Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
Jackson
As I step into the room, the smoke punches my lungs. With each breath, they burn, but the pain doesn’t matter. If anything, it pushes me to get to her quicker.
Where is she?
You caused this.
You lose everything you touch.
“Madelyn,” I call, though my voice sounds wrong in my own ears. It’s too soft, too hopeful for a man built out of fractures.
The hallway writhes in the firelight. The paint on the wall blisters and bubbles, creating patterns of taunting faces. As the house breathes around me, exhaling smoke, it inhales my emotions. Then the unmistakable sound of metal pulling against metal rises to my ears.
She is chained.
Chained means she can’t run.
Chained means she still needs me.
My heart hammers, not out of fear, but because I know this is the last time she will ever be away from me. I follow the noise while my feet shuffle against dead corpses. With every step, maggots appear and stick to my boots. The smell of decay is so strong, even I fight the urge not to gag.
My eyes track the floor, searching. “Make noise for me, baby,” I say, while letting new words slip out.
Metal clicks again, signaling she’s close. “That’s it.” It only takes a couple more steps to find her.
Madelyn. My Madelyn, banging her imprisoned wrists against the cold floor. Smoke curls around her like a veil. Her eyes snap open at the sight of me, full of terror and relief and something I can’t name but want to devour whole.
“Jackson,” she rasped. “Please… help me.”
God, even her desperation is beautiful.
I drop to my knees, breath shuddering, “Madelyn.” I touch the chain, then her cheek, then the chain again, because I can’t decide which part of this angers me more—the idea of losing her or the part of me that knows my brother did this.
“Holy shit, you did fucking come,” says a voice that is nothing like Madelyn.
My eyes snap toward the direction of a very malnourished woman, whom I can only guess is the clerk’s girlfriend.
She hobbles toward Madelyn with a pair of bolt cutters, covered in blood and guts and shit that looks straight out of one of my paintings.
I let go of the chain, eyes narrowing. “Your name?” I ask for research purposes. When she dies here, I’ll have a name to go with her missing person report.
The woman holds the bolt cutters up like she’s thinking about swiping me with it. “Amelia?” She answers, uncertain.
Madelyn’s voice cracks. “Jackson, you have to focus. You’re the only one who can get me out.”
A beam overhead groans, sending embers raining down like dying stars. Madelyn and Amelia both flinch. I don’t.
Inside my skull, something sharp twists.
She needs you.
She needs you more like this.
She won’t leave if she can’t stand.
I shake the thought off—mostly.
“I won’t let the fire take you,” I say. My voice feels steadier than my mind. “I won’t let anything take you again.”
I snatch the bolt cutters from Amelia with ease and attach them to the chain. My hand grips the handle and squeezes. Almost immediately, the cutters snap in two; the pieces dropping to the floor. Madelyn cries out, her desperation fueling something inside me. “Fuck!”
I wrap both hands around the chain. Heat bites into my palms, but the pain anchors me, reminding me she is the love of my life.
She tugs weakly at the chain. “Please.”
Her begging only fuels me. It makes me grit my teeth. It makes me pull harder. “You think I’m going to leave you here?” I growl. “No. No, Little Fire. I came for you. I’ll always come for you.”
Another pull.
Another.
The metal screams.
Above us the ceiling sags dangerously, but even if the entire house collapses, I know I’d still be trying to rip her free. I’d dig her out of the rubble with my bare hands if I had to. I’d tear apart the world if it got between us.
“Jackson,” she whispers, eyes shining in the firelight. “Don’t let go.”
And I don’t. Not of the chain. Not of her. Not of the darkness that tells me she is the only thing keeping me alive and the only thing I will burn for.
I can feel her breath on the back of my neck as I brace myself—steady, trembling, trusting. The fire roars, getting closer every second, but all I hear is her. All I need is her.
My hands tighten around the bolt that’s holding the chain to the floor. The metal is scorching, biting into my palms, but the pain sharpens me and pulls every fractured piece of me into one single purpose.
Save her.
The ceiling above groans again. Dust drifts down like gray snow. The fire’s heat presses against my back, urging me to hurry, to panic, to run. But I’m not leaving without her.
I set my feet, inhale the thick, smoky air, and pull with everything I have. Every ounce of fear, every thread of love, every jagged scrap of madness stitched together into one brutal effort.
The chain strains. Screams. So do my muscles.
“Come on,” I growl, voice cracking. “She’s mine. Come on.”
Madelyn’s fingers curl weakly around the back of my shirt. Even chained, even terrified, she is holding on to me. Holding for me.
Something inside me snaps at that. It’s not in a break, but in a surge.
A refusal.
A promise.
A vow I didn’t need words for.
I roar and wrench the bolt with all the strength I have left. The metal bends, just a hair at first, then suddenly gives with a shrill metallic crack that echoes through the burning house. The chain slacks. Madelyn and Amelia both gasp in unison.
I stagger back, breathless, staring at the freed chain in my hands like I have torn open the world itself. Then I drop it and rush to her, fingers trembling as I pull her into my arms.
She collapses against me, clutching at my shirt, burying her face in my shoulder like she’s been waiting her whole life for this exact moment.
“You’re safe,” I murmur into her hair, voice shaking with relief and something far darker. “You’ll never be away from me again.”
She looks up at me, eyes shining through smoke and fear. “I know I won’t.”
Her trust hits me harder than the fire’s heat. I cup her face and kiss her forehead as flames lick the inside of the wall.
“I've got to take care of something,” I whisper, knowing I can’t risk any more loose ends.
Madelyn shakes her head while pulling away from me. “No. She’s…coming,” she tries to say, but coughing cuts her off.
I take a quick glance at another one of my brother’s victims. Amelia now has her arms wrapped around herself, head bobbing. Obviously, it would be very easy to leave her to the fire. She’s about gone already. Too weak, I’m assuming to do anything else.
“Package… deal,” Madelyn states, voice weak, while wrapping her arm around Amelia. She stares into me with pleading eyes. “Promised.”
It’s not safe. Her knowing what really happened. I want to remind Madelyn of the consequences when people snitch, but we are running out of time. The fire itches closer with each passing minute. Any longer, we will all die.
I nod, temporarily admitting defeat. I’ll get her out of the house.
That doesn’t mean I won’t kill her later.
Madelyn smiles weakly and extends a trembling arm.
I lift her to her feet, gathering her against my side as the house groans around us.
With my other hand, I snatch Amelia by the collar and pull her against my other side.
“Let’s go,” I say. “I’m getting you out of this hell.”
But the truth burns deeper than the fire: I will follow her into any hell in the world. And drag her back out every time.