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The car skids to a stop and I’m sprinting across the street before I’m conscious of my own movements. I reach for the door, some of the panic that has raged through my veins since the moment we realized they were being followed settles, but as my fingers wrap around the handle a large explosion rumbles beneath my feet. I glance over my shoulder and meet Storm’s frantic eyes, and don’t waste another second before tugging at the doors. My stomach sinks when they don’t budge, they’re locked.
“Around the back!” Storm shouts, taking off without another word.
I sprint after him, the force of my feet hitting the pavement holds me back from the edge of blinding panic. I’ve never known fear like this. My everything is in this burning church, and I don’t want to live a life where she’s not the center of it.
65
Snow
The smoke is so thick I can barely see Wynter a few feet away. Her coughing is getting deeper with every passing second, and despite my best efforts, my wrists are still bound painfully above my head. Blood drips down my arms in crimson lines and my shoulders ache from the position I'm hanging.
Tears fall against my cheeks in a mixture of terror and rage. The fear makes me want to give up, but the anger, the anger gives me the push I need to fight against the ropes. The need for revenge tugs at the edge of my vision, begging for me to escape and make that bitch pay for what she’s done to this family.
“Snow,” Wynter cries. “I’m sorry for making you leave the house. You were right. We should have stayed at home.”
“This isn’t your fault, Wyn. None of this is your fault.”
“It is,” she chokes. “It’s all my fault, and now we’re going to die.”
“Wynter,” I snap. “We are not going to die.” But even as the words leave my mouth, the smoke gets the better of me and I bark out a cough.
I’ve never known my sister to give up. She’s the strongest woman I know, I just have to remind her of that. I need to remind her of the queen she was born to be. We were never meant to be the Mafia princesses who did as they were told their whole lives. We were born to lead, and we will live to see our vengeance.
“I just need you to hold on. The fire should spread up the pillars and weaken the beams holding us.” I hope. “You are going to get out of this church Wynter, even if it's the last thing I ever do, you and my niece are going to live.”
“I won’t leave you.”
“You will. If you get the chance, I want you out of this building.”
“You’re my baby sister.”
“And you have my niece growing inside you.”
I tug at the ropes for what feels like the millionth time. The coarse fibers are so deeply embedded in my skin that I’m worried they’ll hit bone soon, but I don’t care. The beam above me creaks, I'm almost there, I can feel it. For a moment, relief spreads through my chest, but I don’t stop trying to get free, not even for a second.
But all that relief is torn away when a loud explosion sounds from beside us, tearing a scream from my raw throat. The heat of the flames is getting closer, the temperature and smoke almost too much for my body to handle. We can’t take much more. The longer we’re inhaling the smoke, the harder it is to breathe, and soon the lack of oxygen will drag us both under.
“Snow,” Wynter whimpers.
“I’m almost free. The beam is about to give way,” I tell her, tugging as hard as I can despite the searing agony.
“Wait! It’s going to—”
But before she can finish her sentence the beam above me cracks. I look up just in time to see the moment the rope comes free of where it was tied, and a second later, the entire beam is coming down. It almost happens in slow motion, but I can’t move. I’m frozen in place, rooted to the spot as I watch my own demise rush toward me.
Agony slices through my body as I crumple to the ground with the heavy wood laid out over my middle. The pain in my wrists is nothing compared to the weight piled on top of me, digging into my still fresh surgical scar. My eyes fall closed, the combination of pain and the smoke I’ve inhaled making it impossible to keep them open. My body craves unconsciousness. It craves the peacefulness that awaits me on the other side.
There’s so much I want to say to my sister, so many things I should tell her, but there are no more words. All that’s left is pain.
66
Elijah
Storm reaches for the handle of the door and immediately pulls it back, his breath hissing through his teeth. “Fuck.”
“Get out of the way,” I snap, taking the handle without hesitation. The excruciating pain only serves to keep me focused and the moment the door swings open, smoke billows out into our faces.
I quickly bring my burned hand over my mouth and surge forward. There’s no time to waste, we’re already far later than we should have been, but we got here as fast as we could. I just hope it’s enough.
