I’m a fucking moron. A goddamn idiot.
I can’t believe he…and then I…
Shaking my head, I try to clear it.
No, stop.
Focus. I need to get out of here.
Pulling on a hoodie I find in a drawer and darting to the door, gritting through the pain in my leg. I ease it open, peering into the hall. Urgent Voices echo down the corridor, but none are close enough to see me.
Good. This is my shot. I slip into the hallway, the door swinging shut behind me. I have no idea where the hell I’m going, thankfully, the nurse who stitched my leg comes to my rescue as she turns the corner with wide, panicked eyes.
“Miss! Come with me!” She quickly motions for me to follow her. I fall behind her, joining with a few other medical staff as they scramble through the halls.
After a few turns, we burst through a side door, the night air slapping me in the face. I suck in a sharp breath, adrenaline coursing through me. I limp away, my legs pumping, each step jarring my injured leg, pain lancing up my spine. But I can’t stop. The sounds of shouting and gunfire loud in the distance behind me.
I keep going until my lungs burn, until my legs threaten to give out. Finally, I stumble to a stop, leaning heavily against a nearby wall. Sweat trickles down my temple as I gasp for air. Ihave no clue where I am. Removing my phone from my pocket, I see multiple missed calls from Roxy.
She answers on the first ring.
“A, where are you!? Are you okay?” Her words are frantic, and the sound of her voice nearly makes me cry. “I was so worried about you.”
“Roxy…” My voice trembles, and I swallow hard.
“Maxim was shot.” She bursts into tears. “I’m at the hospital now, he’s in surgery, the doctors say he should pull through, but I can’t lose him. Where are you? Please tell me you’re okay.”
I sag against the wall, my heart twisting. “I’m okay,” I reassure her. My eyes scan the row of parked cars, looking for an easy one to hot-wire. “Listen, I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”
“Who the fuck were those bastards?”Raze explodes, slamming his fist into a locker so hard it dents. The metal crunch echoing off the concrete walls of the Vault’s armory.
We barely made it out. Emergency evac. Full lockdown.
My hands are still slick with blood—some mine, most not. Every nerve in my body’s frayed, burned to the fucking bone. And yet, the only thing I feel is rage. Cold, blinding rage.
“They knew where we’d be.” I yank off my ruined shirt. “That wasn’t an ambush. It was a fucking execution.”
“There’s a rat,” Raze says without looking at me. We both know it.
Dalton and Alistair walk in, and the air goes rancid.
“Sterling wants to see us,” Alistair announces. His face is pale, tie crooked, blood still on his collar. For once, he looks less like a polished heir and more like the scared little snake he is.
“Tell him to choke on a bullet,” I mutter, grabbing a clean tank and pulling it over my head.
Dalton snorts. “Please. You think he doesn’t already gag every time your name comes up?”
Raze steps between us before I can respond. “Let’s get this over with before Priest snaps your neck.”
I don’t argue. Not because I agree—but because if I stay here any longer, I fuckingwillsnap his neck.
The double doors to the Command Center swing open, and I step in first.
Sterling’s already seated, flanked by his Commanders, Whitney and Mercer. The three of them look like a goddamn wall of rot.
“Sit,” Sterling says, his voice sharper than usual. I stay standing.
Dalton and Alistair take their seats like good little lapdogs. Raze leans against the wall, arms crossed.
