Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Emilia
Emilia?” Claudia exclaims as soon as she steps into the enormous room and spots me on the couch. “Emilia!”
“Claudia,” I say, rising to my feet. She strides across the room and pulls me into a quick hug. Jordan’s glowering at us from the doorway. Lowering my voice, I say, “I’m sorry.”
“Forget about that. I’ll deal with him,” she says quietly, pulling back and brushing a stray strand of my blonde hair behind my shoulder. “What were you thinking? Killmoor?”
My jaw tightens. “That my husband is being tortured every day. Kayla, too,” I say sharply. Stepping away, I sink back down. “I still want to go. And then, to top it all off and make it really worthwhile, I’ll hunt down Germain and kill her.”
“We aren’t going to Killmoor,” Jordan says, his voice deep, full of tension and unshed anger. He shakes his head.
“Why not?” I snap.
“Because every single one of us would be killed before even approaching the front gate,” he argues.
I grimace, slouching back. “I’m not asking any of you to come with me.” My voice is weak.
“He’s right, Em,” Claudia says softly. “I know you want to help Zac, but this isn’t the way.”
“What else can I do?” I ask. “Just sit here? Eat, drink, laugh, party? All whilst they can’t?”
“Of course not,” Claudia replies, reaching out and grabbing my hand, squeezing it gently. “But storming Killmoor isn’t the answer. It’s a suicide mission.”
“And then Zac would kill us all,” Bridget adds from her seat at the table behind us. “The ones who manage to escape, anyway.”
“But…” I start, chest tight and words faltering. “I…” I swallow, but words still don’t come. The fire in my veins splutters, leaving behind the hollow, raw ache that I tried to escape. My eyes meet Claudia’s, her face a little blurred.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about Killmoor,” Jordan says, rounding the sofa before perching on the edge of the coffee table. He leans on his knees, his eyes heavy with exhaustion and defeat. I should feel guilty for making him this way.
But I don’t.
There’s no fight left in me. No emotion strong enough to overcome yet another failure. Another terrible idea by me. Another night of doing nothing.
Jordan shifts closer, brow furrowed. “Killmoor is as bad as you’ve heard,” he says, his voice low.
I suck in a breath. As bad as you’ve heard.
“There’s no way in?” I nearly whisper.
“The Enforcers at Killmoor are double what they have stationed in Nottingham. An electric fence rings the border, and they have groups of Enforcers on constant lookout,” he explains.
“Back when they set the prison up, they laid concrete the length of the foundations to stop anyone from attempting to dig out. Or in.”
“And… the prisoners...?” I trail off, looking down at mine and Claudia’s hands.
“They have cells.”
“And?”
“Em,” Claudia says softly, as though cautioning me.
“Tell me more,” I say, looking back up at Jordan. His face is practically a grimace.
“Tell her, Jordan,” Anna snaps from beside Bridget, her arms crossed. “She deserves to live in the same hell as the rest of us.”
Jordan’s head drops, and he curses under his breath. One second, two, three… and then he looks back up and continues. “There’s nothing in the cells. They’re dark rooms, painted black. No windows, no beds, no toilets…”
My heart drops to my gut, displacing everything else. Bile rises, clawing up my throat and threatening to spill over their well-worn rug.
“Prisoners are kept in their cells for the majority of the day.” Jordan continues, his voice edged. “The only times they’re permitted to leave are for lessons.”
“Lessons?” I echo.
“They depend on the crime.”
“And you’re all just sitting here?” My hands tear from Claudia’s as I stumble to my feet. Anna mirrors my movements, standing as she narrows her eyes at me. “Leaving them to rot in there?”
“Emilia,” Claudia murmurs, grabbing my arm and trying to tug me back down.
“There’s nothing we can do.” Bridget’s expression is dark, missing its usual spark as she plays with the singular gold ring on her right hand. She swallows, dipping her head.
“There must be,” I counter, but it’s weak. Jordan reaches for me, and I bat his hands away, backing away from both him and his wife. “We can’t just leave them in there. It’s only been eight days! Did you see them? Did you see how fucking broken they already were?” My voice shatters.
Claudia barrels through my defences, hauling me into her arms and gripping tight.
“You think we don’t know that?” Anna snaps.
“You weren’t at the trial. You didn’t see him.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms. “If you want to try to rescue him, be my guest. At least it will get you out of the way.”
“Out of the way?” I echo, my tone biting. I try to shrug Claudia off, taking a step towards Princess Petty, but she holds onto my shoulders. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Em—”
“Zac never wanted you,” Anna snaps. “He hated you from the moment you were paired up.”
