Chapter 35 #2
I feel my legs straighten, rigid like hardened steel, my wrath plunging to depths I’ve never charted, a place where no mercy exists.
Xavier is gasping for air, each breath a ragged, violent struggle—and all I can focus on is that he’s still alive, too consumed by the need for revenge to acknowledge the pain they’ve inflicted on him.
My legs are moving before I’ve even devised a plan, my gaze fixed on my father as I scale the steps, knowing I have just seconds to make count.
I’ve never moved so fluidly, as if I were made to be this.
A cold-blooded monster in the dark, stabbing unaware guards before they have a chance to scream.
It all happens in the shadows as I find myself sprawled on the last step, my leather belt lodged against a soldier’s neck.
My boot is still digging into the railing when my hands catch up with my brain as if I’m coming in and out of consciousness.
He’s dead. You can let go.
But I’m pinned beneath him. Blood seeps onto my clothes as I shove him aside with a weak grunt, digging my hand into a painful spot in my ribs to alleviate the pain. I can’t stop.
One shot. You have one shot, Sophie.
Make it count.
Before someone notices the massacre I’ve waged above our heads, I cross the room, eyes locked on the back of my father’s skull. That balding crown that houses absolute atrocities .
The bastard who held me down by my throat, robbing all of the oxygen from my body. That beat me whenever he felt like it, whenever I failed to obey him. That killed my family and discarded me for worse than dead.
My footsteps carve my path with lethal silence, drowned out by the storm lashing the metal roof.
For me, there is no one else here but the man who brought me into this life to sell me to the highest bidder.
A man incapable of remorse, driven by a thirst for power so intense that he fails to notice when death creeps up behind him.
Vito’s blocking my line of sight to Xavier, but the guard at the south door catches a glimpse as I emerge into the light .
His eyes widen in shock as if he has encountered a surreal illusion, struggling to comprehend the sight of a vengeful woman drenched in the blood of his comrades.
When I lift the gun, aiming across the room at the guard, squeezing the Micarta handle of the fighting knife in my other hand, I'm nearly smiling, driven mad by the sick need to make Vito Marin pay.
I couldn’t do it a few hours ago, but I can now.
“Boss—”
One chance.
My gun fires, and at the same moment, I’m pressed up tightly to my father’s back, my eyes locked on the veins throbbing ominously in his thick throat while he works another screw into Xavier’s undamaged hand.
I poise to strike, the crushing weight of those he’s ruined bearing down heavily on my shoulders.
My father notices the guard slumping in the corner, gasping, but before he can turn, I'm ramming the blade through the side of his throat, feeling it dislodge his esophagus, met with extreme resistance.
A surge of strength pushes through my veins as I urge the knife deeper, deeper, deeper—as far as it can fucking go.
Grabbing the handle when I release it, choking gruesomely on blood pooling and spilling from his mouth, he manages to turn enough to be met with my brutal gaze. He must see the excitement burning in my eyes as I watch him try to remove it, stumbling back and forth.
You’ll never be happy.
The taunting words he said to me last night echo in my pounding ears. When he ousts the blade, his arteries spray, and I'm not willing to move out of the way, to miss a single moment. I want him to know who did this. I want to destroy him like he tried to destroy me.
He collapses at the edge of the conveyor belt, revealing his murderer to my husband .
Xavier’s eyes, glazed from pain, swarm with horror. “ No .”
Now that I’ve come this far and lost myself this exquisitely to something wholly evil, it’s hard to come to terms with the fact that the man in front of me isn’t one to kill.
I’m shaking, desperate to hurt, my eyes fixed on the corpse of my father at my heels.
The seams within me have stretched too far.
I’m drowning, flailing toward a shrinking beam of light. Through the abyss of my mind, the only voice capable of navigating the darkness with me wrenches me from the depths.
“Don’t let it in.”
The simple words deliver a staggering blow.
Don’t let it in.
I know what Xavier’s uncovering because I’ve rescued him from this void before. My vision sharpens as I reach the edge of the belt he’s fastened to. I'm gasping for words, overcome by the sight of him, as I lay my face against his chest.
“ Xavier .”
“Sophie, you… You need to leave. Right now.” A sudden bang makes us flinch as we search for the source of the noise. “Listen to me. They’ll find you. They’ll hurt you worse than this. Please!”
