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She doesn’t move.
“BACK. UP.”
It’s only when he aims the gun at me that she drops my arms. Tears bead in her eyes as she pulls away from me, her face going even paler.
“Don’t you dare fucking hurt him,” she chokes.
Jonas just chuckles as he grabs my arm again and yanks, making me groan as a fresh surge of pain floods over me.
“No promises,” he snickers, dragging me by the arm after him out the door.
“We’re going to go play a game, Mal,” Jonas snarls, his voice dripping with malice. “We’ll see how long you last.”
My head twists, and I lock eyes with Freya for one second.
Then the door slams shut behind us, sealing me away from the people I came to save. The darkness closes in once again, and all I can hear is Jonas’ twisted laughter.
47
FREYA
There’sa split second as Jonas is dragging Mal through the door that I freeze.
There’s too much to worry about.
Hana, lying stunned and bleeding on the ground. Kir, who looks barely an hour away from death.
Mal, being dragged to God-knows-where by that psychopath.
But before I can wrench myself out of my frozen state, a shape suddenly goes tumbling and crashing past me.
Oh God.
Kir lurches across the floor, launching himself forward onto the ground and reaching out. At the last second, just as the door is about to click and lock shut, Kir’s fingers curl desperately into the doorframe.
“Kir!” I scream, rushing toward him.
His grip on the door falters for a moment before he catches it, wedging his hand into the crack. He grunts as the door slams on his fingers. But it doesn’t close.
He’s deathly pale, his skin translucent and waxy, sweat streaming from his brow. But he holds the door open, even though his strength—and his consciousness—is fading fast.
“Go,” he croaks, barely focusing on me as he slumps to the ground.
I quickly grab a small chunk of concrete off the ground, wedging it into the door before I gently release his fingers. I ease Kir onto his back, tears in my eyes as I take his hands and kneel next to him.
“Freya…go?—”
“I’m not fucking leaving you here,” I spit, my heart wrenching as I glance down at his side.God, it looks terrible. And there’s fresh brownish red blood seeping into his filthy shirt.
“Freya, you need to…” He wheezes. “You need to go help Mal.”
My heart breaks. I hesitate, torn between the need to help Kir and the panic rising inside me about Mal. Kir’s eyes find mine, locking onto me with a fierce intensity, even though pain is etched into every line of his face.
The look he gives me says everything we haven’t had time to say in the last few days. In this moment, all the doubt and disbelief when the voice on the loudspeaker told me Kir is my father crashes down as we look at each other.
None of that matters. All I see is Kir, the man who’s been my father in every way that counts. The man who saved me from an aimless life and gave me a new purpose.
“When we get out of here…” Kir growls quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, “and wewill…you and I, Freya, will have a long conversation about a lot of things,” he croaks.
