Chapter 16 Sage #2
She shakes violently, her breath turning more erratic. “Sage,” she tries to whisper, the sound fragile and desperate.
“I’m right here,” I promise her again.
When the nearest guard reaches for her, a power deeper than fear moves through me, a fierce heat climbing from my ribs outward. I won’t let them touch her.
My hand drops to the ground, searching for anything I can use.
My fingers land on a long metal rod half-hidden under a collapsed crate.
The guard lunges forward, and I swing. The rod connects with his forearm with a crack that vibrates through my bones.
He jerks back, clutching his arm as water drenches him from above.
The second guard hesitates, thrown by the sudden fight in me, and I use the moment to pull Hope toward the nearest stack of crates. Her legs buckle again, and I practically drag her through the water pooling across the floor.
“Sage,” she tries to mutter again, her voice thin. She reaches for my shirt and grabs a fistful of it, clinging to me like she’s afraid she’ll disappear if she lets go.
“I’ve got you,” I reassure her, tightening my grip around her waist. “Just a little more. Stay with me.”
My breaths come fast and rough as I maneuver us behind the crates. I shove one heavy box forward, letting it crash to the ground to start a barricade. Then another. The water makes the floor slick, but it also muffles the movement as I push and pull each crate into place.
Hope slumps against the wall, exhausted, her head leaning against my shoulder. She is awake but fading, her eyelids fluttering as she tries to stay present.
“I’m going to get us out,” I whisper, brushing my hand over her cheek. “Just keep breathing. I’m not letting anything happen to you.”
The alarms keep blaring, and the water streams from the ceiling like a storm trapped indoors. The sound is overwhelming, but it gives me cover. It keeps Thomas’s men disoriented.
Movement catches my eye. Thomas stands across the warehouse, his hair slicked to his forehead, and his clothes drenched. But he doesn’t rush. He moves with the slow certainty of someone who believes the end is already decided. His gaze locks on us, assessing the makeshift barricade I created.
He reaches behind him and lifts a gun. Hope’s body jolts, and she grips the fabric of my shirt even harder. Fear shoots through me, but it fuels me instead of stopping me. I crouch in front of her, positioning myself to shield both her and my stomach.
“You just keep breathing,” I whisper again.
Thomas approaches, water dripping from his arm as he lifts the gun higher.
“You have made this far more troublesome than it needed to be,” he calls out over the alarm. His voice is calm, almost bored, even with rage tightening every line of his body. “All you had to do was accept what was coming.”
My heart races, pounding so hard it hurts. “You became everything you once hated,” I shout back.
He walks closer, his eyes narrowing with each step. “I became what survival demanded.”
Hope whimpers behind me, her fingers digging into my back. I reach back and squeeze her hand, feeling her trembling under my palm.
My other hand tightens around the metal rod. My muscles feel tired, but adrenaline pushes me forward.
“You’re not touching her!” I scream at him. “You’re not touching my child either!”
He lifts the gun to chest height. Water streams down his arm, dripping off the barrel. My breath is trapped in my chest as Hope’s hand squeezes mine. Every instinct inside me screams to fight, to hold on, and to protect.
Thomas takes another step. And another. The water falls harder, as if the entire ceiling has opened. He draws in a breath. He opens his mouth—
A crash booms through the warehouse, so loud that I jump. The front doors explode inward, metal bending and groaning under the force. Shouts echo across the space. Boots thunder through puddles. And through the noise, the alarms, the water, and the shouting, I hear his voice.
“Sage!” Luka’s voice tears through the noise, hitting me with a piercing rush that goes straight to my heart.
The alarms keep blaring, the sprinklers keep pouring water across the warehouse, and Thomas’s men shout orders to one another, but none of it matters now. Luka is here. Hope lifts her head weakly, her eyes widening in relief.
Boots pound against the concrete floor. Multiple voices echo through the space, deep and forceful, pushing into every corner of the warehouse.
Water splashes everywhere as men rush between the crates, guns drawn, moving with purpose.
The lights flutter, and the shadows stretch across the walls, making it hard to tell where anyone is for more than a heartbeat at a time.
“You brought him here,” he growls while stepping toward us.
“I didn’t bring anyone,” I counter, tightening my grip on the metal rod. “He found me.”
Thomas lifts the gun again, aiming straight at my chest. Hope tries to jerk forward, as if she can shield me with her body, but she is too weak and can barely lift her arms.
“Stay behind me,” I whisper to her, leaning closer so she can feel my voice near her ear. “Don’t move.”
