Chapter 19 #2
“So fucking worth it,” Warwick smirked, tipping his head to the door.
“Let’s head out. I know a guy in ?rmez? who can get us a few pre-war Harleys.
They’re shit but will get us there.” Warwick glanced over Killian.
“Though he’ll take one look at you and charge us double.
Hope you brought your pocketbook, Lord.” Warwick’s palm pressed into the small of my back right below the pack, leading me to the door.
I swear the simple touch ignited my body with warmth, with the feeling of being safe, even if I wasn’t.
The hammering of our feet descending the stairs sounded like the execution drum roll, signaling the convict’s last moments before death.
“Warwick.” Kitty stopped him right as we reached the bottom. For the first time ever, I saw worry and fear in her eyes. “Don’t.”
“We have to.” He took her hand in his. “It’s my turn to protect you. And that means leaving here.”
Kitty’s gaze darted from him to Ash. I kept seeing her try to speak, wanting to beg them to stay, but she knew this was for the best. To protect her family, we had to go.
“You better stay alive, asshole. I can’t take you dying on me again.” She gritted her teeth, peering at Ash. “Both of you.”
Ash nodded his head as Warwick gripped her hand with a final squeeze before letting go. I gave her a bow of my head as well before we headed for the door.
The sound of glass shattering splintered through the room, jolting us to the side window. An object thumped to the floor near the sofa where most of the workers were rolling across the rug.
There was a moment we all took it in, comprehending what it was.
A bomb.
“Fuck.” Warwick uttered under his breath before belting out. “Run!” Shoving me toward the door, he motioned for everyone to get out.
Screams of terror pierced the air as people scrambled for the exit, clawing and shoving to escape.
It was like I could feel the explosive tick against my vertebrae, nipping at the back of my neck like a taunt with no idea where we were in the countdown to its detonation.
“Go! Go!” Warwick rushed me out, only making it a few yards.
Boooooom!
The force and heat of the explosion slammed into us, flinging us in the air like dolls, the fumes burning my skin. My bones crunched, striking the uneven cobbles, the backpack softening the blow a bit before my head slammed into brick.
I don’t know if I blacked out or not, but when my lashes fluttered open, the world felt like it was on fire.
Most of Kitty’s was destroyed. The outer brick structure was still there, but everything inside was blown out, gutted, and burning.
My ears rang; the only sound I heard was muted screams and the crackle of flames.
The smell of burning flesh and toxic flames scorched my nose.
Trying to push myself up, my muscles wobbled, feeling weak. “War-wick?” I tried to call out, but my voice crumbled and cracked. Terror wrapped around my lungs like a boa constrictor, my head feeling dizzy.
“War-wick!” I cried out again, but all it did was echo in my ears, not making much past my lips. Tears filled my burning eyes, half from the fumes and half from fear. Gritting my teeth, I tried to get myself to sit fully up.
“Kovacs!” I swear I felt his call more than heard him, but suddenly he was in my face, bloody and wounded badly, his torn hands cupping my cheeks.
A cry broke from my mouth, my arms grappling for him, wrapping around him with a relief I couldn’t even explain.
His mouth took mine in a vicious kiss, almost painful.
His fingers dug into my skin, and he punished my mouth as I clawed to get closer.
It was a desperate need to touch him. Pain meant you were still alive.
You could still feel. This was a necessity.
The hardcore truth was that if he were alive, I could survive anything else.
He broke away, his hand sliding down my hair, his eyes reconfirming I was in one piece.
“Ash? Killian?” I spoke, my voice a little steadier, the ringing in my head a little lower.
“Don’t know.” His voice was even more harsh and gravelly.
His hand firmly taking mine, he helped me up to my feet, scouring the scene. Bodies were scattered everywhere, bloody and torn into bits. And I knew even more were inside who never made it out.
Here and there, I could see heads and arms moving, a few sitting up, though very few.
My breath caught when I spotted Killian. Half his face blackened and burned, his clothes torn, but he was moving. Standing up, I noticed someone underneath him, protected from the worst of the blast.
“Rosie!” I bellowed, running over to them. Sloane was a few feet away.
Falling before them, I checked them over. Rosie was bloody and deeply scraped up, but nothing dire. She blinked, her eyes dazed, her fingers touching the blood dripping from her head.
“Are you guys okay?”
“I-I think so?” she muttered.
“I’ll heal,” Killian replied, making me exhale with a small sense of relief.
“Warwick!” Ash’s voice brought me back up to my feet as I watched my blond best friend limping over to us, Kitty next to him. Both looked really bad, but fae could heal from this. Most humans would not.
Another wave of relief hit my chest as I dove for Ash, hugging him hard, blinking back the tears. I knew many died tonight, but selfishly, my group was alive. The people I cared about were all standing.
“We have to go,” Warwick ordered, his head up and darting around.
“I can’t leave. This is my home. My family!” Kitty’s emotions were everywhere, her face streaked with burns, cuts, and blood. “Most are dead!”
“Exactly.” Warwick huffed. “You can’t help them now.”
“I’m not leaving them,” Kitty bellowed, about to turn away.
“Az istenit!” Warwick grabbed her arm. “You think you’ll help them if you are dead too? This was on purpose, Kit! Your place wasn’t bombed by accident. This is war.”
“Fuck you.” She shoved at his chest. “I want nothing to do with your war. I got out of that life.”
“That’s not how it works.” He gritted his teeth. “You can close your eyes and pretend, but it doesn’t change the fact you are part of this.” He waved his hand at the destruction. “They know who you are.”
“The only reason they know who I am is because of you,” she screamed, shaking her finger at him. Then her head dropped, her voice quivering. “I don’t want that life again. This is my home.”
“I know.” Remorse hinted in Warwick’s voice, but his expression stayed stoic. “But they will kill you. Anyone who survived. They will be in here soon to finish the job. We have to go.”
Kitty’s chin dropped to her chest, her beautiful slacks and silk top in shreds, blood staining them. She exhaled, lifting her head with resolution.
“You good enough to walk?” Killian asked Rosie, his hand reaching down for hers
“Yes.” She ignored his hand, rising on her own, but wobbled on her feet.
“Whoa.” Killian grabbed her hips, holding her up.
“I’m fine.” She brushed him away, moving toward me. My scrutiny silently asking if she really was. She responded with a slight nod, though her mouth was pinned with pain.
Warwick took the lead, the seven of us stealing away from Kitty’s House. All I heard was the snaps and pops of the flames steadily devouring the infamous building and many of the lives within.