Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Emilia
Emilia?” Claudia’s voice is distant, almost like I’m imagining it. I stare across the room at the silly little houseplant Heidi bought for me last month. It’s starting to wilt. I should water it.
I don’t move.
Ever since Zac and Kayla were dragged away, it’s like something inside me has cracked, frozen in time. I remember Jordan’s arms around me, the sound of blood in my ears, and being lifted off the floor. The next thing I knew, I was here.
Home.
Without him.
“You should eat something,” Claudia murmurs as she crouches beside the armchair. Unwrapping something, she holds it towards me. I blink at the half-eaten packet of biscuits, my brain slowly registering what they are.
These are all he ever snacks on. Usually, I barely even get two before the entire packet is gone.
“I should save these for when Zac comes home,” I manage, voice hoarser than I expect it to be.
“Emilia—”
“I’m saving them.”
Claudia hesitates, her eyes on the packet. “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”
Her words slice through the haze, sharp enough that I look up. Jordan, Heidi, Rayden, Sam; all of them are staring at me like they don’t know what to do, or what to say.
“He might be,” I say quickly, louder, stronger, certain.
“Mils…” Heidi steps forward, dropping to her knees beside Claudia, her hand reaching for mine.
No.
If she touches me, I’ll shatter.
I shove the biscuits back into Claudia’s hands, and push myself out of the armchair, legs unsteady.
“Can you wake me when they return?”
Heidi opens her mouth to reply, but Sam’s hand appears on her shoulder, gently tugging her back.
Their pity, their worry… it’s unbearable.
I tear my gaze away and head past them all, hauling myself up the stairs, each step heavier than the last.
My hand shakes as I close the bedroom door, shutting myself away. On autopilot, I tug on my loose red pyjamas before slipping under the covers. The dim glow of the fading sun pours through the window, but I don’t have it in me to close the curtains.
Only thirteen hours ago, Zac sat right here. Promising to tell me the truth.
He’ll be back. They’ll let him go. They have to.
Maybe they’ll keep them in The Cell for a few hours, then send them back by sunrise. He’ll wake me, both annoyed and smug that I cried, and growl about how reckless I was to throw myself at the Enforcers. A liability, he’ll say. Utterly stupid for ignoring every ounce of training he’s given me.
The thought strengthens every inch of me. Keeps me from breaking.
I close my eyes.
They’ll be back by sunrise. They have to be.
And with that lie calming every ounce of my being, I drift into a restless, hollow sleep.
“Mils?”
The voice inches towards me, soft and uncertain, followed by a gentle shake.
“Heidi?” My voice cracks. I blink at the glare of the morning sun, still wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. For a heartbeat, I don’t move. My eyes fall on the empty space beside her.
Reality slams into me.
“Where is he?”
Heidi’s lips part. “He’s not back yet, Mils. Rayden and Jordan have gone to the courthouse to see if they can find out what’s happening.”
“Rayden?” My voice is barely a whisper.
“Yeah.” She gives a small, tired smile. “He hasn’t left the house all night. None of us have.”
I sit up slowly, the blankets falling to my lap, hands clutching at the fabric just to keep me grounded. “You don’t have to stay here with me,” I murmur, not meeting her eyes.
“Yes, we do,” she replies instantly. “We’re your friends. Kayla’s friends.” She hesitates, then adds, “Zac’s friends.” My gaze lift to hers, my brows lifting, and she gives a small shrug. “Some of us are, anyway.”
A broken laugh escapes me.
I didn’t see this coming; I never thought anyone would actually report Kayla and Zac over something so… small. A mistake. She wasn’t in her right mind, and he didn’t know what was happening.
They aren’t the only ones to act out, or kiss someone who they weren’t supposed to, and yet they’ve been taken.
And now… now we have no idea how bad it’ll get.
The unmarried and married are kept separate. I don’t know what this equals punishment wise. For him. For them. For us. I don’t know if a disobedient spouse is ever allowed to come home.
My stomach twists as I spiral towards the darkest of thoughts. I have no idea what Germain is thinking. Even before all of this shit, I never thought she really understood the physics or biology she taught.
But cruelty?
She understands that perfectly.
A shiver wracks my spine. I’m terrified for Zac and Kayla.
And no matter how hard I try to banish the thoughts, or how desperately I try to channel the denial I clung onto last night, my mind won’t stop replaying the same images—Zac beaten bloody, Kayla sobbing, Zac’s wrists bound, Kayla kicked to the floor.
I just want him to walk through that door right now. I want him to roll his eyes at me, take one look at my tear-soaked face and scoff, calling me dramatic.
“It’ll be okay, Mils.” Heidi’s voice is soft, tethering me back to reality.
“I have to head to work soon.” She pauses, grimacing.
“There was an Enforcer here this morning.” My spine bolts with tension.
“She said you’re not expected at work today.
That you can have the day off to… take time to come to terms with what happened. ”
“With what happened?” I echo.
Heidi shifts on the bed. “The… infidelity.” Before I can answer, another voice interrupts.
“Heid?” Sam appears in the doorway, his brunette hair messy. He stops with a start at the sight of me sitting up. “Mils,” he says softly. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
“I’ll give you two a minute.” Heidi gives me a small smile before rising and slipping past her husband. Sam hesitates in the doorway.
“Mils…”
“Not now, Sam—”
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he blurts. “I never should have said—”
“No, you shouldn’t,” I snap.
“I know,” he says quickly, like he’s afraid I might throw him out. He sits on the end of the bed, eyes fixed on his hands as he wrings them together. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Me neither,” I mutter. My fingers toy with the stitching at the edge of the bedspread, and I stare at my lap.
“I was a dick.”
“Yeah. You were.”
“You’re entitled to do whatever you want, Mils. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise,” he says quietly.
