I didn’t want to survive this. Not like this. Not with my heart in pieces and my soul screaming.
The ropes bit into my wrists scraping my skin raw with every slight movement. My cheek throbbed where he sliced it but the pain was a cruel reminder of how vulnerable I was. Tears burned down my face, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t die here. Not like this. Not without knowing the truth. Not before I confronted Judas. Not before I poured my heart out to him-spat every word of rage and anguish straight into his face.
The sound of engines roared outside, growing fainter. They were leaving me here.
No.
I didn’t know what to wish for.
If Judas came… God, no.
But Krystina was out there somewhere, maybe paying the price for someone’s mistakes. I couldn’t let her die.
My pulse pounded in my ears as I thrashed against the ropes. My frustration exploded and a growl ripped from my throat as I threw myself sideways, toppling the chair. I hit the ground hard, my cheek scraping against the cold concrete. Pain radiated through my body, but I didn’t stop. I kicked and wriggled, slamming the chair against the ground.
Crack.
The wood groaned under the strain. My heart surged. Yes. I could do this. I just had to break it.
I slammed it again.
And again.
Crack.
The armrest snapped. My hand slipped free, and I tore at the remaining ropes with trembling fingers, ignoring the searing pain as the timer ticked in my head. Three minutes and counting. Shit.
The last knot came undone, and I shot to my feet, stumbling slightly. My legs were still numb, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have time to care. I bent to untie my ankles when the sound of footsteps froze me in place.
No.
They were supposed to be gone.
My fingers worked faster, panic fuelling every movement. As soon as the rope fell away, I grabbed a broken piece of wood from the chair and limped to the door. My breaths came in short gasps, my heart slamming against my ribs.
The footsteps grew louder.
I clenched the wood, hiding behind the door, the seconds ticking away in my head. Two minutes. That was all I had. Two minutes to get out of this hellhole before everything went up in flames.
The door burst open.
With a scream, I lunged, slamming the wood into the back of his head.
He barely flinched.
What the hell?
The man turned, his towering frame and broad shoulders filling the doorway. He wore a suit-expensive, tailored. Not like the others. This wasn’t one of them.
It didn’t matter.
I swung again. He cursed-“Cazzo.”-and stumbled, but he didn’t fall. His hand shot out, grabbing at me, but I dodged, slipping past him and bolting for the exit.
One minute and fifty seconds.
I counted the seconds in my head. Fifty-four. Fifty-three. I was so close.
The door was ahead, salvation within reach-
A hand yanked me back by the collar of my shirt.
I screamed, thrashing, clawing at his arms. “Let me go, you bastard!”
He hauled me off the ground like I weighed nothing, and I finally got a look at him. Dark eyes, sharp and inexorable, pinned me in place. They were empty. Cold. But there was something else there-something deadly. Who the hell was he?
I clawed at his face, raking my nails across his cheek. He hissed, his grip faltering just enough for me to slip free. I hit the ground hard, pain exploding through my ribs. I tried to crawl away, but his hand clamped around my ankle, twisting it painfully.
I screamed.
“Shut up,” he growled, yanking me toward him like a rag doll.
His hands moved to my waist, flipping me effortlessly over his shoulder. I kicked, punched, did everything I could to free myself, but he didn’t even flinch.
“No! Let me go!”
“Enough!” His growl was low, dangerous, vibrating through his chest.
I realized, with dawning horror, that he wasn’t taking me back to the room. He was walking toward the exit. And there was no one else here.
Why was he alone?
It didn’t matter.
The timer screamed in my head. Twenty seconds.
I punched his back, screaming, begging for release. Would he survive if we stayed? No. He was taking me out of here.
Ten seconds.
Nine.
The realization hit me like a freight train: this man wasn’t here to kill me. He was here to save me.
Seven seconds.
Six.
His phone buzzed. He answered it with one hand, his other arm locking me in place.
“Fuck-”
Boom.
The explosion roared. I curled into him instinctively. The heat of the fire scorched my skin. I felt it. All too well. Everything blurred in my vision, except for the fire I saw coming towards us. My mouth opened. I didn’t know what I said. I didn’t know who I called for. What I felt was the motion. Like falling. Fire surged. I shut my eyes. And thought of him. Of the life I should have fought harder to live, of the voices that would never reach me now.
But wasn’t there peace in surrender?
The rush of wind drowned out the fire. And I let myself let engulfed in the fire.