12. Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
ADRIANA brITTON
I slip away before anyone really notices.
I can’t sit there anymore, watching the countdown and pretending I have something useful to contribute.
So I move quietly down toward the basement, where the monitors glow faintly in the dark space.
Jude is on the screen, curled on his side in bed.
There’s a sticky note beside the feed, taped to the wall.
Good. At least he finally took the damn medicine.
I take a slow breath, steadying myself, before stepping to the door.
My fingers hover on the lock before I finally unlock it and slip inside.
The moment I enter, his gaze finds me. A sound leaves him that I can’t quite place at first—relief, maybe.
My eyes burn just seeing him like this. When not long ago, I was fucking terrified of him. Now, he looks so…vulnerable.
“Hey, Jude,” I murmur.
He shifts upright, the chains clinking softly in the quiet room. His eyes look red when they meet mine again.
I don’t ask permission. I’ve been with him through too much of this already. I’m not hesitant like everyone else. I move forward and sit down in front of him. “How are you?” I ask softly.
He’s quiet for a beat, as if checking his own body before bothering to answer. He looks unbearably tired. “I’m feeling a little better,” he rasps.
A small, relieved smile breaks through despite everything. “I’m glad. You were…really bad when they rescued us.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asks.
The question catches me off guard. “They haven’t told you?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Today is the first day I feel…somewhat alright. So no. Not really.” His eyes flick briefly over me, catching on the bandage at my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. Erik got me on the way out. It’s fine.”
But he doesn’t look away. He’s waiting, still processing, still trying to build a timeline out of broken memories. “My leg fucking hurts.”
I huff a sudden laugh. “I bet. Rafe did that.”
“Yeah, that I know,” he mutters. “But it’s not as bad as before, thank fuck. So…” he trails off, waiting for me to tell him what hell we went through that night.
“They infiltrated the event that you were set to perform at,” I say gently. “Do you remember any of it?”
He narrows his eyes, searching his memory. “Kind of,” he says after a pause. “I remember singing. People dancing.” His voice falters. “And Emma requesting a song. Our song.”
My chest tightens. “She did?”
He exhales through his nose. “Yeah. I stared at her because her hair was different. Then I saw Micah. They were leaving.” His hand tightens slightly in the blanket. “And I…I don’t know. Then I felt it.”
“Felt what?” I ask, watching his body shift, tension crawling back into him as he speaks.
“Rage,” he says simply, like it still confuses him. “I remember wanting her gone. Wanting her not to hurt me anymore.”
My heart aches in a way I don’t have words for. “She was never hurting you, Jude,” I say gently. “Alexei was.”
“I know.” He drags a hand through his hair, jaw locking as if he’s trying to push the memory down deeper. “I get that it doesn’t make sense. But after that, it’s gone. I don’t remember anything else clearly.”
“There wasn’t much after,” I say softly. “A gunfight. Getting out. Being moved here.” A breath leaves me. “They all hate me.”
His eyes lift to mine. “Have you talked to Micah? Emma?” he asks.
My throat constricts. “Yes. Both of them. They love you, Jude. So much.”
He nods, gaze dropping to the space between us, like he doesn’t know what to do with that information yet.
“I need you to get better,” I blurt.
His brows pull together. “Is Alexei looking for me?”
I hesitate. “Yes,” I admit. “He’s threatening to release files on you. And getting Vlad involved.”
That gets his attention. “Do you think he’s going to find us?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I don’t think so. Rafe has this place locked down.”
“Who even is that? The fucker shot me, and I’ve barely seen him around.”
“From what I gather,” I say, managing a faint, tired exhale, “he’s Rook’s cousin’s boss.”
He nods once, but no further questions. He leans back against the wall, shifting the blankets off his legs. He’s just in shorts. No shirt.
“They’re trying to help you,” I add quietly.
“Yeah.”
My heart clenches as I let a silent minute pass. “Thank you, Jude.”
