I don't have a choice. My ankle won't support me, and Tank is already half-carrying me toward the stairs. Behind us, Logan curses as someone helps him up. Voice thick with pain, but alive. Victor stands on his own, walking on my other side. He doesn't touch me, but he positions his body between me and what's left of the fighting.
Every step is agony. The warehouse above is chaos. Bodies on the ground, mercenaries subdued or fled. Iron Wolves everywhere. Leather cuts and hard faces.
We stop to let me and Logan catch our breath.
“Come on. Emma's waiting for you in the car.” Tank nudges me forward.
I grab him by the shoulder. “What the fuck do you mean she's outside? You brought her here?”
He shakes me off easily. “I didn't bring her. She allowed me to accompany her.”
CHAPTER 46
THE SHIELD
EMMA
The first hintof dawn bleeds across the horizon. A thin line of grey against black sky. I've been staring at it for what feels like hours, fingers drumming against my thigh, heart in my throat.
The warehouse sits maybe two hundred feet away. A hulking shadow broken only by the dim glow of a few working street lamps. The rest are dead, bulbs shattered or burnt out long ago. This part of the city was abandoned years ago. Left to rot. The perfect place to make someone disappear.
I hate that I know that now.
Two prospects stand guard outside the Jeep, their bikes parked nearby. They haven't said a word to me since Tank left, just positioned themselves like statues, watching the warehouse, watching the road. I don't even know their names.
Inside, somewhere in that concrete nightmare, Kai is fighting for his life.
And I'm sitting in a car.
My nails dig into my palms. Tank told me to stay put. Told me I'd only be in the way, that I'd distract Kai, that the best thing I could do was wait.
I hate waiting. I've spent my whole life waiting. Waiting for things to get better, waiting for people to change, waiting for permission to live.
I'm so fucking tired of waiting.
Gunfire echoes from inside the warehouse, muffled but unmistakable. I flinch, whole body going rigid. The prospects exchange a look but don't move.
I press my forehead against the window. The shots and shouting continue.
Please be okay. Please, please be okay.
The minutes stretch like hours. The grey light spreads, eating away at the darkness.
My eyes are adjusting to the light when a side door opens. A figure emerges. A woman in a cream coat, blonde hair wild, clutching a leather bag to her chest. Behind her, two men in tactical gear, weapons drawn.
Helena Hammond.
I check the door, but it's shut again. No one is after her. She's running away.
My heart stops, then slams back to life, pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears. She's going to disappear. Kai will never get justice.
No.I'm not going to let that happen. I don't know what she's done or how involved she's been, but he deserves better than his mother running away like a thief.
The driver's seat is empty. Tank left the keys in the ignition. I slide over the console, hip banging against the gearshift, turn the key. The engine roars to life.
One of the prospects shouts something, but I'm already moving. The Jeep lurches forward, tires screaming against cracked asphalt. Helena and her guards are climbing into a black sedan parked near the fence.
I press the accelerator.
