He’s finally resting.
He’s finally free.
He’s finally out of pain.
And now?
Now I’m alone.
But I don’t care. Because no matter what they do to me, I will suffer nothing compared to what Knuckles has gone through this day. I can’t imagine the pain he suffered while fighting death.
“I expected Spike to have shown up by now,” Cortéz sighs, almost bored. “I’m going to offer him a simple trade. His men…for you and your biker.”
He paces slowly, boots scraping against the concrete.
“I’m sure they’ve found us by now. We’re not really hiding.” A smile curves his mouth. “I even left him a little gift outside. Weak soldiers. Men I need gone, but can’t kill them outright because they’re family. Rules and all that.” He chuckles. “That should take the edge off his rage before negotiations begin.”
My stomach twists.
“Aaron will handle the rest of Spike’s close biker friends,” Cortéz continues casually. “We never truly intended to release you, of course, but there’s no need for Spike to know that.”
He lifts his phone again and exhales impatiently.
“I need a body part to send with this video,” he says. “Would you mind cutting off an ear?”
“Not his ear,” Aaron snaps, glaring at my hand like I insulted his mother. “I want the fingers that pinched me. It’ll teach him not to be a bully.”
Is he serious?
Aaron disappears behind me and comes back holding… hedge clippers. Small, rusted, wickedly sharp.
My heart pounds wildly. If my body only shuts down after adrenaline drops, then I’ll be awake until the moment I die…because right now, I am nothingbutadrenaline.
Aaron lines up my thumb between the blades.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
The clippers start to close…
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Three explosions tear through the basement, causing the clippers to fall away.
I gasp and snap my eyes open only to find one person standing…Knuckles.
He’s swaying, barely upright, covered in blood…but somehow still here.
“Guard… was an idiot,” he rasps, staggering forward. Smoke drifts from the gun in his shaking hand. “Fuck, Eli… you’re hurt.”
My throat closes. How is he even standing?
The guard lies dead where Knuckles' body was only moments before…a bullet hole perfectly centered between his eyes.
Aaron is sprawled beside my chair, blood pooling beneath him.
Cortéz is alive, but staggering as blood pours from his leg.
Knuckles turns.
