Chapter 25 #2
Vincent sighs, watching our silent conversation.
“But as much as I’d enjoy it, Greer has forbidden me from entertaining any ideas tonight.
She has, though, however, asked me to inform you, Florence Belcher, that you have two days.
” I stare blankly, faking a yawn that I can’t even reach to cover.
“Make it right with whomever you pray to girl.” He adds.
I huff a laugh. “God have mercy on your soul,” I spit dryly out to the floor. Jonathan growls beside him, his arms tightening against his chest. Vincent raises his hand, silencing him.
I laugh coldly. “Unless you’re here for home improvement,” —I gesture to my cell— “then you better go listen to your master.”
Vincent’s grip tightens around the cane, then he knocks it against Jonothan’s arm, directing him back to the door.
But Johnathan whirls at the last second, lunging for the bars. They clang loudly as he slams into them, fingers snatching the connected chains and pulling them tight. My feet lift as the air is sucked from my lungs.
Johnathan’s face tightens. “You little?— “
I thrash against my shackles, thinking I can somehow pull myself free and wrap these restraints around his?—.
“Enough,” Vincent snaps.
On command, Jonathan releases me so suddenly that I stumble backward enough that the chains in front of me snap me right back into place.
Vincent simply adjusts the cuffs of his suit. “Such a waste of resources.”
Their footsteps fade and the light flickers back out leaving us in the dark again. I wait, listening for any possible newcomers. Kova stands guarded at her own entrance, as if daring them to come back.
I lower myself as much as my collar will allow, the pressure immediately flushing my face red, and stretch my foot as far as possible until my toe reaches the edge of the tray. I calculate the distance, swinging my leg gently and kick it beneath the barrier.
“Don’t worry about them. Eat.” I breathe shallowly.
Kova’s hackles raise, but she listens, her nails clicking as she wearily paws over. I let out a shaky breath, watching her lower her muzzle to the tray. Good. One of us is eating. The thought should be funny, but instead it leaves a lump in my throat.
I rest my eyes, focusing on my breathing as anxiety crawls through every inch of my nervous system.
My mind drifts before I can stop it. Jasper would probably be talking me through it right now, attempting to soothe me while in distress.
He would’ve fought off every one of them.
I know he would have. But I can also picture his face seeing me like this.
The hesitation in it. Just another weight added to the hurt he sees so clearly inside.
Nyx on the other hand—I think Nyx would have let me have my fun with a few of them, making them regret even entering this building.
Then, he would’ve burnt the warehouse to the ground at the sight of this collar.
He would have wrapped it around every one of their throats and made an example out of them.
A small laugh audibly escapes me at the thought of it. I’m going insane already.
The hair on Kova’s back rises at the sound of it.
After a minute, her tongue darts out again, testing the questionable contents of my so-called supper.
It must check out okay, though, because she doesn’t hesitate to dig in.
Her focus darts constantly from the door to her tray, and every so often, she tosses me a glance.
I stand perfectly still, not wanting to distract her.
It doesn’t take her long though to finish, as there wasn’t much there to begin with.
Kova returns to her corner, lapping at the corners of her snout to clean her muzzle.
At least she’s eating. Although she is abnormally large wolf, I can still make out the outline of her ribs from starvation.
How any human could do such a thing to these magnificent animals is beyond me.
A blood-curdling scream rings through the warehouse.
“Help me, please!” the voice cries. I can’t tell where it’s coming from; I don’t have a view beyond the bars other than the rolling door.
The screaming turns thick, the person choking as snarls and roars bounce off the walls. Kova isn’t the only wolf here.
“Hello?” I yell, straining to listen.
“Please!” the voice chokes out again. Another scream hurdles through the air, causing my own cry to escape my lips from the sound of torture.
“I’m here! I’m here with you!” I yell again.
Kova paces, whimpering and pausing to listen as if mimicking me. A final cry breaks through the warehouse, suddenly silenced with a sharp bark. Nothing. No voices, no growling.
What just happened? I grip my restraints beneath me. Kova’s head droops, her small cry filling our cell. What did Jett say about her? “Purposes.” That’s what he said. But what… no. It can’t be. That can’t be what I just heard. I jolt back as far as I can, my breathing now labored.
