Chapter 6 Asher #2
"You let him die on his terms. In control of his ending. Not strapped to a table in some facility, not bleeding out alone in the dark." Jinx's voice is getting weaker, but his eyes never leave mine. "You gave him a choice. In our world, that's a gift. That's the best any of us can hope for."
"It's not enough."
"It never is." His hand falls from my face, the effort too much. "But it's what we've got. And Dom knew that. He made his choice knowing the odds. Don't dishonor that by pretending he was a victim. He was a soldier. He died like one."
I want to argue. Want to scream that nobility and choice don't mean shit when you're bleeding out in a sewer, that I should have stayed, should have found another way, should have done anything other than walk away.
But Jinx is dying too. Right here, right now, in a maintenance shed surrounded by rat shit and failed rescue attempts.
If I fall apart, if I let the grief consume me, I'll lose him too.
I can't lose them both.
Not tonight.
"We need to move." I wipe my face, force the soldier back into place. "Jagger, what's our exit?"
The comm crackles. "South fence. Hole cut at grid reference seven. I've got the van moving to intercept. Five minutes."
"Copy. We're moving."
Marlee is already hauling Thiago up, his arm over her shoulders, his weight heavy against her side. I turn to Jinx, slide my arms under his knees and behind his back.
"This is going to hurt."
"Everything hurts. Just do it."
I lift him. He bites back a scream, his body going rigid, fresh blood seeping through the bandages. His head falls against my shoulder, and his breath is hot and wet against my neck.
"Stay with me," I tell him. "You hear me? Stay with me."
"Trying."
"Try harder."
We move out. Through the shed door, across the grounds, toward the south fence.
Marlee leads with Thiago, her rifle up despite the weight she's carrying.
Behind us, sirens wail and searchlights sweep the darkness.
The facility is in full lockdown now, guards swarming, vehicles mobilizing, helicopters spinning up in the distance.
We're running out of time.
Jinx is heavy in my arms. Dead weight. His head lolls against my shoulder, and his breathing is so shallow now that I have to concentrate to feel his chest rise and fall. The blood from his wound soaks into my shirt, warm and wet, a constant reminder of what's at stake.
"Stay with me," I mutter against his hair. "Almost there. Stay with me."
He doesn't respond.
The fence comes into view. The hole Jagger mentioned is there, just wide enough for us to squeeze through. On the other side, headlights cut through the darkness. The van. Safety. Escape.
Fifty meters.
Forty.
Thirty.
"Go!" I shout at Marlee. "Get Thiago through!"
She doesn't argue. Just shoves through the gap, dragging Thiago with her, the razor wire catching on their clothes and drawing thin lines of blood. The van door slides open. Jonah's face appears in the gap, pale and terrified, hands reaching out to pull them in.
Twenty meters.
A shout behind me. Guards, closing fast. Muzzle flashes in the darkness. Bullets whining past my head, chewing up the ground at my feet.
I run faster. My lungs scream. My legs burn. Jinx's weight drags at my arms, but I don't slow down. Can't slow down.
The fence. The gap.
My turn.
The hole is too small for me to carry Jinx through. I'll have to set him down, push him through first, then follow.
"Jinx." My voice comes out ragged. "I'm going to—"
"I know." His hand fists in my shirt, weakly. "Don't let go."
"Never."
I lower him to the ground as gently as I can. His face contorts with pain, but he doesn't make a sound. Just grits his teeth and starts crawling through the gap, his wounded side scraping against concrete and metal. Blood smears across the ground. A trail of red marking his passage.
Gunfire intensifies. A bullet clips my shoulder, a hot line of pain that I barely register. The guards are close now, twenty meters and closing.
"Move!" Jagger's voice in my ear. "Move now!"
Jinx is through. Hands grab him, drag him toward the van. Jace's face appears in the gap, his gray eyes cold and lethal, a rifle in his hands. He opens fire over my head, laying down cover as I drop to my stomach and crawl after Jinx.
The razor wire tears at my back, my arms, my scalp. Blood runs into my eyes. Pain screams through every nerve. But I keep moving, dragging myself forward inch by inch, until hands grab my vest and haul me through.
The van door slides shut. Tires squeal against pavement.
And we're gone.
The facility shrinks in the rearview mirror. Behind us, guards cluster at the fence, their shouts fading into the distance. We made it. We're alive.
Some of us.
I look down at Jinx, cradled in my lap, his blood soaking into my pants. His eyes are closed, his breathing shallow, his heartbeat a faint flutter against my palm where I press it to his chest.
"Don't you dare," I whisper. "Don't you fucking dare leave me."
He doesn't respond.
Jace is driving, pushing the van hard, taking corners at speeds that make the tires scream. Jonah is in the passenger seat, speaking rapidly into a phone, coordinating something. Marlee has Thiago's head in her lap, her hands pressing a fresh bandage to his shoulder wound.
And Elliot.
Elliot is beside me, medical kit open, hands moving with practiced efficiency.
"I need to see the wound," he says. His voice is calm. Too calm. The calm of someone who has seen too much death to let it shake him anymore.
“Thought you were staying at the house.” I move my hand. Elliot peels back the blood-soaked bandages and examines the damage.
“Stowed away in the other truck. Couldn’t wait at home while you all were here.” His face doesn't change as he examines Jinx. But his eyes flicker to mine, and the truth is written there, plain as day.
It's bad. It's very bad.
"He needs a hospital," I say.
"He needs a surgeon." Elliot is already working, packing the wound with fresh gauze, applying pressure. "I can keep him stable for maybe an hour. After that..."
He doesn't finish. He doesn't have to.
Across the van, Marlee's eyes meet mine. Grief and exhaustion and the hollow weight of loss.
Dom is dead.
Jinx might be dying.
And all I can do is hold on and pray that for once, something works out in my favor.