“What the fuck are you all doing?” Sawyer screams, whipping from side to side, brandishing his gun at his men.
Ella has disappeared inside, but there’s no telling if the house is empty.
“Guy, go with Ella,” I say.
The men who restrained us when Asha appeared take a step back. It appears even they have a line, but I’m not exactly going to fucking thank them for it when they could have saved Y, too.
Guy looks at me, at my gunshot wound that hurts like a bitch, but doesn’t appear to be life threatening because I’m still standing. “What about you?”
“Just go,” I hiss. “She needs you.”
He hesitates, just for a second, and Sawyer watches with disbelief as Guy runs into the house, past the man that allowed Asha to live.
My attention moves to Gable and the pool of blood he’s in. He took two bullets saving Ella, but I don’t know where.I know he needs help, though. I go to move, but Sawyer whips around to look at me, raising his gun.
“Silence,” I say, ignoring him. “You’re a nurse, right?”
She’s kneeling by Y’s body, holding his hand, her face wet with tears. She’s almost totally still, but for her thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of his hand. Her expression is … vacant. Lost.
“She’s not going anywhere!” Sawyer shouts, as if he has any control anymore.
I keep my attention on Silence. “Silence, Gable needs help.” She doesn’t move. “Silence!” She blinks, her slow, empty gaze meeting mine. I swallow. “I’m sorry about Y. I’m so, so sorry. But Gable is dying.” With slow movements, she looks over at Gable. “He has a family who needs him and you can do something. Please.”
I could help. I’ve treated my own wounds, and I could do something. Not as much as she could, but I’m capable.
But I need her with him so I can focus on Sawyer.
His men might not be cool with killing kids, but they won’t exactly risk their lives to protect us. They laughed while we played Russian roulette, so I can’t count on them doing a damn thing if Sawyer decides to shoot Silence or me.
Silence leans down and kisses Y’s cheek, whispering something before placing his hand gently on his chest.
And she stands.
“Sit the fuck down!” Sawyer shouts, lunging forward and seizing her hair. Silence lets out a cry, her hands flying to his. He drags her to her knees at his side, his gun still pointed at me.
“It’s over, Sawyer,” I say, and he focuses on me. His blue eyes are wide, skin slick with sweat as the tables slowly turnon him. “You failed.” He’s trembling, his entire composure crumbling before my eyes, and I soak it in. I bask in it. The man who stood at my sister’s funeral and cried fake tears. The man who held her down. The man who pushed her to an awful decision. “You’re supposed to be a Sinclair. You’re supposed to be a God. And look at you. Even your men have turned against you.” He’s close to twitching, and my heart races as Gable’s life ticks away. He might already be dead. So, I go for the jugular. “What are your family going to say?” I step forward, and his eyes are impossibly wide. I smirk. “What will Silas say?”
That’s what does it.
The mention of his brother. The eldest Sinclair. If Sawyer is a monster, Silas created him, and the stories I’ve heard about the most powerful brother have kept me awake at night. Disappointing him won’t be an option for Sawyer.
He shoves Silence aside, and as she scrambles to get to Gable, Sawyer goes for me.
The space between us is eaten up in a few steps, but he forgets he isn’t dealing with Lina Fox right now.
He’s facing Monty fucking Reid.
I side-step, turning, and as he stumbles by me, I bring my knee up and smash the bottom of my shoe into the back of his knee. He goes down, hitting the patio, turning in time for me to throw a punch. My knuckles meet his cheekbone, and he doesn’t go down from the hit, but it does surprise him enough for me to go for the discarded revolver.
A hand wraps around my ankle and I’m yanked off my feet.
I shout in frustration as my fingers graze the revolver. Sawyer flips me onto my back and I kick out, my other foot connecting with his chest. He seizes both ankles and drags me across the patio until he’s kneeling between my thighs.
“Well, isn’t this familiar?” He croons, releasing my feet and catching my wrists as I punch and slap. “Another Fox girl between my legs. I wonder if you’ll squeal like she did?” Nausea and anger roil through me, and I scream in his face. “I wonder if you’ll fight as hard as she did when I tossed her off that fucking hotel roof.” My screams disappear. A cold, violent shiver grips me as I stare up at him, tears almost blurring my vision. He leans close, spittle in the corner of his mouth as he grins. “She called for you, y’know. Screamed for you. Your name was her last word.”
Ava. My big sister. My best friend.
Torn from this world by this piece of shit.
