Chapter Thirty-Three
I DIDN’T WAIT long enough for the silence to feel safe, because safe didn’t exist down here, not really, and the longer we sat still the more it felt like the walls were settling around us, like the space itself was closing in one inch at a time.
“Come on,” I said, already moving back toward the wall, dropping to my knees where we’d covered the stone, my hands going straight to the dirt we’d packed over it.
Ruby didn’t move at first.
I could feel it behind me, the hesitation, the fear, the part of her that wanted to stay exactly where she was because at least there was no immediate danger in not moving.
“Ruby,” I said, sharper this time, not looking back. “Now.”
That got her.
I heard the shift, the scrape of her knees hitting the ground beside me as she leaned in, her hands coming down a second later, digging in faster this time, rougher, like she needed to do something with the panic sitting under her skin.
We didn’t talk.
Didn’t waste breath on it.
Just worked.
The dirt gave easier now where we’d already loosened it, falling away faster under our fingers as we cleared the stone again, exposing the edge, then more of it, the cold surface pressing back against our palms like it was part of the wall itself.
“On three,” I said, adjusting my grip again, forcing my fingers deeper under the lip we’d uncovered.
She nodded, even though I couldn’t see it.
“One—two—”
We pushed.
The stone resisted at first, solid and unmoving, and for a second it felt exactly like before, like we weren’t going to get anything out of it… then it shifted.
More than last time. Not much. But enough.
“Again,” Ruby breathed, something raw breaking through in her voice now.
We reset and pushed harder, both of us putting everything into it, our shoulders straining, dirt collapsing in around our hands as the stone scraped again, louder this time, grinding against whatever held it in place before giving way another inch.
Cold air rushed through the gap, stronger now, carrying something with it that wasn’t just damp earth.
Open space.
“Keep going,” I said, even though my arms were already shaking, even though my fingers were starting to slip against the edge.
We pushed again.
This time the stone gave enough to tilt, one side dropping slightly as the dirt beneath it broke loose, opening the gap wider, enough that I could see past it now, not clearly, not fully, but enough to know it wasn’t just packed dirt behind it.
There was a drop. Not far. But enough.
My breath caught for a second as I leaned closer, squinting into the dark, trying to make it out.
“I think it leads somewhere,” I said, quieter now, more focused. “Not just another wall.”
Ruby shifted beside me, leaning in too fast, her shoulder knocking into mine as she tried to see. “Then we go,” she said immediately, the words tumbling out. “We go now—”
“Wait,” I cut in, grabbing her arm before she could push forward.
The edge wasn’t stable.
I could feel it in the way the dirt shifted under the stone, in the way the gap widened unevenly, like the whole thing could collapse if we rushed it.
“It’s not steady,” I said, forcing myself to slow down even though everything in me wanted to move. “If it drops, it could bury the opening.”
“And if we stay, we die,” she snapped back, the panic breaking through again, louder now.
She wasn’t wrong.
I looked back at the gap, at the darkness beyond it, then at the stone still half-set in place, heavy enough that if it slipped wrong it could pin us, or worse.
We didn’t have time to do this clean, and we didn’t have time to do it right.
“Help me hold it,” I said finally, shifting my position, bracing one shoulder against the side of the opening while I got both hands under the edge. “We move it together, slow.”
Ruby hesitated for a second. Then she nodded and moved in, pressing her hands against the other side, her breath uneven as she got into position.
“On three,” I said again, my voice lower now, tighter. “And don’t let go.”
“One—two—three.”
We lifted.
The stone shifted up and out just enough to clear the opening, the weight of it dragging against our grip as dirt poured down around it, the ground beneath us shifting slightly as the pressure changed.
“Hold it,” I gritted out, my arms screaming now as I tried to keep it from slipping.
“I—I can’t—” Ruby’s voice broke, her hands shaking against the weight.
“You can,” I snapped, sharper now. “Just a second—”
The stone slipped. Not all the way. But enough. It dropped hard against the side of the opening, sending a cascade of dirt down into the gap and knocking my grip loose as the edge slammed into my forearm. Pain shot up my arm, sharp enough to make my vision blur for a second.
“Evie—” Ruby gasped.
“I’m fine,” I bit out, even though I wasn’t, even though my arm was already throbbing as I shoved it back into place and grabbed the edge again before the opening could close.