I purse my lips, but don’t respond.
He reaches out, his hand covering my fingers on the hem. “Stop that,” he says softly. “I don’t want you to ever feel awkward with me.”
I glance up at him, brows tight.
“I just… want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I reply. “As happy as I can be, anyway.” He doesn’t answer, just looks at the way his hand covers mine. Silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable, until finally he relents.
“That’s good,” he says, tone careful. I scoff. “Really, Mils. I mean it!”
“Either way, it doesn’t matter anymore,” I murmur, staring down at our hands.
“Hey,” Sam chastises. His free hand grabs my chin, softly angling it up until I meet his gaze. “It does matter. I’m sorry, Mils. So sorry.” He pauses, frowning for a moment. “They’re not going to kill one of their precious husbands.”
“We don’t know that,” I say bitterly, shaking my head at his optimistic words. I expected Zac to be back by now. The longer he’s gone, the worse it is. There’s a weight on my chest, dragging my organs down to my stomach until I can barely breathe. I feel sick.
“This world—right here on this street—is their entire world,” Sam reminds me, sounding so sure of himself that I’m sure he actually believes what he’s saying. “Zac and Kayla are safe.”
“Doubt it,” I mutter.
“Mils?” Heidi returns, false smile and all. “I’ve made you some breakfast. Why don’t you get dressed and come down?”
I’m not hungry. The thought of food whilst Zac and Kayla undergo all manner of disgusting torture turns my stomach. But they’re not going to give up unless I eat something.
Sam pulls his hands back, looking unconvinced before offering me a tentative smile. “I really am sorry, Mils. I was so far over the line, I never should have said any of it…” he trails off, voice full of regret. He stands awkwardly, shifting his weight. “I’ll see you downstairs?”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
His hand rests at the base of Heidi’s spine, leading her away just before the door closes behind him, and I heave myself out of bed. I pull on the first things I find: my discarded blue jeans and crumpled cream hoodie.
By the time I reach the stairs, I already feel the weight of their eyes on me. The air grows heavier with each step.
“Here, Mils.” Heidi’s voice is bright as she appears at the foot of the stairs, thrusting a plate of toast under my nose before guiding me to the sofa.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
She smiles, quickly retreating into the kitchen where I can hear Sam’s voice. Claudia’s sitting on the armchair, quietly nibbling on her own slice. She looks up at me with a soft smile.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I tell her.
“That’s not why I’m here.” I lift my brow, unconvinced. “Zac’s my friend,” she says with a shrug. “It’s easier to get through this if we’re together.”
“I guess,” I murmur, looking back at the toast.
After a few minutes, Claudia clears her throat. Her tone is light with a hint of amusement as she asks, “Is Zac growing on you yet?”
“No,” I reply quickly before looking up at her knowing smirk. Something shifts in my chest, sharp and uneasy, catching me off guard. My stomach tightens. I never wanted this, never wanted to get attached or let anyone else close enough that shit like this would turn me into a fucking mess.
Zac... locked up.
My heart clenches, and I suck in a shaky breath.
Yeah—much to my annoyance, he’s grown on me. I don’t have time to dwell on how to deal with that fact.
My lips twitch. “Maybe.”
“I knew it.” Her grin widens. “You two will wear each other down eventually.”
“Mils? How is it?” Heidi appears in the doorway, looking expectantly, towel in hand.
“Oh…” I glance down at the plate. Slowly, I lift the bread and take a bite. Dry, burnt crumbs stick to the roof of my mouth, and I struggle to swallow, the lump getting lodged in my throat. My smile is forced. “It’s great, thanks.”
Claudia’s smirk is back, though she dips her head, hiding behind a curtain of hair. Heidi grins, her shoulders relaxing.
Then the front door slams open, the sound ripping through the house, and I jolt upright, the plate slipping from my lap, toast scattering across the floor. Claudia’s already on her feet, a millisecond behind me.
My chest tightens and drops.
Rayden and Jordan stand in the doorway—Jace pale on their heels—the warm breeze from outside spilling into the room before the door clicks shut again.
One look at their faces and any remaining flicker of hope extinguishes.
Heidi drops to her knees to gather the toast, muttering something under her breath, but I can’t move, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“What did you find out?” Sam asks from the kitchen doorway, his brow furrowed.
Jordan’s eyes dart to me before he answers, “They’re holding them both in The Cell.”
The world tilts. My eyes slam shut.
No.
I wouldn’t wish that hell on anyone… except, maybe now, Elissa Germain.
“For how long?” someone asks. I think it’s Claudia.
“Until they hold a trial,” Rayden says, a grim expression on his face.
“A trial?” Claudia echoes, voice laced with disbelief.
I sink to the sofa.
Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Since when did the State like to play court?”
“Apparently it’s the best way forward for a case like this,” Jordan mutters.
“How does that work?” My voice cracks.
Rayden sinks down beside me, the couch dipping beneath his weight. His face is drawn, eyes full of concern. “It’s all a fix,” he says quietly. His hand reaches out, brushing against mine and squeezing. “Mils, I’m so sorry. For yesterday. For everything.”
“What do you mean, a fix?” My words are stronger this time. I turn to him fully, searching his face for answers. He drops his gaze, his jaw tensed. “Rayden, what does that mean? Jordan?” I look to Zac’s friend.
Jordan exhales loudly, staring at the floor and shoving his hands into his pockets. “It means…” he trails off, cursing under his breath.
“It means the jury is made up of State officials.”
My head snaps towards Ray. “What?”
The finality in his expression tells me everything before he can even speak.
The jury won’t be fair. It won’t be real; they’re not even going to pretend. The State has written the ending before the trial has even begun, obliterating the justice system in every way they can.
And that can only mean one thing...
“They have no chance,” Sam breathes.
No chance.