“What should we do?”
Oh fuck,we’re going to be caught. We’ll lose our freedom once again, now to the law of the country. The only thought crossingmy mind is that Naya needs to get out of here; she needs to hide.
“You have to run,” I tell her, eyes grave serious and tone leaving no room for argument.
“What? What do you mean ‘run’?”
“Listen to me, little doll. You have to run away as far as you can.”
Panic slithers inside me at the thought of her being caught. I can’t let her go through that again; this time locked up forever. She deserves the taste of freedom much more than I do, and the police already know we’re here all thanks to Emilio. At least, I can distract them while she runs.
“Come with me,” she begs, but I can’t do what she wants.
“I will hold them off.”
“The fuck you will. Come now, and we might have a chance at escaping.”
I look at her, mismatched eyes glinting in the dimming light from the outside world. Taking a step closer, I lean in to give her a sweet, short kiss, before grabbing her hand.
“I can’t. They will follow us. I need you to run, Naya. Not both of us should be caught.”
I quickly grab something from my inner pocket in my panic, eyes flickering to our surroundings and making sure the officers can’t see us just yet.
“Here, take these.” I hurry to give her the passports—keeping the gun as they’re sure to have heard the shot go off—watching as she stuffs them inside her jacket, reluctantly.
Pain crumbles her face, sending a spear straight through my heart. Her eyes glaze over, but she refuses to cry. “Come with me,” she begs, her voice breaking, and I can’t fucking handle it.
“I will hold them up. You run as far away from here as possible, and then you find a way to free me if you can. But I cannot have you locked up again.”
“What about you?” She cries out, angry that I’m evensuggesting this.
“I will be fine, baby. Now run.”
She shakes her head, refusing to leave me. I try to pry her grip from my hand apart, but she only holds on tighter. Finally, I use my other hand to loosen her hold, and she reluctantly lets go. Then, as if everything is happening in slow motion, I take a step back, away from the wreckage of Grimhill Manor and out into the open where I’ll be visible.
My eyes tell her stories I need her to hear—that I’ll be fine. My eyes plead with her to run, but she stands frozen.
“Grey,” she whispers as footsteps come even closer.
I peek over, seeing three officers emerging from the woods—all men Emilio must have called in. It was obvious he’d been working with the authorities to find us. My heart squeezes painfully.
Two of the men aim their drawn guns at me, while the third steps closer, authority lacing his words. As the officer lays eyes on Emilio’s corpse, his expressions harden, eyes narrowing. All I can think is how relieved I am that Naya is hidden as the third officer grabs a pair of cuffs, securing them around my wrist until I’m wincing in pain.
Memories flood me, surging up to the surface until it’s hard to breathe.
Cuffed after my parents’ death. Heart breaking into a thousand pieces.
“Grey Madden, you are under arrest for arson and the murder of Emilio Ricci,” the officer declares. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court.”
Chapter 23
Grey
Cuffs dig deep intomy skin like sharp razor blades, hurting like a bitch as it tears away at my skin the moment I try to free myself. If I could wriggle my hands free from these cuffs, I could fight my way out of this, but I know it’s futile—I’ve played this game before.
It’s impossible without a key.
The musty air tugs at me as the officers lead me away from what used to be the manor, narrow trails hidden by the foliage, and the incoming fog. I’m leaving my little doll behind to seek shelter elsewhere, and the organ inside my chest caves at the thought—I know it’s better this way. I can’t let them know I’m here with someone else, even if Emilio already told them.
