They get Em to the stairs, then Auryn transfers his arm to Olly’s shoulder. She turns back to Sneed and raises her gun. “What’s to stop me from killing you right now?”
“My one condition,” Sneed says calmly, “is that you can only have him if I remain alive. If I die, these men will gun the five of you down without a moment’s hesitation. Even mercenaries as skilled as yours can’t take themalldown before you’re dead.”
Sneed has a point. Gage, Olly, and I are good, but we’re not that good. The only way we’re getting out alive is with his permission, loathe as I am to admit it.
“Let’s go,” Gage growls as he hoists Em up. He drapes Em’s torso across his back and starts climbing the stairs.
Auryn growls as well. “This isn’t over, Sneed,” she says as she follows Gage.
Olly and I trail behind them, though I keep our rear guarded with my gun aimed at the armed men. If anything, my death will stall them long enough for the others to get out.
But they don’t advance. Don’t fire on us. Something is very, very wrong with this.
Back at the Jeep, Gage sets Em down on the back seat, his head in Olly’s lap. I let Auryn sit on me, and once Gage gets behind the wheel, we’re off.
Auryn keeps her eyes on Em the whole time. She barely moves, and her breathing is shallow and rapid. She’s a tiny ball of rage, but her anger won’t help Em now. He needs Olly’s medicine first. Then maybe … other forms of comfort.
Maybe.
I don’t like Em’s pallor. Don’t like the crusted blood covering him, or the angry red lines where they cut into him.
I don’t like the haphazard bandaging below his waist.
What did they do to him?
Chapter 31
EMmett
Everything hurts, and I am hot as hell. My body aches from the pain below my waist. From where they cut me. My legs are like dead weight. I’m sweating, and my mouth is dry. I’m not all that convinced I’m not fighting some wicked infection. Given the state of this place, I can’t be certain they took the right precautions before slicing into my cock.
Before they took my damn knot.
My body shivers, and the scent of pungent death fills my nostrils. Great, now I’ve got chills.
I wish they’d just fucking kill me. It would be so much better.
The omega they shoved in here earlier is gone, but I can still smell her. I hate that smell—lilacs and honey aren’t what I want. It’ll never be what I want.
So why did it hurt when she took one look at me, wrinkled her nose, and scrambled back towards the bars?
I know why. I don’t want to think about it, because thinking about it makes the pain worse.
I wish they’d fucking kill me. I’m as good as dead, anyway.
The scent of lemongrass fills my lungs, and I think maybe I am dying. Maybe the infection has hit my brain. Lemongrass and sunshine fade into cinnamon and peppercorn, and my mouth waters.
And then it gets stronger.
“Emmett!” I can hear her voice, shrill and terrified. Fuck, even my delusions are brutal.
But then the darkness fades, and I’m shoved into light.Strong arms hoist me up like a rag doll, the scent of bourbon hitting me like a brick. I’d know that scent anywhere.
Gage.
Why am I dreaming about Gage on my fucking deathbed?
“Grab him by the waist,” Gage orders, and sure enough, I feel small hands wrap around my waist. My body is shifted, and I groan because I haven’t stood up in days. Not since they removed my knot.
