Page 123 of Pretty Savage: Defy

“I’m not the one who was fighting. Are you all right?” I pause, my ribs constricting. “Is Carrson?”

Sam lowers herself to the floor and rests her back against the wall. With her knees bent and her arms draped over them, she releases a weary breath, like this is the first time she’s had to rest since I last saw her. “He’s alive. His injuries healed.”

I bolt upright. “Injuries!”

“Nothing life-threatening.” She raises one hand before I can interrupt again. “He was shot in the arm, and part of the ceiling came down on him. Thom healed the worst of it.”

The words should reassure me, but my mind catches on the image of Carrson bleeding while I sat underground, unable to reach him.

“Is it over?”

“Yes.” Her head hangs. “A bunch of Jackals are dead, but a lot escaped too. Carrson's interrogating the two who were captured.”

“Interrogating? You mean torturing,” I say.

She looks at me, the perfect circle of light from the flashlight reflected in her eyes. “He has a rare talent for getting people to talk. They’ve kept him locked in a bedroom with them. He can’t leave until he gets to the bottom of what happened.”

I read between the lines. She’s trying to explain why she’s here instead of Carrson, but I can’t tell if what she’s saying is the truth or if she’s just trying to appease me.

“Carrson already figured out that Silas bought the catering company years ago,” Sam continues. “Patrice, the event coordinator, remember her?”

I nod.

“She hired the company, but we can’t blame her. It was legitimate. Silas kept it that way until the ball, then sent his own men in as the staff.” She shakes her head. “Talk about playing the long game. He waited until every Mother and Father worth killing was under one roof. Carr and Jack are already busy figuring out how to cover up the deaths.”

“Did the others make it? Abbie, Cicley, Thomson?”

I need to hear their names. I need to know how many people are dead.

“They’re alive.” Sam’s fingers curl around the fabric over her knees. “We lost others. Hannah. Sampson. Mason. Wesleyson—”

“Wesleyson? But he was just with us.”

“I know. About fourteen Brothers and Sisters died, along with more adults. We were luckier than them because most of the younger generation had already left. Some snuck into the woods to have sex, went to private parties or clubs like we did, or passed out somewhere safe.”

“It’s my fault.” I bury my face in my hands. “I saw Silas earlier that night. He was dressed as a server, and I didn’t warn anyone. I thought he was alone. I didn’t believe he was a threat.”

I thought I had exhausted every tear my body could produce, but they return fast enough to blur her face. I am terrified of losing Carrson’s love, but the thought of losing Sam and the others hurts in a different place. They’ve become the family I never expected to find here. Sisters I chose, even if The Order insists choice has nothing to do with belonging.

“I know,” Sam says.

She rubs her hands over her arms, trying to warm them.

“Mother told me. I told Abbie, Cicley, and Thomson, but no one else. Carr has kept it contained. Even Jack hasn’t announced it.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because information is more valuable when only one person has it.” Bitterness enters her voice. “He’ll save it until using it hurts Carrson the most.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I was furious when I heard.” Sam keeps her eyes on the floor. “Part of me still is. Fourteen of us are dead, Laurel. I understand that you didn’t know what Silas was planning, but I wish you had said something.”

Her honesty hurts, although not as much as an easy forgiveness would have.

“Mother and I talked about it. She reminded me that you weren’t raised the way we were. You don’t enter every room counting exits and wondering which person might be there to kill you. You weren’t taught to see every stranger as a threat.”

“I should have known better.”