A door opens behind her. One I didn’t see, hidden in the wall paneling. A whole fucking secret passage we never spotted.
Three people in tactical medical gear rush through. Gurney, medical supplies, moving with professional efficiency.
We really underestimated this crazy bitch.
They’re on me immediately. Cutting away my pants, examining the wound, starting an IV line. One of them is packing the bullet hole with gauze while another checks my vitals.
“Blood pressure’s dropping,” one says. “We need to move him now.”
They lift me onto the gurney, strapping me down. My vision is tunneling, everything going grey at the edges.
As they wheel me past Aria, I see her expression.
She’s smiling. Not triumphant. Not cruel.
Almost... adoring.
Like she just won something precious.
It pisses me off more than anything else that’s happened today. More than the bullet in my leg. More than the blood loss. More than trading myself for my family’s safety.
Because all I can see is how broken she made Parker. How Parker’s screams are still echoing in my head even though I can’t hear them anymore. How she sobbed against Jace’s chest while they carried her away from me.
That sound. Parker’s crying. Parker’s screaming. Parker breaking apart because of what Aria forced me to do.
That’s what will haunt me.
Not the pain. Not the blood. Not whatever Aria plans to do with me.
The sound of Parker crying as they took her away.
The medics wheel me through the secret passage. The door closes behind us, cutting off the light from the interrogation room.
And I’m swallowed by darkness.
52
PARKER
Idon’t remember getting into the SUV.
One moment I’m screaming, fighting against Jace’s hold as they carry me away from Silas. The next I’m in the back seat, Jace on one side, Cal on the other, and there’s a sharp pinch in my arm.
Cal’s voice, soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry, angel. You need to calm down before you hurt yourself.”
The world goes fuzzy around the edges. Not gone, just... muted. Like someone turned down the volume on everything.
I’m not sure if I’m numb because of whatever Cal injected me with or because I just watched the man I love trade himself to save us.
Probably both.
My hands are still covered in Silas’s blood. It’s dried now, cracking across my palms, under my fingernails. I should wash it off. Should care that I’m covered in blood.
I don’t.
Jace is holding my hand. Has been since they put me in the vehicle. His thumb stroking over my knuckles in slow, steady circles. Cal has his arm around my shoulders, his other hand at the back of my neck, fingers gently massaging the tension there.
They’re trying to hold me together.