My hands tremble uncontrollably as the steady numbness that once provided me comfort slips away, replaced by a rising panic. Untangling the straps on his wrists is an insurmountable challenge, wrapping tighter with every breath I take.
“H-How do I do this?” I stammer.
Xavier’s skin is ashen, and his lips quiver as if he’s about to be sick. All of his fingers are curled in agony, the corkscrew half-embedded in his palm. “Fuck, Sophie. Please . Please don’t make me beg.”
I remove a knife from my vest, slicing it into the resilient leather. “I can’t get them open.”
He hums softly to keep himself from screaming at me. I know it and I don’t care. I’ve barely made a dent. Throwing that knife onto the belt, I reach for the one covered in blood on the ground beside my father, exhaling when it parts the resistant material.
When the first bond is broken, I seize Xavier’s face, forcing him to look at me.
“I'm not leaving. I will never leave you.”
Any fight he was about to unleash fades from his lips. He’s shuddering, unable to handle the touch of tenderness after so much hatred. I know the feeling well.
Because it’s the truth, I finish with, “They will kill me at your feet before I let them take you.”
Xavier gazes at my face as I snap the other hand restraint, visibly struggling to accept that I don’t intend for us to die today. He had accepted it as I did, and finding the will again is nearly impossible.
“Isabella is safe. She’s on a plane with Bo. I watched them leave,” I say, because I know he needs to hear it.
Xavier closes his eyes, his bruised jawbone tensing. That piece of news is what drives him to push up, grabbing the winding screw with the hand that had already been drilled into. Before I can stop him, he’s dragging the metal out of his flesh, baring his teeth in pain.
I can’t look, carving the restraints on his ankles. It’s only a matter of time before a body is found. Or someone seeks out my father. We need to hurry.
“Is it clear… the way back?”
“If they haven’t found the bodies, then yes. I can get us out the way I came, but it’s far.”
A gasp leaves me when I free the final restraint, giving him room to push off the slab.
Blood is dripping from his hands onto the floor.
Physically swaying, I fear he won’t be able to make it, but we have no choice.
Xavier takes the gun I slip into his grasp.
Panic surges as we sprint toward the stairs, already halfway there, when a deafening alarm devastates the silence, blasting through the air.
They pulled the fire alarm. They found the bodies.
All we can do is run. Run for our lives, bolting past the corpses I waged war upon in the break room.
The collected rage I had coming in is gone now that I'm no longer alone.
I'm anticipating the storm of bullets, bracing for something to go wrong. We’re in the clear until we close the door behind us.
Heavy footsteps are marching from the lower levels.
I shake my head. “They’re coming this way. Turn back!”
There’s no chance. They are coming from above, too.
Xavier moves first—choosing the intimidating way down—pushing me behind him. “I’ll cover you. Watch your back.”
It takes a few seconds before Xavier fires a shot, blocking the carnage with his broad shoulders.
All I can think is that we have to get off these stairs.
They’re going to surround us right in the middle.
While Xavier clears the way down, I crouch behind a railing, aiming at the empty flight of stairs above us.
When two men fall into my line of sight, I aim at one throat and shoot, losing my footing as the second man tackles me onto the steps.
The gun skids across the stairs, almost tumbling through the concrete slab.
His fist slams into my mouth, knocking the breath from my lungs. Fuck .
A sharp ringing in my ears renders me immobile.
The soldier is powerful and relentless, striking again and again.
Blow after blow. So engrossed in the violence that he doesn’t notice my hand slipping into my holster, removing a knife to drive into his side.
At the impact, he stalls out, and while he’s contemplating how to remove it, I scramble down the steps for the gun, turning it on him before he can catch up.
The blood is rushing to my face, but I'm on my feet, pushing past the throbbing, faintly hearing Xavier bellowing my name from below.
After rushing down a few flights, I'm reloading behind his back, losing bullets from my fingers as I load the cartridge as quickly as I can. As if we’d done this before, I extend the gun to him while he hands me an empty one.
While Xavier carves our path, I reload the second gun, knowing that we have a long way to go.
Arriving at the bottom, Xavier wastes no time hurdling me over the bodies obstructing the final steps. We burst into the desolate apartment building, hearing the frantic shouts of men near the docks, warning others of our escape.
When the doors shut, the light vanishes with it.
“Shit,” Xavier gasps.
“Just follow me.”