Because he knows. Heknowsexactly what I gave him.
I don’t move, don’t rush, don’t panic. I just… watch. My breath slows again, controlled and measured.
His gaze locks onto mine. Panic bleeding through the control for the first time.
I push myself up slightly, back against the bench, looking down at him. “What’s wrong?” I ask quietly.
His throat works but no sound comes out. His chest struggles again, air not moving the way it should.
I tilt my head, studying him.
“Can’t breathe?” I continue, voice low and steady.
His eyes widen further.
“Can’t move?” I add.
His fingers twitch uselessly against the floor.
“Can’t scream?”
The rig is silent aside from the sound of his own failing breath.
I hold his gaze. I don’t dare look away. I don’t soften. Because this is what he did to them. Every single one of them.
“You don’t get to walk away from this,” I say, not loud or angry. Just… final.
Outside, the gunfire is still going on. Shouts, orders, and chaos.
But inside the ambulance, it’s over.
And for the first time since I became aware of the trafficking ring, probably since the whole ring was started, he isn’t in control.
Chapter 47
Liv
I don’t know how long I sit there. It could be seconds. It could be minutes. Time doesn’t feel real anymore, like it might snap if I move too fast. The gunfire outside fades first. Not all at once but in pieces. A shot here. Another there. Then shouted commands and boots hitting pavement. Until… silence.
My ears ring and my hands won’t stop shaking no matter how hard I squeeze them together. I stare at him. At the man on the floor beside me who used to feel… unstoppable.
Now it’s just still, heavy, and empty.
The syringe is still on the floor somewhere, wherever it dropped. I’m not going to try to find it yet because I don’t dare look away from him. I can’t. I’m still not entirely convinced that the omnipotent threat that’s been overshadowing my life and controlling the city for so long is down. Is dead.
And that I did it.
“Police!” a voice shouts from outside. “If anyone’s inside, make yourself known!”
My throat tightens. I can’t answer. I’m not ready for the world outside this ambulance, not ready for what comes after this.
Footsteps approach, closer now and slower. “Clear the front!”
Another voice, “watch your angles.”
The back doors jerk open making flashlight light flood in.
I flinch hard, my body reacting before my brain can catch up.