The gap was wider now.
I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to look past the pain, past the way the ground still felt like it might give under us, focusing on what mattered. “This is it,” I said, my voice quieter now, but steady. “This is our way out.”
Ruby stared at the opening, then back at me, her eyes wide, fear and hope crashing together so hard it almost looked like neither. “How far do you think it goes?” she asked.
I looked into the dark again. “Far enough,” I said.
Because it had to be. Because the alternative wasn’t an option anymore.
I shifted closer to the edge, testing the ground carefully, feeling where it held and where it didn’t, my pulse still hammering as I braced myself.
“Once we go,” I said, glancing back at her, “we don’t come back this way.”
Ruby swallowed hard. Then nodded. “Okay,” she whispered.
I turned back to the opening, drew in one slow breath, and started to climb through.
***
THE CLIMB FELT longer than it should have, my arms shaking as I dragged myself up through the narrow opening, dirt crumbling under my fingers and falling back into the darkness below while Ruby pushed up behind me, both of us moving faster than we should have been able to after everything, driven by something that felt a lot like panic and a lot like hope tangled together.
Cold air hit my face first.
Real air.
Not damp, not stale.
Open.
For a second I just stayed there, half out of the ground, my chest pulling in breath after breath like I didn’t trust it to still be there if I stopped, like if I hesitated too long something would drag me right back down into that hole.
“Move,” Ruby whispered behind me, her voice tight, urgent, and that was enough to snap me out of it as I pulled the rest of the way out, rolling onto my side in the dirt before pushing up onto my hands and knees.
The woods stretched around us, dark and wide and too open after everything we’d just come through, the quiet pressing in strange and wrong, broken only by something distant, shouting, maybe, or engines, something I couldn’t quite place but knew didn’t belong to safety.
We made it. We actually—a sound shifted behind us.
Ruby froze before I did, her hand catching my arm hard enough to stop me mid-movement, and I felt it then, that change in the air, that wrongness settling in deeper as I turned slowly, every instinct already telling me I didn’t want to see what was there.
Kane stepped out from the trees like he’d been there the whole time.
Watching.
Waiting.
My stomach dropped so fast it felt like I was falling again, my body locking up as his eyes moved between us, slow, calculating, like he was working something out in real time.
“Well,” he said, almost thoughtful, like this was nothing more than a mild inconvenience. “Look what crawled out of the dirt like rats.”
Ruby shifted beside me, just enough that I felt it, her grip tightening on my arm, and I knew she was thinking the same thing as I was, that we hadn’t escaped anything at all.
Kane’s gaze flicked past us, toward the direction of the clubhouse, where the distant noise was growing louder now, and something in his expression changed, not fear exactly but something close to urgency, something colder.
“Fuckin’ feds,” he muttered, almost to himself, and then his attention snapped back to us, decision settling in hard. “You both better be real quiet,” he added.
Ruby, realizing he meant help was in hearing range, decided to scream.
“You stupid bitch!” he snarled, pulling out his gun and pointing it us. “Time to die.”
My heart started pounding harder, panic rising fast as he took a step forward, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world even though everything around us said he didn’t, and I pushed myself up just enough to move, to try—something, anything—
The shot cracked through the trees before I made it two steps.
Kane jerked, the sound cutting him off mid-motion as his body twisted, shock flashing across his face before he dropped hard to the ground.
For a second I didn’t understand what I was seeing, my mind lagging behind it as everything tried to catch up—until I saw him.
Gatsby.
He stepped out from the shadows like the dark had just decided to give him back, his gun still raised, his focus locked on Kane for half a second longer before it shifted to me, and everything in me stopped, the fear, the panic, the noise in my head, because he was here.
He found me.
“Gatsby—” I started, my voice breaking on his name as I pushed toward him without thinking, my body already moving—
“Don’t,” he cut in low, not harsh but urgent, his eyes flicking past me toward the trees, toward the noise that was getting closer now, louder, too close.
Voices.
Shouting.
“Federal agents! Stay where you are!”
My blood ran cold.
Gatsby moved fast then, closing the distance just enough to grab my arm, grounding me for half a second as his gaze locked onto mine, something intense and controlled and there passing between us in that one look.
“You’re okay?” he asked, quickly.