Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Emilia
Zac doesn’t even flinch at the word guilty.
I do.
Instinct takes over. I surge up, but an Enforcer’s palm shoves me back down. “Please don’t do this!” I beg.
“The jury has spoken,” Germain says, whacking a wooden gavel down.
“No!”
“This is a joke.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Fucking hell.”
Claudia, Rayden, Jace, Jordan… their voices ripple around me.
I try again. “Please! Don’t!”
Zac—eyes still on me—forces a smile. It’s crooked and painful and more of a grimace. It’s meant to comfort me, reassure me, but with his bruised and blackened face, his split lip and the cuts on his arms, it’s anything but.
This isn’t right.
No.
No, no, no—
Germain’s voice is robotic. “I sentence both Mrs Thomson and Mr Hastings to thirty days in incarceration at Killmoor.”
Thirty days.
Three. Zero.
The numbers drop onto my shoulders. My lips part, breath manic, unsteady and panicked.
Thirty. Days.
They’ve already done five. Five days and Zac has gone from fierce and strong, to beaten and bloody. Kayla from cheeky and smiley, to sobbing and shattered.
The Enforcers move, hooking their arms beneath Zac and Kayla’s beige jumpsuit clad arms, wrenching them to their feet.
I lunge. “No!” I snap, glaring at Germain. She was a shit science teacher, a twat of a headteacher, and now she’s just a fucking bitch.
I wish she’d fucking die.
They’re tugging Zac back towards the door, and I react faster than sense.
The Enforcers behind are a beat too slow, and I scoot forward, stumbling to my feet.
Zac’s eyes go wide, and he barrels into the Enforcer on his right before slamming his shoulder into the other.
They stagger and he pivots like a man possessed, rocketing towards me.
Before I can think twice, my entire body slams into his. A sharp, hissed breath slips through his lips as I wrap my arms around his neck.
Shit.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—”
His cuffed arms hook over my neck, stopping me from retreating as I cause him pain.
Zac stares into my eyes. “Emilia,” he murmurs slowly, as if savouring every syllable.
My name has never sounded so beautiful. I almost fall to my knees. Up close, the damage of the last week is obvious. Sharp scratches mar his cheek, dark circles hang beneath his eyes, and there’s a green bruise beneath the dried blood on his temple. He smells of copper and sweat.
This isn’t anything close to justice—just cruelty that’s masquerading as law.
He leans in, resting his forehead against mine. The warmth of him steadies something inside me, and I press closer, craving more.
“I’ll be okay,” he whispers, breath ghosting my lips, voice weak but fierce. I practically whimper, lifting my chin, suddenly desperate to eliminate the space between us.
Hands seize his arms, yanking him back, and I’m ripped away. Pain shoots through my scalp as his handcuffed wrist snags in my hair. I yelp, but the sting is hardly noticeable as I scream his name, watching three Enforcers pull him away.
“Let her go,” he snarls, right before the door slams shut, wrenching him out of my life.
I don’t stop kicking. Another hand clamps around my legs, and the Enforcers haul me up like I’m nothing, carrying me out of the room.
The opposite direction to Zac.
There’s a ruckus in the room behind as my friends struggle against the Enforcers, but it blurs away as they carry me further and further away.
I kick and scream as they march down the corridor before shoving out of the front doors and dropping me to the ground. Concrete gouges into my palms, pain searing as the scar tissue in my right knee scuffs against the floor. One of them swears, and yanks his baton from his belt.
“Stupid bitch!” he snaps, bringing it down across my arm.
With a yelp, I fall, cheek flat against the ground. He doesn’t stop, the blows heavy and fierce along my spine. Tears drop to the ground, and salty wetness saturates my lips.
“Get the fuck away from her!” Jordan shouts.
Claudia and Heidi are on me in an instant, grabbing at my arms and hauling me up. I stumble, back throbbing. My palm presses against my spine and I cry out at the pulsing pain, knowing it’s going to leave a hideous bruise.
“Mils!” The scent of oak and spice fills my lungs. Rayden is there, steady and calm and impossibly kind. He cups my face and looks straight into my tear-filled eyes. “Are you okay?”
My answer is nothing but a broken sob. He pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me, a comfort I didn’t realise I needed. His body is warm and familiar, and for a beat, I feel calm.
“Let’s get you home,” Claudia murmurs, her voice shaky.
I nod, sniffling. Rayden steps back a fraction, and Heidi takes my hand, gently tugging me forward. We move as a single, battered unit, back through the deserted streets of Nottingham in silence. By the time we reach the Married Sector the shock and horror has frayed into anger. Jace and Sam break.
“Who the fuck do they think they are, playing God like this?” Jace spits, hands balled into fists.
“It’s all a joke. It was never going to be a fair trial,” Sam mutters.
“That sham wasn’t a fucking trial!” Jace snarls.
“True. I can’t believe they even bothered doing one,” Claudia says hoarsely.
“Waste of fucking time.”
“And a whole fucking month?” Jace’s fury spikes. “Kayla can’t do that!”
“I doubt Zac can either,” Heidi says, voice somber. I watch them argue like there’s something they can do, whilst my heart beats slow and heavy in my chest.
They’re right in everything they’re saying.
Without a shadow of a doubt, there is absolutely fuck all we can do.
It’s over.