by Amy Braun
“I told you I would bring you the men you wanted, and I have. I walk out of here with my freedom. You and your bastards stay away from me.”
My soon-to-be-ex-brothers glared at me. I didn’t move my eyes from Fletcher. The frown remained on his face. He didn’t want to let me leave. He wanted me as a plaything for his sons, a tool he could use whenever the mood struck. I would die before I let Fletcher or any of his men touch me, and that would only be after I broke as many of their bones as I could. I held my gaze with my self-imposed father, daring him to test me.
The tense moment passed. Fletcher’s next smile was almost sad. I would have found it pitiful if it didn’t disgust me.
“Two for the price of one. I can’t deny the strength of my newest sons,” Fletcher glanced back at the captive marauders, “or question the reputations that come with them.” He returned his gaze to me. “There comes a time when every parent needs to let their children strike out on their own.” He advanced another step. “Good luck, Gemma. I’m sad to see you go, but remember that you can always come back home to your family.”
Fletcher opened his arms to embrace me. I took three big steps back.
He didn’t mask his anger this time. If I hadn’t known better, I would say he was glad to see me go. No doubt he wanted to look for another woman who was a little more pliable.
My ex-father lowered his arms. I didn’t miss the way his hands tightened into fists at his side.
“On second thought, maybe it’s best you don’t return.”
I narrowed my eyes and growled, “I won’t.”
I turned away without another word. I didn’t look back, didn’t slow down. I didn’t even see where I was going until I reached the front door and shoved it open.
Cold rainwater slashed my face, cooling on my heated skin. I took a deep breath, then bolted to the left side of the Academy. I tucked behind the corner of the building and glanced around. A couple minutes passed before I spotted Tyler stepping out into the deluge. His head turned left and right as he searched for me. The fool didn’t look hard enough. Once he was satisfied, he turned into the Academy and disappeared from sight.
I relaxed, but only slightly. I pressed my back to the wall and shuffled along the side of the school until I was partially protected by the holly shrub and the broken overhang. I lifted my head and watched the Behemoth’s hovering shadow hovering over Westraven’s downtown heart, allowing a reckless, possibly suicidal plan fill my mind.
This would be a terrible plan, but if I pulled it off, Nash, Sawyer, and I would all be free.
If I couldn’t, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about Fletcher or my brothers touching me, because there would only be pieces of me left.
Chapter 9
Misdirection is crucial if you’re a thief. The best way to take something you want from your mark is to distract them. It’s a technique I’ve used countless times before, and it’s almost always worked. There are things that can’t always be accounted for, but I was certain this would do the trick.
After all, it’s impossible to miss a fire.
Creating one wasn’t easy. I had to leave my hiding spot by the holly shrub and run around the back of the Academy to the supply shed, where Fletcher locked away a small reserve of supplies. Nothing much, save for some packs of leathery rat meat, canteens of purified water, some rusted or broken tools…
And a can of gasoline and matches.
Using the lock pick hanging from the pendant around my throat, I opened the shed and rushed in. After I grabbed everything I could see, I cradled the bundle to my chest and ran back to the holly shrub. Because of the rain and the limited shelter of the damaged archway, it took some effort––as well as the entire bottle of gasoline and most of the matches––but I got the shrub lit. I fanned the flames as best as I could, then stepped away to let the shrub burn steadily.
As I backed up, I glanced at the Behemoth hanging in the sky. I couldn’t see any raiding skiffs yet, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t see the bright orange blaze sitting on the dark, rain-drenched ground. The Behemoth could see everything.
Not wanting to waste any time, I turned and barged for the back of the Academy. I took a running jump to the side and grabbed the top of a window ledge. I drew my foot up to a creaking floorboard propped in a window frame and pulled myself up. It wasn’t the first time I’d climbed the Academy this way, so I moved quickly. Though it was easy to find holds for my hands and feet, the hard part was keeping myself from slipping. Rain slicked the brick and cracked glass. The wooden boards on the windows threatened to buckle when I put on too much pressure. More than once, I glanced over my shoulder at the Behemoth. Still no signs of the Hellion raiding skiffs. At least the fire was burning steadily, thick plumes of smoke churning from the flames that were losing their fight with the rain.
