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Not now. Not ever.
Watching her blood pour from her while her shivers spasm through her body is cathartic. A sliver of justice. Because I know that this is how Eve would’ve been: cold, scared, and shivering so hard that her body would convulse. She would’ve been so fucking afraid, and I wasn’t there because of this fucking whore and her fuck bud.
“Give your father up and I’ll spare your siblings,” I tell her, holding Ryan’s phone up to her face so that she can see the photo that Casper sent him of Alfie Chapman and his sister.
The song ends and starts again. It’s a trick that we were taught as part of our warfare training, specifically for use in the extraction of intel from persons of interest. It makes time seem like it’s going by faster, making it seem like they’ve been interrogated for longer.
“Someone has to talk. Whether it’s you or you”—I gesture between Mary and Warren—“it doesn’t matter.”
They’re both still going to die.
The door to the theatre opens suddenly, and Percival pauses in the doorway. I see the shock in his eyes. The fear of what I’m capable of tugs at his brows as he turns his back on the scene before he says, “The doctor is administering the last of the vitamin K. Eve’s stable.”
My heart leaps from my chest at the news. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since they put her in the induced coma. I’m not losing her now or ever. After this, I’m never letting her out of my sight. I don’t care what I have to do, I’m keeping her stuck to me. Forever. My entire being warms at the thought. Eve’s everything I need. The only thing I’ll ever need or want in my life for the long haul.
“Murphy,” I call over my shoulder. “I’m feeling generous.”
“How so?” He cocks his brow with a grin.
“Kill him. He has no value, and I’m done wasting my time.” I watch closely as Richard follows Ryan’s actions.
There’s almost a sigh of relief when he puts the dermatome down until Ryan pulls out his gun and makes a show of checking it over. The instant he takes a step back and aims it at Richard’s head, he shits himself. His naked body squirms on the chair, pulling at the ties holding him in place.
The click of the safety causes him to freeze, eyes bugging out of his head as Ryan takes his stance. He’s about to pull the trigger when Warren screams, “The boats.”
“No!” Mary croaks. Her voice is becoming weaker. “No…”
“Poplar Marina,” Richard mutters in a high-pitched keen, and when he falls silent, a shot ricochets around the room, bouncing off the walls as the back of his head blows. Brain and bone spatter and shatter on the wall behind him.
“We have no use for you either now,” I tell Mary. “You’re scrap. Unwanted. Unneeded. Unsalvageable.”
“If she didn’t die today,” Mary coughs, sputtering blood over her face, “she’ll die tomorrow. It’s the price.”
My hand grips the knife on the instrument table, and without a second thought, I slash the blade over her throat. Big eyes widen with panic and fear, the shadow of death dilating her pupils while I cut deeper, and what’s left of her blood pours faster.
“You are the price,” I growl, plunging the blade to the hollow of her throat as I tear it down her chest. “You are dying.”
No one will ever touch my Eve again. She’s mine, and she will stay mine, at my side until I am gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
EVE
It’s the sun. Warm and bright, it seeps into my bones as my eyes flutter open. My head is sore. My throat. My entire body, actually. The heavy throb makes it difficult to focus on anything but the ache and the taste of blood that lies thickly on my tongue.
Blood.
I can smell it. I can taste it.
“Hey.” The soft whisper cracks beside me. His voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it, maybe a little wet. “Hey, my beautiful darling.”
The throbbing pain burns as the words envelop me, the low timbre of his voice making my heart race so fast that it sets off the alarm, so shrill that it causes my ears to ring, and slowly, the realisation sets in. The pain in my stomach churns again, and the tang of blood grows on my tongue.
I’m dying.
I can feel it with every fibre of my being, every muscle that groans as I try to fight the darkness pulling me back into oblivion. My head is screaming, but my mouth is stuck closed, holding in my despair so that I can’t beg for help.
I don’t want to die.
