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“Hey,” Tarl says, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing firmly until my cheek twitches with the sharp sting. It’s enough to bring me down from boiling point, from doing something stupid. “She’s stronger than any of us, and they’ll be here soon.”

As if his words were divine premonition, we hear a slight noise from the door to the left of us; the one we first came through and that leads to the coal chute.

We freeze, not even the sound of our breaths can be heard as we watch. My heart races, my eyes trained on the closed wooden door, poised. Only this time, it’s with anticipation flowing through my veins, making my muscles quiver.

Slowly, the door opens a crack, then pauses as if whoever is on the other side is waiting to see if they can hear anything. Several agonizing moments pass where all we can do is look at that gap, willing it to widen. Finally, the door pushes open further, and in steps Adam Taylor himself, breaking all kinds of protocol about letting someone less important go first.

His deep blue eyes sweep the room and his face splits into the widest grin I’ve ever seen on him when he spots us waiting. He strides over to us, shoving his handgun in its hip holster, not saying a word but his gaze sweeps over each of us, his smile dimming slightly as he clearly catalogs our injuries.

“Father,” Aeron murmurs, rushing over to our cell door, pulling out the key Doc gave us, and unlocking it. Immediately, Adam steps in, pulling Aeron into a tight hug.

“Fuck, boy. You know how to make your old man worry,” he whispers to him, his voice choked and gruffer than usual.

I have to blink back tears of sheer relief, swallowing hard as I watch them. Jude hurries over, adding his arms around them both, and Adam chuckles, placing a kiss on top of Jude’s head.

“Good to see you, Pops,” Jude rasps, his own voice thick.

Adam looks up, seeing Tarl and I standing back a little. With a last squeeze, he lets go of Aeron and Jude, then strides over to us, wrapping Tarl in a tight embrace first before coming over to me and doing the same. I wince at my sore ribs but don’t give a fuck as I hug him just as tightly.

“I’m so glad that you’re all okay. Shit, I was so worried,” he tells me, pulling back and cupping my cheeks in his warm palms, then bringing my head in to kiss the top of it too.

“I can definitely see a few new wrinkles, old man,” I tease, and he barks out a quiet laugh, just squeezing me tighter until I grunt, then he lets me go with a mumbled apology. I don’t give a shit, after my crappy childhood, having someone care enough to be worried about me is more than I’d ever dreamed of.

“We need to go get Lark and Rook,” Jude announces once Adam steps back. I look past him to see another dozen Tailors filtering into the space, all wearing black and heavily armed.

“Son—” Adam starts, stepping towards Jude, but Aeron cuts him off.

“We’re not leaving without her, Dad, and I promised her I’d protect Rook.” His voice is firm, his shoulders thrown back as he stares directly into Adam’s eyes.

Adam turns to Tarl and me, his brows raised, his eyes intense. “And you, boys?”

“She’s ours,” Tarl informs him, his words so simple yet they encompass everything.

“I’ll go get her myself even if you order us not to, no disrespect,” I tell him, and the faint hint of a smile graces his lips. I’ve always flirted with his orders, so this is nothing new to him.

He waits for a moment, looking at each of us again, then settles on Aeron.

“Alright then,” he sighs, giving his son a firm nod. “Let’s go get them.” He turns to the others behind him and starts issuing orders. “Reynolds, radio to the others and tell them to blow the power on my say so, the outer door, but be careful of the inner door as it may still have electricity running through it. Either way, it’ll be an excellent distraction.” Reynolds, who was Earl’s second and always deserved Earl’s job more in my humble opinion, nods and does as commanded.

“Gimme a gun, I’ll take point,” I urge, a grin splitting my lips as one of the others hands me an HKMP5 at Adam’s nod, plus some Kevlar and night vision goggles, which I put on but don’t pull down yet. I don’t need to fuck up my eyes before we start. Well, any more than they already are with the beating I took earlier this week.

The others get tooled up, and I walk over to the door that leads to the main room, Tarl behind me, followed by Aeron and Jude, then Adam and the rest of the Tailors. It surprises me that Adam lets us take the lead, but then I guess he’s always using opportunities to let us lead, to show the rest of the gang that we are the future.

“If anyone spots a big scarred-up fucker, don’t shoot to kill,” Jude snarls, and I clench my teeth together hard enough to crack when I realize who he’s talking about. That dead fucker who violated our bird while I had the shit beaten out of me.

“And the same for Rufus. He’s mine,” Adam adds darkly, and even I shiver at the tone he uses. It reminds me why he leads the Tailors. “Now,” Adam whispers, and I hear another whisper behind me, a second later the power goes out and I pull the goggles down just as an explosion makes the walls around us shake, dust falling all over us. “Now!” Aeron shouts, and I kick open the door with an animalistic roar, using my enhanced vision to pick off the scum in front of me who don’t even have their guns raised.

“Fuck, we need to find Dove and Rook!” Aeron shouts next to me and I nod in agreement. I have to check that she’s alright. Who the fuck knows what has happened to her in the past few hours. We also need them both out of here ASAP, otherwise, they may end up getting shot by mistake.

I look around, not seeing any sign of either of them, and then I spot a door in the back of the room, to the left of us.

“There!” I yell back, pointing, the sound of gunshots in the enclosed basement enough to fucking shatter all our eardrums. He passes the message on to Tarl and Jude, and we slowly make our way across the room as chaos reigns around us, the copper tang of blood filling the air as bodies hit the ground.

We finally reach the door, and I quickly push it open and step through, the others following me. I breathe a sigh of relief when the door shuts behind us, the sounds of the gunfight muffled even though my ears still fucking ring.

The corridor has several doors lining it, all of them the same plain dingy wood. The walls are covered in an ancient paper that’s peeling and has a damp smell which leaves my nose wrinkling.

“This place is a shithole,” Jude comments quietly as we walk down the passageway, guns poised. Tarl is at our backs in case anyone comes this way, but they won’t make it far. “Do we just try every door?”

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