My gaze shot back to Haven and I expected to see her faltering under Alexa’s persuasion, but her gray eyes remained unwavering and fixed on her. “Maybe I would be dead by now. But that would’ve been my choice. Do you think I wanted to live with you? To live in a disgusting house where I was terrorized then raped. To be fed drugs like candy so I’d have to rely on Olaf for my next fix. To have to beg him for it. And you … you wanted to keep me like a pet in a cage—”
“No. That’s not true,” Alexa said, her voice now beginning to quake.
“And now you want to do the same thing to Ream. No, Alexa. I will kill him before I will allow you to torture him like you’ve done to me all these years.”
“Haven, I love you.” Alexa’s voice broke and I saw the realization in her eyes just before Haven said, “And you can die knowing I’ve always hated you.”
The gun went off.
I watched as if in slow motion as Alexa’s eyes widened and her hands went to her chest and then pulled away as she stared down at the blood. Her blood. She looked back up at Haven, her mouth opening like she was going to say something. Then she crumpled to the floor.
I didn’t wait any longer as I staggered to my feet and went running to Ream. I’d forgotten about Lance and he dove for me. He was agile and quick, but Haven, whoever she’d become over the years, didn’t hesitate as she pulled the trigger again, and Lance’s hand just hit my shoulder as he fell.
Haven walked toward us, the gun still pointed at Lance now lying on the floor writhing in pain. Then she stood over him, and I saw him reach out his hand. She never said a word as the gun went off again; Lance’s body jerked then went still.
Haven crouched down and searched in his pockets then pulled out a key which she tossed to me. “Get him down.”
I didn’t pay much attention to her as I quickly ran the rest of the way to Ream. I stood on my tiptoes as I put the key in the cuffs that were latched to the ring in the post.
“Baby.” He was barely able to breathe from the pain. In shock, his flesh pale and body shaking violently.
As soon as his hands were free, he buckled into my arms, dragging me to the floor with him. “Haven.” I couldn’t carry him. I’d need her help to get him out of here.
When I looked up, she was walking back into the room carrying a red plastic gasoline container. She started pouring the liquid all over the place, the fumes so pungent I started coughing.
“Ream. Ream, we have to get out of here. Get up. You have to get up.” I wrapped my arm around his waist and felt him stiffen as the material from my shirt brushed up against his wounds. “Ream, damn it. Get. Up,” I yelled.
I tried to get to my feet, but my legs were weak and I didn’t have the strength to pick him up from the floor. Suddenly, Haven was on the other side of him and she looped her arm around him and we both hauled him to his feet.
“Haven.” His eyes were closed, but he knew she was there saving him. She was his twin, his other half, his angel.
She never said a word.
We half dragged, half carried him to the door. Then Haven stopped. She didn’t even look at me as she passed me her gun then reached into her pocket, pulled out a match, and struck it against the doorframe. It sizzled as it caught flame, the bright orange illuminating her indifferent expression. Then she threw it over her shoulder into a pool of gasoline.
“Let’s go.”
The smoke was thick by the time we reached the side door. The crackle of wood as it burned sounded like gunfire, and I cringed every time, afraid someone was going to come up behind us and stop us, take us back, or kill us.
But soon I was sucking in fresh air, coughing, and spitting up the ash that was in my lungs. Ream hung between us as Haven pushed us farther, not stopping until we reached a fence line. She kicked at a couple of wood boards and they sprung free.
Then she hauled off and slapped Ream in the face. I gasped, but she ignored me and grabbed him by the chin. “Ream.” He flinched and I saw his eyes flicker open, glazed over and bloodshot. He was nearly unconscious from the pain. “Get on your knees. You need to crawl through that hole. You hear me, Ream.” When she let go of his face, I could see the imprint left from her fingers.
“Let him go,” Haven ordered.
“But he’ll—”
I didn’t finish the sentence because Haven grabbed Ream from me and he crashed to his knees, his back arching at the pain jolting through him. I stared up at her in horror, my mouth hanging open.
“Pain drives the body to do more than you’d think possible.” It was a statement and I had a feeling she knew that statement better than anyone. Then I thought of the branding I’d seen on her inner wrist.
Haven held the boards up and Ream agonizingly crawled through and then we followed. My legs reacted to the exertion, the pins and needles running rampant, but I didn’t have the nervousness to accompany it, and that was how I figured I lasted so long. I was calm.
Ream was beside me. We were alive.
Just as the boards slammed shut behind us I heard the loud bang of something blowing up and instinctively covered Ream’s body with my own. Haven wasn’t waiting for anything though and grabbed my arm. “Move it. The police will be here any minute.”
“But they can help …” My voice trailed off as she picked up Ream, ignoring me. I scrambled to help and then we were running down the street. I noticed the street lights weren’t working and wondered if that was coincidence or not. Five right in a row and one above the blue nondescript car she was currently unlocking.