Panic pressed at the edges of my vision, tight and suffocating, clawing its way up my throat. I’d sworn I’d never get on my knees for anyone again.
Never show that kind of weakness.
Never give anyone that power.
Glancing at Violet one last time, I dropped to my knees.
Chapter 60
Violet
Ryder’s shoulders were tight, his breath unsteady. I could see the panic he was trying to swallow down, every muscle trembling beneath the weight of a past I didn’t understand.
He looked like a man ripping open his own chest and offering his heart, all while mine shattered.
“Ryder…” I whispered, his name breaking apart on my tongue. “Don’t.”
He’d been beaten so badly, blood dripping steadily from his hairline, and his left eye was almost entirely swollen shut.
“You can do whatever you want with me,” he said, voice rough, deeper than usual, but still steady. “You can hurt me. Sell me. Kill me.”
“STOP!” I managed to scream. I wanted to crawl to him, stop him from making this mistake. “PLEASE!”
He lifted his chin just enough to make sure everyone heard him. “Just let Violet go.”
It took me a moment to process his words, and when I did it was like a punch to the chest. Because he meant them. Every single one.
He was exchanging his life for mine.
Ryder kneeled there broken, bruised, and yet he was still choosingme.
“Pathetic,” Caretaker said with a sneer. “A real man never kneels.” Swinging his arm, he pointed the gun at Ryder and pulled the trigger.
“NO!” I choked, scrambling toward him on shaking hands. My dress tore beneath me, my knees scraping across the ground. But I didn’t care, didn’t even feel it.
All I could see was Ryder collapsing sideways, his body jerking from the impact.
“No, no, no,” I chanted like a prayer, crawling despite my bound wrists, refusing to stop until I was beside him. My hands immediately found the wound, pressing down to stop the blood.
Fingers clamped around my upper arm and dragged me upright so abruptly that my whole body jolted.
“Get off!” I shrieked, throwing my weight backward, kicking, clawing, anything to break free. But Caretaker’s grip only locked tighter.
“We have a plane to catch,” he grunted, unfazed when my elbow slammed into his ribs just as Jürgen aimed his own weapon at Ryder’s head.
“Please,” I gasped, the word torn out of me. “Let him get medical attention, and I’ll go, willingly.”
“Blondie,” Ryder groaned. “No.”
“I won’t fight,” I continued, begging. “I won’t run. I’ll do whatever you want. Just… just let me help him.”
Caretaker gripped my chin, forcing me to turn away. “Do you think you’re in any position to bargain?” he asked, tone almost amused. “You think you matter here?”
I shook my head, or tried to, but his grip made movement impossible.
“Please,” my voice cracked. “He needs help, or he’ll die.”
“That’s the point.” Caretaker tilted his head. “Maybe now you’ll understand your place.”
