Chapter 1 Dante #3
A voice slices through the fog, sharp and urgent, pulling me from the haze.
It takes my mind a moment too long to catch up before I realize it’s not the echoes of the past but someone here, alive, right now.
The world snaps back into focus just in time.
I stomp on the brakes, the tires screaming against the pavement.
A fraction of a second later, and we would have slammed straight into the tree.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” she yells, words laced with fury. A sharp slap lands on my shoulder, the sting seeping through the fabric of my shirt. “Watch the fucking road!”
“Sorry!” I yelp, jerking the wheel to correct our path, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My mind scrambles to remember our destination, silently praying that I still know the way. I need to get us farther from the prison—just far enough to reach my bike, parked on a quiet street.
From there, it’ll be easier.
My eyes stay locked on the road, but in the corner of my vision, I catch her sliding into the passenger seat, her foot nudging the guard’s lifeless body aside to clear a path.
A sharp spike of awareness cuts through the lingering confusion, and I ask, “Where’s the second prisoner? I can’t hear her.”
She shrugs. “Probably fell out the back when you started swerving like a fucking madman.”
The words strike me like a sharp slap, jolting through my body with a prickling intensity, like lightning coursing through metal. “What?”
She laughs mockingly, slamming her back against the seat before lazily nodding her chin behind us. “You’re so bad at this job. She’s right there, chilling with the corpse.”
My brows knit together as I struggle to process whether that was another joke, but before my mind can settle, a cold wave of realization crashes over me when I look at her wrists.
No cuffs.
“How did you get out?” I snap.
She tilts her head, as if amused by the question. “Told you. You’re so bad at your job.”
Anger flares within me, but I force it down, trying to push her words aside and keep my eyes on the road.
I pull up near our destination and cut the engine.
For the first time since we fled the prison, I let myself really look at her.
Daylight spills over her, highlighting details I hadn’t noticed before.
The top of her uniform shirt is unbuttoned, revealing a sliver of collarbone and the faint sheen of sweat that glistens in the sun.
“Something caught your attention?” she asks, irritation lacing her words.
Realizing I’ve been caught staring, I jerk my gaze back to her face, just in time to catch the glint of something dangerous in her eyes—a fleeting shadow of murderous intent that dares me to push further.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, heat flaring across my face once again. It’s maddening—how my mind seems to short-circuit whenever I look at her. She’s chaos draped in silk, a single vivid streak of color cutting through the washed-out gray of the mayhem surrounding us.
I can’t deny the weird pull she has on me.
“We’ll take a bike from here. Is that okay?” I ask quietly, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Is that okay?” she parrots, that infuriating trace of mockery threading through her voice. “Jesus Christ,” she sighs, rolling her eyes with deliberate exasperation before shoving the van door open and stepping out into the sun-drenched street.
Great. Her first impression of me is that I’m a fucking idiot, completely clueless about what I’m doing. Perfect for my plan, but humiliating for me.
“Get it together,” I mutter under my breath, forcing the embarrassment down and shaking it off before stepping out of the van to follow her.
The bike rests against the curb, gleaming faintly in the light. She strides toward it with effortless confidence, every step measured and unshaken. I catch up, lift it off the stand, and unclip a helmet, offering it to her.
“?Adónde vas? Where are you going?”
The voice makes both of us spin around. At the back of the van stands the other prisoner, her hands no longer cuffed—probably a courtesy of the menace beside me.
She looks disoriented, her brown hair plastered to her forehead with a mix of sweat and grim.
Stray strands cling to her face, partially veiling her vision, yet she doesn’t seem to notice.
A deep crimson stain spreads across her uniform, almost certainly from the guard I shot.
“Eres libre. You’re free,” June says, setting the helmet on the seat, her lips curling into a smile that never touches her eyes. “Puedes ir a donde quieras. Puedes hacer lo que amas. You can go wherever you want. Do whatever you love.”
The prisoner raises a trembling hand to her mouth, her wide eyes shimmering with unshed emotion.
She stares, as if the words are too heavy, too impossible to fully process, and her mind struggles to catch up with what she’s just heard.
“Pero... no lo quiero. No sé qué hacer. But... I don’t want it.
I don’t know what to do,” she forces the words out, her voice trembling and cracking on the final syllable, betraying the raw emotion she’s trying to suppress.
The smile fades from June’s face, replaced by a harder, more unsettling expression. Before I can react, her hand darts to my waistband, snatches my gun, and fires—a single shot to the woman’s forehead. The sound reverberates through the street, making me flinch, my ears ringing from the impact.
With an unnerving calm, she slips the gun back into my waistband as if nothing had occurred, her eyes lingering briefly on the still-warm body.
Then, with a quick slap to my chest, she snatches up her helmet.
“I offered her a way out, and she refused,” she states flatly, her voice devoid of any emotion.
I nod sharply, forcing my legs into motion. Swinging onto the bike, I fasten my helmet and press my foot to the gas. Her arms wrap around me, gripping tightly, her body radiating a warmth that feels almost obscene against the cold, lifeless bodies we left in our wake.
Fuck.
She’s a goddamn sociopath, completely void of remorse. I force my eyes onto the road, but her unnerving smile keeps flashing before me, a silent warning of the danger that clings to me like a small shadow.
What she did… It terrifies me as much as it fascinates me. I lower my visor, pressing forward, the engine’s roar blending with the chaos in my mind. Thoughts and emotions surge like a violent tide, each one heavier than the last, weighing down my head as I speed away from everything left behind.