a world of darkness.
When I wake, we've stopped rolling. My seatbelt came undone at some point in the crash and I'm lying on the roof of the car, barely able to catch my breath. An impossible weight rests across my legs that flares up with hot agony across my thigh when my first instinct is to move all my limbs.
I can't.
My leg is trapped. Moving one of my arms ignites a storm of pain in my shoulder as if the glass from the window has embedded into the joint, and I groan softly. Rain patters down on the ground in front of me, mingling with pools of blood spread out in front of me. I blink slowly, wrinkling my face as blood catches on the edge of my eyelid. Beyond me, several balls of fire rage around the shells of burnt-out vehicles, and the flames don't even acknowledge the pouring rain.
Sabina!
"Sab—” My throat closes and I dissolve into a rough coughing fit. Trapped, I can't even move to turn around, although I give it my best shot until the pain in my shoulder and leg becomes unbearable. All that escapes me then is a furious, pained roar.
I need to get up.
Need to find Sabina.
Illyana.
Valentina.
Shit, shit, shit, shit!
What the fuck even happened?
Gritting my teeth, I brace my good forearm on the ground and haul myself forward half an inch. My dislocated shoulder screams almost as loudly as whatever is trapping my thigh and the pain catches in my chest.
Then, two steel-toed boots land near my head and I freeze.
Our men don't wear steel-toed boots.
I look up slowly, squinting through the cold raindrops that patter down around my face. Those boots lead up into camouflage pants tucked into a heavy black belt nestled around a thick waist. Beyond, two massive arms bulge out of a skin-tight black T-shirt and a bald, burly face glares down at me.
Who the fuck is this?
"Get her," the stranger commands. Metal creaks and squeals behind me in between the patter of footsteps tumbling over one another.
Her? Is he after Sabina?
I blink slowly and finally notice a man standing behind this steroid freak. He holds Illyana's unconscious form in his arms without a single one of her machines or lines attached to her.