Her trembling increases, but she nods against my shoulder.
Thomas stalks forward, water splashing under his boots with each step. His jaw flexes, and the cold focus in his eyes makes the air between us feel poisoned.
“I gave you a chance to make this painless,” he mutters. “But you never could follow a simple rule, Sage. Not when you were a child and not now.”
I rise a little taller, even though fear keeps rattling inside my ribs. “I learned to fight because you left us,” I respond. “You taught me every lesson I’ll ever need to know.”
His grip tightens around the gun. “Then this is your fault.”
Gunfire erupts across the warehouse as Luka’s men press forward, their shouts cutting through the alarms while they break off in different directions with quick, practiced movements. The metal walls vibrate under the noise.
“Cover left!” someone shouts. “Move forward!”
Water sprays off their jackets as they sprint across the warehouse floor. Vega’s bark cuts through the alarms, powerful and sharp, followed by the rapid tapping of his paws across the wet concrete as he charges ahead. The sound of him hits me with another rush of shaky relief.
Thomas’s men begin firing toward the entrance. Bullets snap through the air, striking the pillars and crates around us. Splinters fly, mixing with water droplets and dust. Hope gasps, and I pull her closer, shielding her body with mine.
The warehouse erupts into chaos as Luka comes into view through the heavy spray of water. He moves fast and low, his entire body focused on the far end of the warehouse, on us. His soaked clothes cling to him, and his eyes track every movement fiercely.
The moment his gaze lands on our corner, a tight pressure forms in my ribs. It feels like the first breath after drowning.
Thomas notices the change in my focus and spins toward Luka. He lifts the gun toward him, but Luka is already moving.
“Thomas!” Luka’s voice cracks through the noise, loud enough to slice through the alarms. “You are finished.”
Thomas brings his arm around, angling the gun toward me.
“No!” Luka launches forward, water exploding from the floor under his feet.
Thomas fires a shot, the sound shattering through the warehouse like thunder.
I yank Hope down behind a crate, my heart slamming so hard it feels like it might break free. The bullet tears through the wooden crate beside us, splintering the wood into flying shards. Hope curls into me, shaking violently as water pours over us.
“Sage!” Luka’s voice rips through the space, panicked and raw.
“I’m here!” I call back, raising my head long enough to let him see me before ducking again.
Thomas moves toward us with a furious, determined stride, his eyes blazing with nothing human left in them. He grips the gun tighter and forces his way through the crates. He is coming to kill me, my baby, and Hope.
My grip tightens around the metal rod until my knuckles ache. “Move,” I whisper to Hope, pulling her slightly to the side so her body is tucked even further behind the crates. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Just keep your head down.”
Her breathing comes in quick, uneven rushes, but she nods in understanding.
Thomas steps closer, the water pouring over him, the gun unwavering in his grip.
“It’s time to end this,” he mutters.
I rise slowly, placing myself between him and Hope. My arms shake, and my legs feel unsure, yet a fierce instinct holds me upright. “If you want us,” I tell him, “you’re going through me.”
He lifts the gun toward my chest. Gunfire erupts across the warehouse again, and Thomas jerks his head toward the noise, just for a breath.
It’s the opening I need. I surge forward, swinging the metal rod with both hands. The first strike cracks across his forearm, hitting the spot where the gun rests in his grip. The impact jolts through my arms, forcing his aim off target.
He snarls and tries to raise the gun again, but I swing a second time, the rod connecting with the side of his head. The blow lands with a sickening thud, and Thomas reels backward, disoriented.
His feet slip on the wet floor. He stumbles, barely catching himself, the gun faltering in his grip.
“Cover the right aisle!” Luka shouts as he and his men rush forward.
Boots thunder. Men shout orders. Gunfire trades in bursts. Smoke from ricocheting bullets mixes with the mist from the sprinklers, turning the air thick.
I hold the metal rod against my chest, my heartbeat rising fast as Thomas steadies himself with a furious glare.
His gun lifts again, trembling with rage, and the alarms above us scream while water pours down in heavy sheets.
Hope lets out a frightened whimper, and Thomas’s finger starts to tighten on the trigger.
Before he can fire, Luka reaches us, his voice breaking through the noise. “Sage!”
Time seems to lock in place. The roar of water, gunfire, and shouting blends together while I keep Hope tucked close and tighten my grip on the rod. I don’t know what will happen in the next heartbeat. I only know Luka is here, and nothing will ever be the same again.