Chapter 42
Evelyn
The Escape
My wrists are raw, bleeding, but I don’t stop rubbing the rope against the hook. Pain means progress. Pain means life.
Finally—SNAP. The rope gives. My hands fall free.
I swallow a sob. I crawl toward the only door I’ve seen open. Each board creaks under me, loud enough to wake the dead, but I don’t care. My eyes dart across the room until I spot it:
A rusted wrench. I grab it. My body trembles with adrenaline and terror as I step into the hallway. Then—Gunshots. A shout. His voice. Alexander.
I run. But Grace appears first, eyes wild, hair disheveled, lipstick smeared. “You think he came to save you?” she hisses. “He’ll never leave this place alive.”
I grip the wrench tighter. “Then I’ll die fighting.”
Before she can move, the back door bursts open. Alexander. We collide mid-run, his arms snapping around me like armor. I choke on a sob as he crushes me against his chest.
A shot rings out.
He twists—The bullet hits his side. “No!” I scream. He doesn’t fall. Doesn’t stumble. He turns, snarling, toward Grace.
She raises the gun again, hand shaking—I don’t think. I swing. The wrench cracks against her temple. She collapses. Aiden and the PI rush in seconds later, guns up, faces pale.
“Jesus Christ,” Aiden mutters as he sees the blood on Alexander’s shirt. “We need a hospital.”
“Not until she’s safe,” Alexander growls. He pulls me close again and lifts my chin gently. “You okay?”
My voice breaks. “You came for me.”
His forehead presses to mine. His voice is a vow. “Always, baby girl.”