I glance down at my hand and grit my teeth at how fucking deep the cut is.“It’s going to need gluing, for fuck’s sake.”Isaac’s lips twitch, and I glare at him.“Not a fucking word.”
“It had to be you,” he teases, and has to look away, probably to stop himself from laughing.
“This way,” Liam orders, not waiting to see if we are following.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Max share a look with Maverick.If I had to guess what it means, I’d say they are worried for their friend.They went to school together, have known each other most of their lives.They know him better than us.
Unlike the east wing, where furniture has been left, the building frozen in time, this side has been ripped bare.Repairs have already begun in places, like the foundation hadn’t been safe.Rebars have been left haphazardly where joists have been moved.
What has my attention is the cables running up the walls into the floor above us.Liam points to a set of stairs, where a lone door sits at the top.
The sound of a television quietly echoes along the quiet hall, and we all hear it.Fucking hell.This is it.This ends here.
Liam is the first to hit the stairs, racing up them.We all follow at a similar pace, all of us eager for the same thing.
To end Andrew Black once and for all.
The door smacks into the wall as Liam pushes it open.My eyes widen.There’s a whole open-spaced flat in here, but my attention is on the man who is standing behind the desk, throwing things into the rucksack he has on the mahogany desk in front of him.A door is behind him, which seems so out of place when there are windows showing the trees and blue sky outside on either side.
He doesn’t even seem surprised to see us.The gruesome scar that runs along the right side of his face makes me wish I had been there when Mina carved the knife into his face and part of his neck.I bet he squealed like a fucking pig.And by the looks of it, now months later, he clearly never got it seen to properly because the scar is fucking ugly.
“We meet again,” he greets, zipping up the bag.He’s wearing suit fucking trousers and a white dress shirt.I narrow my gaze, gritting my teeth as I take him in.I had hoped over the past few months that he was hiding away in some sewer or run-down house.Not living it up in an abandoned hospital, looking like he was getting ready for a zoom meeting.If it wasn’t for the fact I just walked through most of the building, I would think we were in a five-star hotel.
It makes me sick to see he’s been living like this whilst Mina has been living in fear.
“It will be the last time,” Liam growls, and waves of anger roll off him.So much so, I do a double take.I’ve never seen him like this.Sweat is pouring down the sides of his face, his jaw is clenched.His hands form fists at his sides, or they do until he pulls a knife out of his back pocket, flicking it open.
Black arches an eyebrow.“If you say so.I am surprised to see you walking.I thought for sure my men broke your spine,” he taunts.“It was like a lullaby listening to you scream.”Black smirks as he runs his gaze over the rest of us.“Did he tell you how he begged for them to stop?Cried like a baby.”
“No,” Isaac yells when Liam rushes at Black.
For a fraction of a second, my mind wonders why he would stop him.Then in the next fraction, it happens, and I move, my eyes widening in horror because I see what my brother does.
He pushes Liam out of the way as a hatch at his feet opens.I’m already diving to my stomach, sliding across the hardwood floor, reaching out to my brother, my twin.
I grip his hand.Liam’s foot hits me in the face as he lays half on the floor, half in the hole in the floor.
Isaac’s hand clutches mine, and I stupidly let myself hope.I hiss out when the pressure of his grip causes blood to gush from the cut on my hand.
“Isaac,” Jaxon yells, bending down next to me.
“Get him,” I scream.
Because his hand is slipping.His fingers dig into my flesh, and my gut clenches because it’s pointless.It’s too slippery.“Don’t let me go,” Isaac wheezes, trying to reach up to Jaxon with his other hand.
“Oh God,” I groan, because neither I nor Isaac has a good grip on each other.
Jaxon reaches Isaac, his fingertips brushing his arm.But it’s too late.Despite gripping on to him with all that I can, for wanting to pull him up with all my might, it isn’t enough.
He falls, his arms outstretched, his eyes wide as he looks up at me.The drop isn’t high, but hitting his head from this height...it could kill him.
A hoarse cry slips past my lips as one of the rebars impales his side, soaking his white T-shirt in cherry red.I push Jaxon out of the way and get to my feet before racing out of the little home Black has made for himself.I hit the concrete stairs located not far away and practically jump down them.My heart is racing.I can feel the blood pumping through my veins.
Isaac doesn’t move as I reach the floor he’s on, moving through rows of rebars sticking up.My vision blurs and black spots appear as I drop down next to him.“Isaac,” I quaver.
The bar has impaled his left side.My hands shake as I press down on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
I lift my shoulder, wiping my cheeks from either sweat or tears when it becomes too hard to see.“Call an ambulance.Tell them we need the fire brigade too,” I yell, because we can’t move him, not without risking more blood loss or hitting something—unless it already has.
