She might as well have punched me in the face. Before I can respond, movement flashes in my peripheral vision. My heart stutters as I watch Rafe and Adela emerge from the side of the building like war incarnate, both of them streaked with blood, guns still raised.
They’re alive.
Relief crashes through me so hard my knees nearly give out. I hadn’t realized how tightly I was holding that fear inside, how convinced I was that at least one of them wasn’t coming back out. Adela’s gaze locks on us all standing there.
Jude turns at the sight of them, Adriana still clutching his arm. His breathing shifts, and then he pulls out his gun. It happens in a blink. One smooth, efficient motion.
He raises it, pointing it straight at Micah.
“No—” I breathe, but the word barely forms.
Micah goes completely still. His hands hover slightly at his sides, not reaching for his own weapon, not moving to defend himself. His face…it crumples. Not in fear.
In heartbreak.
“Jude,” he says quietly, voice cracking in a way I’ve never heard before. “Please.”
The barrel doesn’t waver. Jude’s expression is empty. Like his soul has burned away. His finger curls slightly against the trigger.
Adriana looks between them, confusion and horror twisting her features. “Jude, what are you doing?”
Micah swallows hard. I can see the shine in his eyes even in the low light. “It’s me,” he says. “You know me. I’m really here.”
Rafe shifts his stance, gun angled. Adela mirrors him on the opposite side. They’re ready.
“Hey,” I whisper, stepping forward despite the terror clawing at me. “Please.Lookat him.”
His eyes flicker. Just barely. Everything suddenly feels suspended, like I’m experiencing it all in slow motion, waiting to see if he kills his best friend like he almost just killed me. For one terrible second, I think he’s going to pull the trigger. My entire body goes cold.
Please please please—
Rafe exhales like he’s run out of patience with the entire universe. “Oh, for fuck's sake.”
The gunshot explodes before my brain can catch up.
I scream, and Jude staggers, collapsing to one knee. It takes me a fractured beat to understand that Rafe didn’t shoot to kill. He shot to drop him. Before Jude can recover or swing the gun back up, Rafe is already on him, driving the syringe into Jude’s neck with zero hesitation.
Adriana shrieks as a bullet ricochets off the shed behind us.
Micah lunges forward to disarm Jude fully, wrenching the gun from his grip as he struggles weakly, fury flashing in his eyes. He looksferal.
“Hold him,” Rafe snaps.
Jude sways, but before the sedative can drag him under completely, his hand shoots out and fists into Rafe’s collar, yanking him down with surprising strength. Their faces are inches apart.
Jude’s eyes burn. “Take her,” he forces out, voice thick and desperate. “Take her, too.” His gaze flicks toward Adriana.
He means...her.
Everything inside me freezes solid.
Why does he care about her? What…why?
Rafe doesn’t argue, and then Jude’s grip loosens, his body going slack.
Adriana’s head snaps back towards the mansion, where the blonde man is running towards us, a gun aimed in our direction. “Hurry! We need to go!”
“Move!” Rafe barks.
