Chapter 52
Chapter Fifty-Two
Zac
The rough hand of the prison guard clamps around my arm, jerking me up from the hard wooden bench I’ve been chained to for what feels like an eternity. My knees nearly give out, blood rushing to my head so fast the world tilts and swims. The cuffs bite into my already split wrists.
Kayla was dragged away a while ago. Her face pale, trembling and bloody, and her body limp. The pained cry that fell from her lips still echoes somewhere deep in my mind. Over and over, on repeat. Rage courses through me.
I twist against the Enforcer’s grip, and a swift punch plunges into my ribs, tearing the breath from me.
Before this morning, I hadn’t seen Kayla, or anyone else, since being locked away. Only the same few Enforcers each day, trapped in my own fucking hellhole and subjected to unbearable obscenities and incalculable torture.
Germain popped by twice. Both times she stood just beyond the bars, immaculate as ever, heavy, floral perfume cutting through the stench of blood and piss and rust, a fucked up smirk directed at me. I didn’t have the energy to reach through the bars to break her neck.
The days have become one long cycle that the Devil would admire. Sleep is few and far between. Sometimes, my arms are chained to the ceiling when I dare to doze off. Other times, they blare a siren, the answering screams from other cells plunging right through to my bones.
Today, three Enforcers stepped into my cell without a word. Two slammed me to the wall, and the other shoved a needle into my neck.
I woke up here. On a wooden bench under blazing golden chandeliers, wood-paneled walls in front of me. I’m waiting, slumped against the seat, no fight left to give. I’ll get through whatever torture they have planned for me today. Or maybe today is the day my heart finally gives out.
Light from the window—the first sliver of daylight I’ve seen in forever—burns my tired eyes.
The door at the end of the corridor slams open, and I flinch before I can stop myself. Four Enforcers stride in—not my usuals—their heavy boots echoing off the walls. Their eyes lock on me.
“Let’s go, Hastings,” one of them snaps.
The guard at my side shoves me forward, and they all reach for me, fingers plunging into bruises and wounds I’ve given up caring for.
My legs buckle, muscles wasted. They tug me forward, down the ornate corridor to another open doorway that’s a hole of pure, white light that’s so bright it hurts to look at.
“You said you’d let him go!”
My head jerks up so fast that my vision blurs. My eyes lock on the light.
Emilia.
My chest seizes, my muscles lock, and for a second, everything inside me stops.
Then it shifts. The pain evaporates, burning away in a heat so sudden it hurts. My muscles ripple, raw instinct battling against the weakness, my legs suddenly steady beneath me.
She’s fucking here.
She can’t be here.
“Why.” My voice cracks, a rasp of panic. “Why is she here?” The words are weak but laced with wild anger that pulses through me. I yank my hands up, slamming my cuffed fists into the spine of one of the Enforcers.
They tighten their grip, barking orders I don’t hear over the blood roaring in my ears.
Adrenaline takes over, and every instinct I’ve ever had screams at me.
“Let her go!” The words tear from my lips as I twist, slamming my shoulder into the man on my right. Pain bursts up my arm, but I can’t stop. I drive my left elbow back, feeling the impact, hearing the satisfying grunt as an Enforcer loses his hold on me.
The others react instantly, slamming me back against the wall, their hands utterly fucking unyielding. I hiss through my teeth, shifting under their hold.
“Stop struggling unless you want to go back to Killmoor,” one of them barks. He yanks his baton from his belt, but the joke’s on him—I haven’t been scared of them for weeks.
I curl my fingers around one of their uniforms and yank. He falls towards me with a squeal.
“Fucking hell. She’s here to meet you, Hastings,” another spits, words loud over the commotion. “Your month is up.” The words hit harder than any punch they’ve ever delivered. I blink, and my knees buckle. One of them curses, struggling to haul me upright again.
A whole month… surely not.
“I’m done?” I manage, tone disbelieving.
“Yeah,” the Enforcer snaps. “Now move.”
With that, he jerks my arm, and I’m yanked forward, legs barely remembering how to work. I stumble, their grip iron, digging in, but it barely registers. I’ve been hit, kicked and broken open so many times this past month that pain has become background noise.
And now… now I’m free.
One final step and I’m outside.
The sun burns. It hurts. The first touch of real warmth and brightness I’ve felt all month scalds my eyes but soothes my skin. I blink hard, over and over, but the glare keeps blinding me. The air is fresh and alive, and I almost fall to my knees.
The Enforcers crowd around me, and one shoves a key into my cuffs.
I’ve only been free of them five times since they locked me up.