“That’s not true—”
“It is—”
“Anna, fucking shut up,” Jordan bites, rising to his feet behind me.
“He told me she was a liability. That she’d be better off gone.
” Her words hit, burning through my chest before I can brace myself, despite the fact that what she’s saying is true.
I know he was against this. So was I; I never wanted Zac, so I have no right to be affected by her words.
But I am anyway, the ache in my chest growing with every beat of my heart.
“I didn’t like him either,” I admit. Her brows lift at the words, a flicker of her resentment easing into her expression.
“Can we stop acting like children?” Kieran finally pipes up, pushing away from the kitchen doorway to take five strides inside the room. “What are we doing here? Zac wanted to keep her well away from any of this.”
Bridget grins. “It seems Zac didn’t realise just how persistent his wife was.”
“Stop calling her his fucking wife,” Anna snaps.
“Why?” Bridget retorts. “That’s what she is.”
“Just like Danny is your husband?” Anna bites back.
Bridget bristles, her shoulders stiffening.
“It’s just a piece of paper.” Anna continues, eyes back on me, roaming from head to toe.
“Doesn’t mean a thing when he was getting a better offer elsewhere.
” Anna hammers the final nail into the coffin with her words, each one driving deeper until I can barely breathe.
Suddenly, all her venom, her anger, her bitterness, it all makes sense.
They were together. They slept together. He came to her every time he left our house.
Anna and Zac.
Not Emilia and Zac.
My lungs squeeze, all the air spilling through my lips.
My mind flashes—from the way the flecked amber in his eyes seemed to burn when he trapped me against that wall, flames burning as he teased me closer, and closer to ecstasy, to the way they would darken with annoyance, with anger, with frustration so many fucking times.
Most of the other times.
“Anna, give it a rest,” Claudia snaps. I blink at her, startled, the sharp edge to her voice so unlike the calm woman I’m used to.
“It’s fine,” I grit out. I have no right to be angry, or even annoyed. After all, Zac and I don’t like one another.
“Em…” Claudia’s voice softens.
“I’m glad he was entertaining himself elsewhere.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
“You’re just jealous he fucked me every time—”
“For fuck’s sake,” Jordan snaps, slamming his palm against the wall. “No, he didn’t. He hasn’t touched you for over a month, Anna; he told me so himself.” Anna’s face flushes red, and out the corner of my eye, I catch Bridget smirk.
He hasn’t… Oh. It’s been just over a month since I came home from The Cell and Zac was plunged into a pit of guilt, but that doesn’t explain why he didn’t go back to her at some point before he was arrested—
“Can we move on now?” Jordan deadpans.
“Yes,” I say. “It’s time you tell me everything.”
“Em…”
“I’m fucking fed up of this,” I snap.
“Zac doesn’t want—”
“Zac isn’t fucking here!” It’s Anna who cuts Claudia off.
Her voice slices through the room. Everyone turns, wide eyed as she steps forward, green eyes locked on me.
“Just fucking tell her. He can’t stop you.
” The words hang, tension crackling through the room.
My breath catches, and for a second, I just stare at her, lips parted in surprise.
“She has a point,” Kieran says. “Emilia’s hardly going to stop asking.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”
Kieran grins. “Plus, she’s feisty. She’ll be a great recruit.”
“Fucking hell, fine,” Jordan snaps. He points back at the sofa, and I hesitantly comply. Jordan settles on the dark coffee table once more. “There are more of us.”
“I knew it.” I exhale, slumping against the couch.
“We’re part of a… resistance of sorts.”
“Against the State,” Claudia adds.
“So… you’re… doing what?”
“We’re working on figuring out a way to take them down,” Anna says, tone still fiery and bitter.
I stare, open-mouthed, at them all.
The goal is impossible. Reckless and dangerous, the kind of thing you whisper in your deepest dreams, not say out loud for the world to mock you.
“The… whole State?” I clarify.
Jordan nods. “Anna works in City Hall,” he explains. “She gathers information for us and has a direct line straight to Germain. Bridget and I work in the weapons factory. We try to obtain whatever we can.”
“Incognito, of course.” Bridget grins. “Only a few every now and again. We have to stay under the radar.”
“Shit…”
“I work at the railway,” Kieran says.
My brow furrows. “The railway hasn’t been in use since before the war.”
He smirks. “That’s what they want you to believe. It goes to York and Manchester. Germain thinks it’s imperative to keep trade moving efficiently between her cities.”
There’s a small smile at the edge of Claudia’s lips. “Why do you think we forced you off those tracks so fast?”
“Because I was drunk!”
“Zac, as you know, is a delivery driver.” Jordan continues.
“Not everything goes by train,” Kieran says.