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Barely feeling the sharp shards of drywall striking my skin, I pummel Sandivar in the stomach, then the face, and he punches back, hitting my still bruised jaw.
Ow. I felt this one.
Where’s Layla? A quick glance to the right shows her to be in the hold of one of the men, struggling, blood running from a cut on her cheek. She kicks the man in the shin and manages to push away from him. Then she has nowhere else to go and curls up in the corner.
Jesus.
I need Sandivar to get the others to stop. Rook was insistent on this, and he was right. They are pawns. He’s the knight, if not the king.
So I draw back and go for my other blade, but before I can slide it out, I see another guy lifting his gun, pointing at Layla—and this time a howl bursts out of me.
No.
Ducking under Sandivar’s arm, I grab his legs and throw him down, then catapult myself at Layla. At the very last second, I have the presence of mind to not crush her completely, bowing over her—and several shots go off at once.
My body jerks before the pain hits. One. Two. Three times.
Three bullets.
Fire burns into my back, my chest, filling me up until I can’t breathe. I can’t draw air, my body bowing, coming apart, shattering.
“Layla,” I choke out her name, but it’s barely audible.
Then I’m falling on her, into her, and she’s sobbing my name as I sink into her scent and warmth, darkness sweeping over me in a great calm wave.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Layla
I thought I knew fear and desperation before, but I didn’t. There’s nothing like watching the man you love getting shot in the back and collapsing to the floor to put things into perspective.
I love him. Like I’ve never loved anyone else.
And he’s dead. Dead trying to save me.
Whispering my name.
I can’t breathe. A sob is caught in my throat. He came back for me. Was going to give himself u
p for my freedom. And died saving my life.
He does care about me. All this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t run away instead of staying to talk, and now…
I’m holding on to his slack body that’s slumped over me, my heart hammering in my chest. I think I’ve run out of tears, because although I feel them burning the back of my throat, they never come.
We’re all going to die, I think, and try to see Dorothy. A guy has her pinned to the wall, and she’s still, so still I can’t tell if she’s alive or dead in his hold.
Dorothy…
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I’ll never talk to my mom again, never see my friends at college. Never kiss Hawk again.
Oh God, I’m sorry. I’m—
The apartment door bursts open and men in dark uniforms step in, holding big automatic guns. Their sleek helmets gleam.
The fight with Sandivar and his men is very brief. I think the shock of seeing them come in was their downfall. They stared for a moment, like I did, and in those precious seconds, the uniformed men disarmed everyone.