By the time I reached the roof, Fletcher and his sons realized something was wrong. I could barely hear them from my height and the storm, but I recognized the shouting voices of Fletcher, Tyler, and Boyd. If Morris was there, I couldn’t hear him.
The argument could take a while. More than enough time for me to scrambled unnoticed across the roof to the hole in the ceiling, the one I always used to climb down.
I looked at the Behemoth. Two raiding skiffs had peeled off the bottom of the monstrous ship. Both were flying toward the Academy. Speeding, more accurately.
A nervous chuckle escaped my lips. Well, at least the plan worked.
Of course, now I had to survive being killed by the creatures I wanted to use as a distraction.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I lay on my stomach and peered down into the top level of the school. The hole in the ceiling sat over the main hallway and a couple classrooms with collapsed walls. It wasn’t a short drop, but I wasn’t afraid of it.
Not seeing Morris––or Nash or Sawyer for that matter––I swung my legs around and let my body slide through the ceiling. I bent my knees to avoid injuring my legs. My body pitched forward, so I threw myself into a roll rather than collapsing. Old, wet wood scraped my palms and scalp as I tumbled, but I wasn’t hurt. I jumped to my feet and dashed for the heap of splintered wood in the hallway. Broken glass and debris crunched under my boots. My hand went to my hip and curled around the hilt of a knife. I turned into the corridor, and saw nothing but old wreckage. Staying up here never seemed safe to Fletcher, and I was glad to see he hadn’t changed his mind recently. I sprinted toward the metal stairs on the right side of the hall. I slid to a stop before descending, crouching by a banister that was missing a few rungs, listening for clues about where Nash or Sawyer were. If any members of my ex-family were back inside.
Nothing. I had to move down.
Staying low and keeping a tight grip on the blade, I eased down the metal steps. Rainwater spilled in from the broken window on my right. I glanced outside it. I couldn’t hear or see anything, but I smelled smoke on the wind.
I had to assume the Hellions would be close now. It was the only way to speed this rescue up and make sure we were gone when they actually did arrive looking for a snack.
I glanced around the curve of the staircase. No one at the bottom. I moved quickly down the rest of the steps, not caring about the clanging of my boots on the steps. I swung onto the second level, right into the heart of the Academy’s foyer. The front doors were still open, which gave me hope that Fletcher, Tyler and Boyd were still outside. I knew better than to check.
Instead, I dashed down the dark, empty corridors behind me that would lead to the gymnasium.
I shoved open the doors to the cavernous space. Crates and blankets were spread lazily over the hardwood where Fletcher and his sons slept. The thief in my blood was aching to know what was in those crates, wondering how much I could carry before the owners came back.
But I pushed the old, bad habit away. It wasn’t my focus right now. Freeing Nash and Sawyer was. If I survived the next hour, maybe I would come back.
It’s not like I would have anyth
ing better to do.
My eyes found the narrow metal door in the far right corner of the gymnasium. The boiler room. It had been kicked to life when Fletcher claimed the Academy for his family, but the power was used sparingly. Though if Fletcher wanted to find somewhere to abuse his new prisoners with, that would be the place to do it in.
And Morris would be more than happy to start the breaking.
I didn’t stop running until I reached the door. I tested the doorknob, found it was open. I twisted, pulled, and stalked into darkness.
Machines, generators, and furnaces hummed below me. A dull orange glow came from the far right corner where a fire was burning, but then room was cold. Cables and wires created a maze over my head. Columns of clustered pipes and chunky machines blocked my view of the main furnace.
It wasn’t until I reached the floor that I heard the voices.
The mechanical hisses and steady whumps of the furnace obscured the words, but I recognized Morris’s sneering taunts and Sawyer’s sharp remarks. I couldn’t hear Nash. My heart began a stampede under my ribcage.
I started toward the glowing furnace. I squeezed between the pipes and shimmed into cover. It was a tight fit for even my slim frame, but I could still move. When I started to feel the heat of the furnace, I drew to a stop. Safely tucked into the shadows cast by the copper pipes, I lifted my head and found my marks.