He tilts his head.
“For telling them to save me, too. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.”
A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. “You shouldn’t have,” I whisper.
His eyes study my face. “I know that, too.”
“I’m grateful, though.” Even though it isn’t true. Even though some part of me wishes that Erik’s bullet had struck my heart. I swallow it down. “Jude?” I say softly.
His eyes meet mine again.
I open my mouth, then close it. The truth is right there, but it doesn’t belong here. It’s not my place. It never was. “Get better,” I say instead, quieter. “Okay?”
“I’m working on it.”
“Try harder,” I whisper. “We’re going to need you. She is.”
His expression tightens slightly.
“We’re going to need the weapon Alexei made,” I add. “Because we’re going to use it to kill him.”
His eyes darken, knowing precisely what I mean.
I hesitate at the door, my hand curling around the handle. “She’s strong,” I say. “Emma. She’s fighting for you.”
His head tilts, eyes studying my face.
“She loves you.”
I love you.
I shake my head. “I just…” I force my voice steady. “Really try with her. Don’t give up because she never gave up on you.”
His gaze stays on me.
I nod, more to myself than to him, and open the door. The moment I step out, I nearly collide with Emma. And everything in me goes still. Her hair is slightly disheveled, and her eyes are red from crying.
My stomach drops instantly. “Emma,” I say carefully.
“How is he?” she asks, her voice quiet.
I clear my throat. “He’s okay. He’s doing a little better.”
Her shoulders ease a fraction, seemingly relieved.
But it doesn’t reach the exhaustion carved into her face.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Then I realize she’s not really looking at me.
Her gaze keeps flicking past my shoulder, toward the door I just came out of.
The woman is such an incredible person. I see why Jude loves her.
She has every right to be angry and hate me and actually bash my head into a wall… but she doesn’t.
They’re two insanely kind souls with an intimidating moral compass who are meant to be together.
“How long were you standing there?” I ask gently.
Her eyes finally meet mine again. “Long enough,” she says.
She shifts like she’s about to leave, already pulling herself away from the moment, from me, from everything.
Like she’s running on fumes. I can only imagine that she is.
If someone I loved was taken from me like this I would be… beside myself. Lost.
“Emma,” I say before she can turn.
She pauses.
I swallow, the words catching for a second because I don’t deserve to say them, and yet I can’t stop myself from trying. “I’m sorry. For all of it.” I struggle to get the rest out. “You should have had a different life.”
Despite her obvious sadness, she inclines her chin. “I know,” she says, quieter now. “He and I were robbed of something really special. Years.”
We stand there in the quiet, narrow hallway, and I realize how strange it is. She’s standing in front of the woman who hurt the man she loves for years. The woman who’s partially responsible for him walking away from her. I’ve taken so much from her. From him.
Fuck. I don’t deserve to come out of this. I won’t ever forgive myself for what I’ve done.
“I don’t know how to fix him,” she admits after a moment, pulling me back from my thoughts. “I don’t know how to reach him before things get worse.”
My throat aches. “It will take a little time. But he’s aware enough, thankfully. Whatever Alexei did to him wasn’t enough to destroy him completely.”
She exhales shakily, like she’s trying not to break apart right here in front of me. “I just keep thinking…if I lose him before he even gets back to himself, then what was any of this for?”
I don’t have an answer for that. So I just say, “He knows you’re there. Even when he can’t look at you properly. He knows. He clung to his love for you. Think about that any moment you’re feeling doubt. Remembering your love saved his life.”
That makes her eyes flicker, and she opens her mouth to respond, but suddenly, heavy footsteps grab our attention.
Micah’s voice cuts through our quiet moment. “EMMA!”
Both of us look up at the same time, instinctively. He appears at the top of the stairs, breathing hard, face drained of all color in a way that makes my stomach drop before he even speaks.
His eyes lock onto Emma first. “He released the video.”