My lungs burn and Sisk’s fingers slip from mine.
I give it the only thing that matters, a thought born of desperation and hope. “Because I’m a St. Clair.”
For one suspended heartbeat, I think this is the end. The tar crawls over my mouth and forces itself inside me. I choke, black sludge sliding down my throat and burrowing deep beneath my ribs.
But then the tar recoils. The pressure releases and the grip loosens. I gasp for air, and the second I realize I can move, I shove Sisk upward with everything I have left. We fight our way through the tar, struggling but gaining ground, until hands grab her from above—Lou, Fiona, Bear, whoever finally found the nerve to get close. They haul her out.
YOU WILL OBEY.The voice says inside my brain as something unseen shoves upward beneath me.OR SHE WILL PAY.
The tar releases me, not gently, but expels me. I claw over the crumbling edge, coughing with my lungs on fire while black sludge pours off my clothes like I’m shedding skin.
I collapse onto the solid ground, every muscle screaming, for a moment that’s all there is—the ragged sound of my own breathing and Sisk’s beside me.We’re alive, and that’s the only thought my brain can process. We’re alive.
Next to me, Sisk is in shock, while Lou helps her, reminding her to breathe.
I’m struggling to get back to myself, and when I finally manage, I notice they’re all staring at me—Dean included—and the look on their faces says it all—they think it’s all my fault.
I look back and realize Ivan is gone and I was the last one holding him. A part of me wants to say I feel something, anything I can use to explain what happened and fight for my innocence, although I’m not sure of it myself. Yet, I can’t because my focus isn’t on them; it’s on the thing beneath us, deep and awake, and on the fact that my bargain with it has only just begun.
PART III
THEN — SISK’S POV
NOW — JAX’S POV
Forty-Eight
Unknown
“Get out of my head.”
NO.
“I did everything you asked.”
NOT EVERYTHING.
“I can’t breathe.”
YOU CAN.
“Please…”
THAT’S THE BARGAIN.
“I already paid.”
NOT ENOUGH.
“Fine. Just give me time.”
NOT FOR YOU TO CHOOSE ANYMORE.
“…what?”
THE LIFE.
Silence.
