Chapter 20 Evangeline #2
The beating stops as abruptly as it started. I'm dizzy, nauseous, every inch of my body screaming with pain. But I'm alive. And I'm still looking at Hades.
"Enough," one of the Hawks says. "Boss is calling. He wants an update."
They file out, leaving just one guard behind. He leans against the wall, looking bored, like watching prisoners suffer is just another Tuesday.
This is our chance. Maybe our only chance.
I start counting breaths, forcing myself to think through the pain. The guard is distracted, checking his phone. Ethan and the others are outside, arguing about something.
The ropes around my wrists are looser now, slick with blood. If I can just...
I twist my hands, ignoring the agony as the rough fibers tear into already-raw skin. There's a nail head protruding from the wooden chair arm, rusty and sharp. If I can angle my wrists just right...
"What are you doing?" Hades whispers.
"Getting us out of here."
"Angel, don't. If they catch you—"
"Then we're no worse off than we are now."
I work at the ropes with single-minded determination. Every movement sends fresh pain lancing up my arms, but I don't stop. Can't stop.
You've got this, Evie. For the kids. For him. For yourself.
The ropes give slightly. Then more. My thumb might be dislocated, but the extra flexibility helps me slip one hand free.
Then the other.
I'm free.
The guard still hasn't noticed, too absorbed in whatever's on his phone. I slide off the chair as quietly as I can, every muscle protesting.
Hades watches me with wide eyes as I crawl toward him. His chains are more substantial than my ropes were, but the locks are old and corroded.
"You need to run," he whispers urgently. "Get out of here while you can."
"We walk out together or not at all."
"Evangeline—"
"No. I'm not leaving you." My fingers, slippery with blood, work at the lock. "You've spent your whole life protecting people. Let me protect you for once."
"I don't need—"
"Yes, you do. Everyone needs someone, Ronan. Even you."
The lock gives with a click that sounds impossibly loud in the quiet room. The guard looks up from his phone, realizing too late what's happening.
Hades is out of the chair before I can blink, moving with the fluid violence of a predator unleashed. He grabs a metal pipe from the corner, and the guard goes down without making a sound.
"Can you walk?" Hades asks, pulling me to my feet.
"I can run if I have to."
"Good. Because we need to move. Now."
But footsteps echo from outside, multiple sets, getting closer. We're out of time.
Hades positions himself between me and the door, pipe ready, every line of his body screaming violence barely contained.
"Stay behind me," he orders.
"Like hell."
I grab a piece of broken concrete, weighing it in my hand. It's not much, but it's something.
"Angel—"
"We do this together."
The door bursts open, revealing four Shadow Hawks expecting to find us still restrained, still helpless.
Instead, they find us ready.
Hades moves like lightning, taking down the first Hawk before he can react. I swing my concrete chunk at the second, catching him in the temple with a sickening crack.
The third Hawk pulls a gun, and time seems to slow. I see his finger tightening on the trigger, see the barrel aimed at Hades' chest.
I don't think. I just move.
I throw myself in front of Hades, using my body as a shield, trusting that he'll finish this fight because I might not be able to.
The gun goes off, the sound deafening in the enclosed space.
But I don't feel any pain. Don't feel the impact I was bracing for.
Hades' arm is around my waist, pulling me down and sideways. The bullet goes wide, embedding itself in the concrete wall.
The haze lifts like smoke after an explosion, slow and stinging, impossible to breathe through. The world comes back in fragments; buzzing fluorescent lights overhead, the rancid smell of sweat and blood, the pressure of something sharp digging into my hip.
Then I hear it.
Crunch. Bone and cartilage splitting under force.
I lift my head, just barely, and see him.
Hades.
Blood coats his knuckles. His jaw is clenched tight, eyes empty and locked in. One of the Shadow Hawks lies twitching on the floor, convulsing like a downed wire. Another one already isn’t moving, his neck at an impossible angle, face pulped and smeared with the tread of boots.
Hades doesn’t slow. He moves like a machine. Precise, brutal. The last Hawk still standing fumbles for a weapon, raising a hand too slow.
Hades steps in.
He grabs the man’s wrist and twists. There's a sickening pop as tendons give and bones slip. The gun drops to the floor. Hades doesn’t even look at it. He drives his elbow straight into the man’s throat. The Hawk stumbles back, gagging and gasping, wide-eyed.
Hades closes the distance and grabs the back of his head.
He slams it into the concrete wall. The crack of impact is sharp, wet, like a hammer into a watermelon.
The man starts to collapse, but Hades hauls him upright by his hair and does it again.
The sound is worse this time. Something inside splits.
The man goes limp.
Hades lets him fall.
And then he turns to me, breathing hard, chest rising and falling like a warhorse just off the battlefield.
“Can you walk?”
“I think so,” I whisper, pushing up onto shaking hands. My muscles scream but I grit my teeth and keep moving. The drugs are still clinging to the edges of my senses, but seeing him, watching what he just did to the ones who had me, there’s something steadying in it. Anchoring.
He crosses the room fast and grabs my elbow, steady but gentle. His other hand is still slick with blood.
“We’re going now,” he says. “More are coming.”
No time for questions. I nod, and we run out of the room, down a hallway and toward what I hope is an exit.
Behind us, I hear shouting. Ethan's voice, screaming orders. More footsteps, more threats.
But we don't stop. Can't stop.
We burst out into the night air, and I've never been so grateful to see stars. The warehouse is in the industrial district, abandoned buildings stretching in every direction.
Hades pulls me into the shadows between buildings, and we pause to catch our breath. He's bleeding from a dozen wounds, his face a mask of blood and bruises.
I probably look worse.
"You saved me," he says, his voice rough with emotion.
"You taught me how."
Sirens wail in the distance, getting closer. Someone must have called the police when they heard the gunshot.
"We need to get clear before they arrive," Hades says. "My brothers will handle the cleanup, but we can't be here when the cops show up."
"Can you make it?"
"Can you?"
"Together, remember?"
He pulls me close, his hand steady at the back of my neck, and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Together.”
No promises. No speeches. Just that one word. And it’s enough.
I used to think he was the one who did the saving. The one who stood between me and everything dangerous.
But tonight, I didn’t wait for rescue.
Tonight, I fought beside him.
And we’re getting out.