A pause.
A rustle of fabric.
And then a question not directed to us, but to someone else entirely. “I fucking told you not to follow me!”
Another muffled voice spoke, but I couldn't detect it as I leaned closer to the comms device.
“Not another step! Simon?—”
Before I could process his words,a gut-churning detonation sounded. And then? The crackle of a disconnected line.
“Get them back,” I whispered, barely audible. I lifted my gaze to my father’s. “Get. Them.Back.”
“Send an emergency evac,” my father commanded, the men around him frantically working to follow orders. “It seems Thorne Graves has failed to keep his men safe yet again.”
That name… Ihatedthat name.
He went rogue and Simon… Simon…
Storming out of the office, I was unable to remain in my father’s presence, because he’d witnessed the last bit of weakness I would ever exude.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’tthink.
The walls were so fucking narrow that I used them to keep me standing.
Climbing… I was climbing through the hallways, looking for somewhere to collapse. My hand stumbled upon a doorknob, and I opened it, not even caring that it led to a supply closet.
I slammed the door, utter darkness enveloping me as I shattered.
I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to protect my friends, and they gothurt.
There was nothing I could do but wait.
Was Simon alive?
Did Thorne… Did he betray everyone?
The thoughts wouldn’t stop, not even when I scratched my arms enough to bleed—an old habit I thought I’d never return to.
Ringing punctured my ears, but it wasn’t as loud as the sound of Simon’s name being called.
Tears poured, the cover of darkness blanketing my final departure from who I used to be.
No.
I was going tokillThorne Graves because this…Allof it was his fault.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THORNE
My ears rang, every sense nullified by the incessant hum. Dust and debris clouded our surroundings, making it difficult to decipher where everyone had ended up. I knew I needed to move, needed to figure out what happened, but my body ached from the unrelenting explosion.
A mine. Simon had stepped on a mine.
“Shit,” I hissed, struggling to push myself onto my side. A flare of white hot agony shot through me, and I glanced down, crimson greeting me.
I’d been hit by some form of debris, the anguish beyond comparable to a gunshot wound.
