Blood runs from my nose and mouth, tickling as it rolls over my skin. My face is on fire. Tobias did not hold back on that hit. He drags me, my legs scuffing in the dirt of the warehouse floor and then he throws me down. I land hard on my hip, hissing through my teeth to stop myself from crying out. I roll, trying to get up right, but my back hits something solid behind me.
“Ellie!?” Tate’s voice is a shrill of panic.
I spin as quick as I can and come face to face with her. She’s tied to a chair, hair matted and limp, and her face is gaunt, the skin pale, but she’s here. She’s right here.
“Tate!” I cry, ignoring the pain as I get to my knees and throw my arms around her.
“What are you doing here!?” She cries, “Why are you here!?”
Somewhere behind us a door opens and closes with a thud that echoes through the open space. It’s dark and damp in here, barely any light shining through the moss and grime covered windows in the ceiling and a little lamp set up close to where Tate is being held barely emits a glow.
I don’t get to answer when Tobias laughs.
My head whips around to see him looking back towards the way we came, “My, my, isn’t he persistent.”
On the ride over I’d convinced myself seeing Kingston was an illusion, a hallucination brought on by fear. Him telling me he’ll see me soon wasn’t because he would in this lifetime, but because I’d be dead.
I open my mouth to speak, but Tobias is gone, leaving just Tate and me in the warehouse.
I see it as an opportunity. My whole body hurts, even my fingers, but it doesn’t stop me from going behind the chair to start tugging at the ropes binding her.
“Ellie, why are you here?”
“I came looking for you,” I whisper, too afraid to talk louder.
“You fucking idiot!” She hisses but there’s no anger.
“I wasn’t just going to let you go!”
“Garrett said he text you, that you believed it.”
I scoff, “Please, that guy’s a fucking idiot if he thinks I’d ever believe those messages.”
She laughs without humor, “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“No,” I say, getting the rope loose, “I’m going to get us out.”
I don’t let on how much I don’t believe those words.
I move onto her ankles and free her, helping her stand. “Where’s Garrett?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“Hey!” A boom of a voice stops us, “What are you doing!?”
With Tate weak and me not in a much better state, we don’t stand a chance against the two men that rush us. Tate is ripped away and held roughly and me, I’m shoved so hard my head hits the chair as I fall. Stars burst behind my eyes, fog creeping in.
His boot hits me in the stomach, “They said we couldn’t touch the blonde,” the man sneers, “No one said anything about you.”
The boot hits me again, in the ribs and I feel something crack as the wind rushes out, and I struggle to draw air into my lungs. Tate screams and fights against the other man’s hold, but she can’t get free to stop him.
I’m still trying to suck in air when he reaches down and grabs my jacket, hauling me up closer to him. I’m too weak to hold myself. I can’t breathe.
“You’re wearing far too many clothes,” he sneers.
Horror makes my heart gallop faster than it already was. “No!” I scream. “No!”
An awful laugh erupts from him as he revels in my fear, but then that laugh turns to a gurgle and a warm spray hits me in the face.
My eyes widen when I finally see what’s happened. The tip of a knife is protruding from his throat, blood trickling out of it and his mouth. Behind him, his face a mask of cold, quiet fury is Kingston, a hand ripping at his hair to hold his head back, the other wrapped around the hilt of the knife.
“Hello, love,” he growls.
“Kingston!?”
He tugs the knife back and shoves the guy away, letting him fall in a heap of limbs and drowning gurgles.
“You’re alive!?” I gasp and then I’m angry. “You lied!”
But before he can respond a slow, loud clap begins to echo through the warehouse.
“I never thought I’d see a dead man walking again,” Tobias tsks, “a valiant effort. Was it worth it?”
There’s no pause as Tobias withdraws a gun, aims it at Kingston and fires.
“No!” I scream, trying to get to him, but it isn’t me who blocks the shot. And it doesn’t hit Kingston.
Everything happens so fast and yet it’s like the world has slowed down. My scream echoes again when I realize who has stepped in front of that bullet. Where it has hit.
Ace lands hard into the dirt, the hole in the back of his head turning his blond hair red. It gushes from the wound and onto the ground, creating a puddle beneath his face.
“No!” Kingston’s cry is nothing but pure agony as he turns to drop down by his friend. But then he stops and his body stills, and when he looks over to Tobias, everything about him is angry. He pulls out his gun quicker than Tobias can react and then pulls the trigger three times. The shots make my ears ring, but they hit their mark, two in the chest, one in the head.
And that’s it.
Tobias drops to the floor, dead, Ace lies there unmoving. I can’t talk, I can’t move.
The gun clatters from King’s hand. He doesn’t come to me, and I don’t expect him to.
It kills me when a sob escapes his lips as he drops down to his knees besides his friend.
I feel Tate come up next to me, feel her arm go around my shoulders. Kingston gently rolls Ace’s body over until he’s on his back, eyes open and staring at the ceiling.
There’s no life. His once vibrant blue eyes are dull, blood caked to his pale skin and blond hair.
Silent tears roll down Kingston’s face as he leans forward and gently shuts his friend’s eyes.
“We should leave,” Tate whispers, “There will be others.”
I nod, the hot tears on my own face running through the blood on my skin. I don’t feel like I can walk, so instead I crawl towards Kingston. He flinches hard when I touch him but then his eyes meet mine, almost neon with the tears, and he grabs me, hauling me to his chest where he then buries his face into my hair and begins to shake, his silent sobs vibrating through me.
My throat burns with emotion, my eyes sting, and I know we can’t stay here long but I give him this moment. This minute to mourn his friend.
The friend that saved his life and I doubted it was the first time either.
“King, we have to go.”
He sucks in a sharp breath and nods, and though he pulls away from me, he doesn’t let me go. His eyes, still watery and red hold mine as he cups my face in his bloody hands.
And then he kisses me. It’s not rough or frantic, it’s a claiming, a promise. The taste of his tears hits my tongue, and I could have stayed there forever. He pulls away too soon and stands, gently pulling me to my feet.
Pain makes it hard, my ribs hurt, my face, my whole damn body but he doesn’t let go.
He steers me towards the door just as it bangs open and several men file in, trapping us inside.