Sawyer was on his feet, his arms and legs bound with chains that held him against a set of pipes by the massive coal furnace. Sweat soaked his hair, face, and shirt. Blood dribbled down from the cut on his lower lip and an ugly bruise circled his right eye.
He was banged up, but not as badly as Nash.
The large man was shackled at the wrists, hanging from the copper pipes on the ceiling. His head hung down to his chest. I spotted an open cut on his cheek and another on the bridge of his nose.
I also saw the piece of scorched shirt and skin on his ribs.
Rage boiled in my blood as I looked at Morris. The thug’s sleeves were rolled up and he was wearing welding gloves. In his right hand was a fire-poker with a coal black tip. The look on his face reminded me of a bully who’d just been given an animal to torture.
“This isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Morris said. “We all went through it. Fletcher made us stronger by doing this.”
“Torture made you stronger?” Sawyer asked with thinly veiled fury. “I guess I can see that. But maybe all flunkies are as stupid as you.”
Morris laughed. Then he swung the fire-poker into Nash’s stomach.
The hard metal struck him with a sharp thud. He gasped as the air was punched out of him, coughing as he tried to get it back. Pain contorted his face and cut into my soul.
I shook against the bars and dug my fingers into the knife’s handle.
“I’m not the one stupid one,” Morris chided. “After all, you’re the one who trusted that bitch.”
Sawyer went silent, but his eyes were like volcanoes exploding with molten hatred. All of it meant for me.
Morris twirled the fire-poker in his hand.
“I wanted to screw her, sure, but I never trusted her. Always running away, never looking out for anyone but herself, never knowing how good she has it until she’s on her own. That’s Gemma. Still, I’m not happy that Fletcher let her go before I got a piece of her,” he curled both hands around the poker and grinned, “so I’ll just have to amuse myself another way.”
I tossed my knife through the bars in front of me. It clattered on the grate flooring behind Morris. Both he and Sawyer stared in its direction. Nash didn’t move.
Morris lowered the poker and walked toward my blade. I watched him like a predator in the long grass, slipping out of the pipes when he reached it. I crept up behind him as he knelt down, using the poker to prop himself up.
“Careful what you wish for,” I snarled.
Morris whirled around, his eyes going wide when he saw me. I didn’t give him a chance to move. I kicked the fire-poker away from him. As Morris toppled, I flipped the fire-poker up with the curve of my boot. I caught it with one hand as he scrambled for my knife. I slashed down with the poker, striking Morris in the temple. The metal made a sickening crack as it connected with his skull. He toppled onto his side, unconscious.
Maybe even dead.
I forced that thought from my mind and rushed to grab my knife, not looking twice at Morris’ body. I turned and ran for Sawyer. I didn’t pause to look at his face. There was no time.
I grabbed the pendant from my neck and slipped behind him. I quickly worked on the lock holding his arms and legs in place. “You know where your weapons are?” I asked.
Rather than answer me, Sawyer looked to his left. When I followed his gaze, I saw a familiar pistol and cutlass. Both hilts had skulls with gleaming black stone eyes and wide, silver smiles.
“I need you to help me get Nash down,” I went on. My hands started to shake as I worked the final lock. “I can’t hold him.”
I blinked away the tears threatening to build when I pulled the final chain from Sawyer’s ankle. He marched to his weapons while I sprinted for Nash. I swung in front of him and gently cradled his face.
“Nash? Nash, can you hear me?”
He groaned and leaned into my hands. Tears built up again.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
I pulled his face to mine and kissed him. It was a fast but gentle kiss, the only one I would ever have. Nothing I did would ever make up for the hurt I caused him, but the least I could do was show him that I did care.
I took a deep breath and memorized his scent, his taste, the feel of his lips on mine. I wanted to know what I was losing.
When I opened my eyes, Nash was looking at me. The relief on his face made my heart skip a beat, but there was something else in his dark eyes that took my breath away.
It looked just like desire.
