Chapter 72
Chapter Seventy-Two
Emilia
Hands clamp around my arms as I’m half dragged, half carried past the two other trucks. I twist and kick, trying to make contact with something, but the Enforcer on my left jerks me forward with a grunt, painfully twisting my leg.
“Let go of me!” I barely get the words out before they throw me through the open back doors of the third truck. I sprawl onto the cold metal floor with a grunt, cuffed hands barely able to save me from landing nose first.
Guns cock behind me, and I glance up to see both Enforcers now aiming at me. I give them a sickly grin, ignoring the nausea that swirls in my gut as I rise onto my knees.
“Well, well. You really are hard work,” a calm voice says.
My gaze snaps towards the sound, just as her utterly suffocating floral perfume hits me. My mouth twists into a snarl at the sight of Elissa Germain. Perfectly pressed grey pencil skirt and white blouse. Tidy updo. Glasses nowhere to be seen.
She smiles.
“Why?” My voice comes out hoarse. “Why are you here?”
“To make sure everything went without a hitch,” she says smoothly, as if this were a business lunch instead of a goddamn execution.
Despite everything, a smirk quirks at my lips. “And how’s that going for you?”
Her eyes darken, mask slipping. “It’ll be fine,” she snaps. “Your stupid saviour is outnumbered. There’s no way he’ll get through my men.”
My chest constricts.
Zac. Fucking hell, Zac.
I force myself to meet her eyes, even though behind it all, I’m trembling. “You just watch him,” I snap, voice strong and steady.
Her brows lift, eyes trailing from my knees to my cuffed hands, to my stubborn expression. “No. I think we’ll both wait,” she says. “So you can see when he foolishly dies for you.”
“Wasn’t this what you wanted?” I spit mockingly. “Marital bliss?”
Her lips purse. “You two weren’t even paired up for compatibility reasons—”
“How ironic, then,” I interrupt, voice as sickly sweet and catty as it used to be when I spoke back to her in class.
Her jaw tics.
“It takes a special brand of evil to come up with this shit,” I choose to say, because if I’m already dying, then I have nothing to lose.
“I mean, seriously, you should be locked up.” My head cocks.
“But then, you wouldn’t allow us the same mercy, would you?
” I pause. “So maybe we’ll just kill you instead. The way you do us.”
Her eyes slide to the Enforcers poised with their guns directed at me. I’m surprised they haven’t rammed them against my temple already. “You don’t understand,” she hisses.
I cock a brow. “Look at me, Germain. I think I understand plenty.”
Her gaze darts to them once more before she shakes her head. “No. You don’t. All of this isn’t what it—”
Gunshots echo from outside, and she jumps, scooting back on the bench, eyes wide. The Enforcers, on the other hand, don’t flinch.
I had better hopes of escaping from the other truck. My odds of fighting here are worse than zero.
The cuffs hang heavy and cold around my wrists, adrenaline having finally warmed me from the inside out. Germain moves closer until her knee brushes my rib. She peers down at me like it’s the first day of science class again and she has no idea the attitude I’m going to give her.
“I don’t have a choice, Emilia. If I did, I wouldn’t be here, and nor would you,” she says.
My brows crease, and I open my mouth to respond, but a loud shout from outside echoes through the truck. Mine and Germain’s heads snap towards the open doors, and even the Enforcers shift slightly, eyes darting between me and the open road behind.
Two more trucks screech to a halt behind the convoy, far smaller and unimpressive, but their presence in itself is just as intimidating. My heart sinks as Zac’s chances diminish even further.
Doors fly open, and men and women in balaclavas pour out like a wave, raising weapons and opening fire on the Enforcers.
Oh. Shit.
For a second, I forget how to breathe.
They aren’t with the State.
There’s a flash of honeyed brown hair peeking out from one of their masks, slim shoulders tensed and rigid, and on their feet… Those trainers. I’ve worn those. They inch forward on their tiptoes, feet weaving in a grapevine as they surge ahead. The same way I’ve seen them do in training.
Claudia.
Before I can react, one of the Enforcers jumps inside the truck, and the other grabs the door handle, wrenching it closed, cutting off my view.
“Drive!” Germain shrieks. “Get us out of here. Now!”
The engine roars to life, jolting forward so violently I tilt sideways. My cuffed hands claw at the edge of the bench, desperately trying to stay upright as they accelerate fast enough that Germain falls onto her side.
My pulse roars in my ears as the Enforcers right their guns, aiming them at me once more. Germain’s eyes lock onto mine as she rights herself.
And suddenly, I know what I need to do. What I’m going to do.
Her eyes are full of fire and determination, like she thinks she’s already won. And if that’s so, if I’m going to die by her hand, then I’m not going quietly.
I’m goddamn sure I’m not dying with her still fucking breathing.
I look at the barrels aimed at my face, then up at the men holding them; they’re emotionless, robotic. My gaze darts to Germain. The wavering, unsteady emotion is long gone, replaced instead by the smug, poisonous face I’ve come to know.
If I achieve anything—anything at all before they kill me—it’ll be taking this bitch down with me.
A snarl rips up my throat and spills through my lips.
And I launch towards her.