There’s a sharp click, and then the metal drops away, the feeling foreign, my wrists too light.
My skin stings, but I don’t look at them, just let my hands drop to my sides for the first time in forever.
The Enforcers step back. One of them gives me a final shove, a hard push that sends me stumbling forward.
“Zac!” My head jerks up, heart slamming into my ribs.
And there she is.
Blonde hair whipping in the sunlight, her eyes wide and free, sprinting across the courtyard like a woman possessed.
My breath catches. She’s safe.
For a moment, I can’t do anything but stare and relish the sight of her. A grin breaks over my lips, and my cheeks ache. My legs tremble, but I push forward anyway, closer and closer towards her. My body begs me to collapse, but I can’t. Not now.
“Emilia.” Her name rips out of me, but I’m not sure it’s loud enough for her to hear.
Steps away, she hesitates, coming to a stop.
Scanning the broken state of me, her eyes trace every inch of my body, the lightness in her expression clashing with horror.
I don’t wait. I lunge forward, closing the distance in two strides, and pull her into me.
My arms wrap around her without hesitation.
She freezes, but slowly, carefully, her arms curl around my waist. My body cries with pain, every muscle screaming, but I ignore it, forcing it down and focusing on the scent of vanilla that drifts from my arms.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs against my neck.
A hoarse laugh bursts from my lips, and I shake my head against hers. “I’m here,” I say, those words far closer to the truth.
She pulls back, her blue eyes heavy with worry, scanning over my face and taking in everything.
And I see it. The utter disbelief. Her mouth parts, and a raspy gasp escapes. My legs wobble.
“Fucking hell,” she exclaims. “I’m so sorry, I just threw myself at you and you… you’re… I didn’t think... I’m so sorry—”
“Emilia. Emilia,” I cut her off, lifting both hands to brush the hair away from her face. “Stop.”
“Zac?” Jordan appears behind her. Emilia’s face snaps to him, and then she tears herself out of my grip, stepping back and letting him and a pained-looking Kieran through.
“Jordan,” I manage. “Kieran.”
“You look shit, mate,” Kieran says. I respond with a shaky laugh, ignoring the way my legs turn to jelly, the adrenaline that’s been holding me together threatening to let go.
“Good to see you, too,” I retort. “You wait until I’m back at full strength…” My sentence fades halfway as gravity wins. Everything buckles, and the ground rushes up to meet me.
“Zac!” Emilia yelps as Jordan and Kieran catch me just in time, hoisting me up before I hit the stone. They shove themselves beneath my arms, supporting me.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Jordan mutters.
Claudia appears beside Emilia, eyes full of worry as she glances between me and the blonde. She grabs Emilia’s hand, and the two of them trail behind us as Jordan and Kieran guide me forward.
I don’t register the walk. My feet barely touch the ground as my mates carry me home like a fucking baby.
I’ve never felt so weak. So fucking useless.
I black in and out of consciousness the entire way, missing numerous streets, as I’m taken through the city.
I am well and truly beat. Exhaustion saturates every inch of me as the reality of being away from Killmoor begins to sink in. I’m messed up, my mind broken, my body fucked, and right now I can’t even begin to fathom how I’ll ever get over this and move on.
This could be it for me.
Emilia’s long hair suddenly wafts in front of me, the scent of vanilla so potent after days of nothing but putrid filth. I breathe in slowly, savouring it for as long as I can.
She suddenly steps forward, and I realise with a start that she was unlocking our home and opening the door.
Jordan and Kieran haul me up the step, and into the warm, homely space.
“I cleared the bed for him,” Emilia says softly. A small smile twitches at the corner of my mouth, and my eyes close. Fucking hell, I could listen to that voice for hours.
I black out once more.
When I re-open my eyes, I’m lying on my back on the double bed. Emilia’s double bed.
Kieran, Claudia, and Emilia are nowhere to be seen, their voices muffled from the floor below. Jordan’s here, standing, arms crossed, frowning out the window.
“Get the fuck out of my bedroom, man,” I manage, though my voice breaks. His frown eases, brows lifting as he makes his way around the bed before sitting beside my legs. He visibly swallows, gaze raking everywhere but my eyes.
“Stop looking at me like I’m about to fucking die,” I mutter.
He scoffs. “As if,” he says. “You’re Zac fucking Hastings.”
I huff a laugh. “Damn right,” I say as my eyes flutter closed. “What happened whilst I was gone?”
“We’ll talk about that once you’ve slept.”
If I could, I’d roll my eyes. “Has she…” I trail off. “Has Emilia been okay?”
He’s quiet for a beat before replying. “She’s okay.”