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“Please keep fighting.” His breath is hot on my mouth. “I’d love an excuse to bring you so much more pain.”
Instead of responding to him, I react without thinking, screaming loudly for the guards. He knows how much Mother hates a scene.
Damian’s jaw twitches, the only real sign of his agitation, as the sound of boots come running down the hall.
“If they arrest me, I will find a way out.” His tone is as eerily calm as ever. “Either way, Mother will hear about this, and there is nowhere you can go that is beyond her reach.”
“They’re not for you.” I spit the words at him, and his eyes widen in the smallest hint of surprise.
The sound of stomping boots round the corner just as Damian slips into the shadows. I whip around to face them and come up short when Lawrence is standing in front of me.
My mind is running on fumes, and I know I don’t have long before they will demand answers or leave. There is no scenario I can think of where Damian won’t follow me and drag me back toher, no way for me to escape him in these wretched shoes.
Lawrence’s brows knit together as he glances back and forth between my face, my falling dress, and the mask on the floor.
“Gem—” he begins, taking a hesitant step forward.
“What is the meaning of this?” Einar’s voice interrupts from behind the guards as he tries to push his way forward.
Remy is the next to join him, the anger twisting his features replaced by shock when he takes in the blood dripping from my nose and the way my arms do little to conceal my torn dress.
I am practically bare, on display for everyone, and I can’t think of a single lie to get me out of this.
So, I settle on the truth.
Before I can think better of it, four impossible words escape my lips.
“I am the vigilante.”
The hall goes silent. Lawrence exchanges an alarmed look with Remy, while Einar opens his mouth to speak.
So I talk first, making the decision for all of them.
“I demand to be arrested and face the consequences,” I say, holding out my wrists and limping toward the guards.
Under the law, they have no choice but to take me into custody. And under the law, I will have to face the hangman’s noose.
Lawrence reluctantly pulls the iron cuffs from his belt and locks them around my wrists, his mahogany eyes boring into mine to let me know how much he resents doing this.
I look away from him, from all of them, before I can regret the most impulsive decision I’ve ever made.
At least this is a death of my choosing.