I struggle, digging my nails tightly into my palms. I squeeze and release repeatedly, hoping this is all some crazy dream.
They can’t really be feeding people to these wolves.
I gasp. The disappearances. It can’t be them.
Is it? “Ugh!” I roar, rushing forward against the collar.
The pain isn’t enough to silence the echo in my head.
I lunge again, screaming. Kova barks as I jerk again.
A sharp sting shoots up my neck, a blinding green streak splitting my vision.
I groan, sinking into the collar. How did I even wind up in this mess?
Over a freaking title? Shame floods my chest. A title I was so worked up over a few days ago…
Nyx was right. I hate that my mind goes to him. And I hate it even more that it helps.
I didn’t need it. I just wanted control over some aspect of my life. And I pridefully caused an uproar over it. But it still shouldn’t have come to this. Revenge is slashing someone’s tires, not taking someone’s life. Especially in this way.
“God, please.” I whisper, my breath clouding in the open. It’s not Devin’s words invading my mind right now. It’s my own. And somehow, they hurt worse.
“Jesus, do you even see me right now? Do you hear me?” I suck in a sharp breath, biting my lip to fight back the emotion coursing through me.
Who am I when I lay the shield down? I guess I’ve never really had to face that until now.
I’m Florence. A mother. A friend. A leader.
An agent. All the things I’ve ever dreamed of being blanketed by my own guarded heart.
Instincts that have needed to be laid to rest long before now.
But it feels too late. As I stand here with Kova, the only one able to witness my consciousness.
Well, to my own delusion she is. If this truly is it for me, then I’ll meet death standing, not kneeling.
If they want me, then they’ll get exactly that. Me.
I don’t open my eyes as the warehouse door creaks open. I know the footsteps. The ones that have been treading lightly.
The chains shift as I adjust my weight, the collar digging deeper into my throat.
At some point, it will catch a vein. I ignore it, keeping my eyes wound shut.
A part of me doesn’t want him to see me like this.
The other part does. Kova lifts her head in her own cage but doesn’t make a sound.
Even she’s beginning to recognize him. Silence settles over the warehouse as the footsteps abruptly stop.
Then I hear it. A sharp inhale, with a few staggering steps backward.
A strangled sound that doesn’t belong in Jett Harlan’s body. My eyes remain closed.
Another breath breaks the silence, followed by a hollow one. Like he’s trying desperately to keep himself together. The realization hits me slowly. Jett’s crying. Silent broken breaths in the darkness. A flash explodes against my eyelids. Gone just as quickly as it appears.
I let out a slow breath. “They say pictures last longer than the real thing,” I mutter. I barely sound like me anymore. “I hope that’s true.”
My restraints echo through the warehouse as I lift my head.
Dried blood cracks beneath the collar. Jett stands just beyond the cage, a silhouette against the dim light of the moon, hovering near the bar.
Phone still raised in his hand. His shoulders are tense and rigid as his feet shift, like he’s one bad second away from breaking something.
“It’s a burner phone,” he says, voice cracking. Jett clears his throat and tries again. “It’s a burner phone. I’m sending this to Scott immediately.” His jaw tightens. “I’m getting you out of here, Florence.” Jett steps closer, pocketing the burner. “I’m trying.”
I laugh weakly, lowering my head. “Why bother at this point?” The words slip out before I can stop them. Before I can pretend I’m stronger than I feel.
For a moment, Jett doesn’t answer. The warehouse falls silent. Kova whimpers once as Jett’s boots scrub the concrete. “That does not sound like the Florence Belcher I know.”
I force myself to look up. “Do I look like the Florence Belcher you know? Does the Red Earth Directive Unit even still have eyes to look, too?” The words come out low as I stare at him.
Jett’s eyes shine, even in the dark. Anger and grief swirling within them. “You don’t get to quit.” He snaps. Not a command. But a promise.
I blankly stare at him, unable to say more.
Jett crouches in front of the cage, his fingers tracing the cylinder bars. “You hear me, Vanguard?” he says, voice shaking. “They’re coming.”
The chains shift as I swallow. Somewhere deep inside me, beneath the pain and exhaustion, a tiny spark flickers. Because Jett isn’t the kind of man who makes promises he can’t keep. And if Jett says Greyline is coming, then somewhere out there, they’re already on their way.