When we took out marks, it was always me going in by myself. Whenever she asked to join me, I always said no, too scared in case I lost her. When I look at her now, I don’t think I had anything to ever worry about.
“You okay?” I whisper, leaning up close to hear her response as the leaves roar louder in the wind.
She turns, nodding her head. “Never thought my first time would be like this.”
My lips tilt at the corners. “Technically it’s mine too. At least we’re together.”
Malcolm, Rex and Dawson are just a couple of feet ahead of us, crouched behind the trees as they wait for the signal to go in.
“What’s it like?” Regina asks, her thumb grazing over the rifle in her hand.
If she’d asked me the same questions weeks ago, I’d probably have given her a different answer. Fluffed it to mask who I really am deep down.
Echoes of gurgles, skin bleaching white and fear diluting eyes fills me. I’ve had a taste of what real revenge feels like, and now I don’t think I’ll ever change my mind.
I hold her gaze as I answer, “Liberating.”
The woodland around us has dipped in complete darkness from when we first set off, all bar the lights ahead beaming down and illuminating the horizontal rain. It feels like it’s growing heavier by the minute.
My legs are cramping up from the time we’ve spent huddled in our hiding spot, and if my dad could see me now, I know he’d be appalled.
“How much longer?” I ask, my bones letting off a rattle with the cold and the anticipation. Saint’s only hundreds of feet away, and God knows what they’re doing to him right now.
For the first time in my life, I’m ready for some bloodshed. I don’t want to feel the relief that once graced me after I took one of them down. I want to be laced with the unforgivable high.
“Any minute now,” Dawson answers, pressing his finger into his earpiece.
They have a group working their way up the trails, and it’s the reason we’ve been sitting here for so long. The road up is long and tortuous, and cameras are hidden within the treeline. They’ve been blocking them to avoid any detection.
I can see why Clarke chose this place; anyone who ever manages to escape will either get caught running, or die before they make it to civilization with the elements.
Just as I go to shift and get more comfortable, everything plunges into black.
It sounds like a distant thunder rumbles in the air, but when the awareness of everyone standing up sounds around me, I follow the sound of Dawson's voice. “They’re down, cameras are cut. Let’s go.”
32
Saint
work song - hozier
“Comeon,Saint.Ipromise to leave you alone if you give me something. Hell, a tear would even pacify me.”
If I ever get out of these chains, I’m ripping that bastard’s tongue out and shoving it down his brother’s throat, then tying it to his intestine.
The metal tightens against my already burning wrists. Ropes of liquid red slink around my arms in different patterns, and my feet jolt off the ground as they clank above, just enough that my boots hover above the floor on my toes.
George snickers. “Lift him again. I think he’s close.”
I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting this dickhead properly until he shot and stabbed me. He’s fucking insufferable. That’s saying something, seeing as Conrad’s been acting like an unmedicated asylum escapee.
It’s fitting, seeing as that appears to be where I’ve been spending my fucking days. I’ve lost count of how long I’ve been in here, wherever the fuck it is.
Every day without fail, I’m awoken by a hose spraying cold water, dragged from my cell, and brought up to this room. White floors, white walls, and the stench is a mixture of chlorine and blood.
It definitely belonged to Clarke White.
Medical equipment lies scattered across the counters and open cabinets, a vast contrast to the metal table that holds an array of tools likely not licensed for the kind of practice it presented itself to the world. The bed nearest the window still has evidence of my bloodstains on it.
