Adam squeezed my shoulder once, firm, his gray-blue eyes locking with mine. He didn’t have to say it. I already knew.
This wasn’t just another hub.
This was where they turned people into inventory.
91
Raine
The man’s wrist was paper-thin under my fingers, his pulse faint but stubborn. He stirred again, a weak moan slipping past his lips, and it cut straight through me.
“We have to get him out,” I whispered.
Adam gave a sharp nod to Blade. Without a word, Blade sliced the restraints, the leather straps falling limp. Hawk stepped in, slinging the man’s weight across his shoulder like it was second nature. The machines beeped angrily as the IV line snapped free, but Hawk didn’t slow.
I moved to the next table. Empty—thank God—but the leather was worn, the buckles dark with stains I didn’t want to name.
Another monitor beeped faintly in the corner. I followed the sound, my chest tightening when I saw her. A woman—maybe thirty, maybe younger—strapped down, head tilted, lips cracked from dehydration. Her eyelids fluttered when I touched her arm.
“Hey,” I whispered, crouching beside her. My hands shook as I smoothed her dark hair from her damp forehead. “You’re okay. We’ve got you.”
Her eyes opened just a sliver, dull and glazed. A single tear slid down her cheek.
Something broke in me.
I fumbled for the buckle, cursing under my breath when my hands slipped. Adam was suddenly beside me, his larger hand covering mine. Together, we wrenched the strap loose.
I eased her arm free, my voice steady even though my throat burned. “Stay with me, alright? You’re safe now.”
Her lips moved, the whisper so faint I almost missed it. “Don’t… let… them…”
Tears blurred my vision. “I won’t,” I promised. “Not ever again.”
Blade’s voice cut through the room, sharp. “Three more. West hall.”
I stood, fury hardening my spine. “Then we’re not leaving without them.”
Adam’s eyes caught mine—gray-blue steel, proud and fierce—and he gave a single, sharp nod.
We moved together, deeper into the lab. Every door we opened, every shadow we peeled back, felt like pulling people out of hell one soul at a time.
And I swore to myself—every victim we freed, every tear I wiped away, every pulse I felt beating beneath my fingers—was another nail in the coffin of the bastards who built this place.
92
Raine
The west hall smelled colder, sharper, like the air itself had been sterilized. My boots squeaked faintly on the tile as Adam pushed the next door open, Blade sliding in ahead of us like a shadow.
Three more patients.
Two men, one woman—strapped down, IV lines taped, monitors beeping with eerie calm. Sedated, alive, waiting.
My chest ached. We didn’t have enough arms to carry them all out, not under fire. But we’d find a way. Wehadto.
I hurried to the woman’s side, fumbling at the buckle with shaking hands, whispering to her like she could hear me. “You’re okay. You’re safe now. Just hang on.”
Behind me, Hawk cursed low. “Shit. Movement outside.”