I stepped back and glanced at the chains binding Nash’s wrists. I wasn’t as tall as him, but if I stood on the tips of my toes, I could reach the locks. So that was what I did.
It meant putting my body flush against his, so I tried not to think about the kiss and what I’d seen in Nash’s eyes after it. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sawyer take his place by Nash’s side. His gaze shifted from worrying about his friend to glaring at me. I concentrated on the locks rather than Sawyer’s hate-filled looks and the warmth of Nash’s chest whenever I bumped it.
Finally, I unlocked his wrists. Nash slumped forward and crashed into me. He would have squashed me onto the floor if Sawyer hadn’t grabbed him and held him upright.
Sawyer held his friend in place with a firm hand on his shoulder. I took a step forward, wanting to help balance him––
Sawyer filled his free hand with his pistol, and pointed it at my head. I froze in place. No one had ever looked at me with so much anger before. If it had been a sword, it would have cut me in half.
Eternity seemed to pass before Sawyer spoke.
“I have one question.” His voice could have frozen a Hellion’s heart. “If you lie to me, I will kill you here and now.”
I believed him. Nash didn’t say anything to calm Sawyer down. Another eternal moment passed before he spoke again.
“Why did you come back?”
I struggled for an answer. What could I tell him that he would believe? Would he know the truth if I told it to him? Would he care? He’d shown me his ship. Trusted me. Maybe even grew to think of me as an ally, if not a friend. And at the end of it all, I betrayed him for selfish reasons. He was beaten, his friend tortured…
I slumped my shoulders. “Look, I can stand here and tell you how guilty I felt. That I had a sudden change of heart and thought my life would improve with you rather than being alone. I could use a lot of pretty words to earn some sympathy, but it wouldn’t matter. You’re not going to believe it, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” I looked at Nash. “You’ve already suffered too much.”
Nas
h’s head lifted, but I looked away. I couldn’t handle seeing his physical and emotional pain any longer. Or that’s what I told myself. It was better than admitting how much of a coward I was.
“I started a fire outside,” I said. “Fletcher, Boyd, and Tyler went outside to put it out, but they’re probably back inside now because… I might have signaled some Hellion skiffs.”
“Shit,” Sawyer cursed angrily. At least he didn’t shoot me.
“You can still get out,” I assured him. “Come on.”
I was fairly sure that Sawyer wanted to refuse. I’d already shown him how valuable my trust was, and that was before Morris added his own colorful description. But mentioning the Hellions pushed his hatred of me aside. Despite how low I’d gone, he knew I wouldn’t joke about those monsters. I was a bitch, but I wasn’t cruel.
Since I couldn’t carry Nash, who was still struggling to regain his strength––I grimly wondered how badly his torso had been beaten before I found them, and if he had any cracked ribs––it remained Sawyer’s job to carry him while I led the way. As we climbed the stairs, I gripped my knife tightly. I didn’t know what I would find up there, and the only Hellion I’d ever killed had been on a stroke of luck. A stroke that would give out soon.
I eased open the door, searching the wide gymnasium for hungry monsters and furious thugs. Tension turned into nausea and rolled in my stomach. But I couldn’t see anyone, and we couldn’t stay here. I took a step into the gymnasium, then another, and another––
An arm locked around my throat and tightened. My surprised bark became a choked gurgle. I slashed back with the knife, but my hand was grabbed and crushed until I was forced to drop the blade. With both hands, I pulled at the muscular arm, and watched Boyd barrel toward the door where Sawyer was still standing. I didn’t know how well Sawyer could shoot one-handed, but I wasn’t going to wait for the worst.
I lashed out a snap-kick into Boyd’s gut. He grunted and stumbled. Long enough for Sawyer to shoot him in the knee.
Boyd screamed as blood and bone sprayed from his shattered joint. He collapsed onto the ground and writhed in agony. Tyler’s surprise caused his hold to loosen just enough for me to jam an elbow into his ribs. I snapped up a kick to the back of his skull and made him let go completely. I whirled around and whipped a powerful roundhouse kick to the side of Tyler’s head. He barked in pain as he toppled onto the hard ground.