My knuckles turned white on the edges of the seat. “Maybe this is a weird time to ask, but why are you doing this?” I shouted over the sirens. “Why are you risking your job for us?”
“Would you believe it’s because of a university course I took?”
“But—”
Swearing again, he slammed on the brakes. The SUV skidded to a stop nearly sideways, sending me hurling into the dash, restrained only by my seat belt, which I quickly unbuckled. I could see now why he’d stopped: Two police cars with angry, swirling blue lights blocked the road ahead, trapping us on the overpass. In the rear, two more had appeared out of nowhere.
This was over. After we’d come so far, Labrecque would never allow us to bridge the distance. And she and the other officers would never listen to me. I’d be lucky if I didn’t get thrown in a cell myself, and despite his protests, my father, too.
And meanwhile, that blinking dot would disappear forever.
A rush of wind lifted me as I robotically opened the SUV’s door, only struggling for a second to work the handle. In the dry heat, I still shivered at the sight of the inky depths of the canal, but the guardrail wasn’t even waist-high. A faint fishy scent emanated from the black, sludgy, barely-moving water as I leaned over it.
Was this for real?
From behind me came the sharp clang of metal against metal as car doors slammed. The sounds reverberated off the concrete walls of the overpass, and my heart raced faster amid the distant sound of more approaching sirens. Reinforcements. The voices grew increasingly insistent. There was no escape.
But now that I’d started running, I couldn’t stop. Not now.
And besides,he’ddone his part. He’d planned. It wasmyturn to execute. And yes, maybe this particular execution was more idiotic than usual.
But hey, I’d never claimed to be the smart one.
I assessed the length of the drop, but my horrible spatial reasoning could only conclude that it was somewhere between twenty feet and snapping my spine like a potato chip.
But first things first. I lifted the still-blinking phone. From the middle of the overpass, it would be an easy toss to the other side of the canal, but once it left my hand, there was no going back. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and wound up.
Over on the driver’s side, Wheatley despairingly slammed the door of the SUV. “Fucking Labrecque. Look, we’ve got to think of something else. She’s not immune to reason, even though it seems like it. Maybe if we can explain—holy shit.”
Thatwas the last thing I heard before I jumped.
HIM
Noam did not pull the trigger. Instead, he raised the pistol and sent the butt end careening into my head, blowing part of it open like a ripe piece of fruit.
Was it too late to hope he’d change his mind and shoot me?
Noam laughed, and even though there was nothing for it to bounce off, it echoed—off the cactus, the tin roof, the sky, until at last, he dropped the gun and stepped away.
By then, I’d dropped as low as my chains would let him. Blood and torn flesh were trailing down my eyes and pooling in the desert sand. They were all I could see as I gasped for air through the red cloud that choked off my other senses. For a few seconds, there was almost silence, except for the distant cry of a vulture. Of course.
I wasn’t surprised when Noam returned, but I was by his weapon: A pickaxe. The exact same kind they used to give me in the winter to work in the quarry two villages over, when there was nothing to do at the farm. But it also made a fantastic improvised weapon, against a fellow slave if you wanted forty lashes, or an overseer if you wanted death. I’d witnessed both, but nobody had ever successfully turned it onme.
Until now. It connected with my ribs, shattering what felt like at least two of them with a nauseating crunch. My body jerked and twisted under the impact, sure I could feel the splintered edges of my own bones tearing into my organs, not to mention what remained of my clothes, blood soaking into the fabric. Still, the thug aimed for one of my kneecaps and shattered that, too, adding a few kicks for good measure.
My breaths were coming out in shallow gasps now, each one more excruciating than the last. I tried to push myself away, to twist or duck, but all my strength had left me. I had no choice but to hang there, weak and unresponsive, limbs heavy and numb. This was what death felt like, I was pretty sure.
Noam lifted the ax, aiming for my head, again.
But the blow didn’t come. Of course I wouldn’t be so stupid this time to expect that it never would.
But it didn’t.
And not only that, a second later, it wasallgone—the noise, the weapons, the vehicle, and Noam’s gargantuan shadow.
Instead, there was a pair of slender hands tenderly cradling my bloody, savaged body, their graceful fingers carding through my matted, blood-soaked hair, wiping away trails of bloody tissue from my face. Wavy tendrils fell around my rescuer’s cheeks, traces of her own tears framed in a glistening halo of light.
Resi’s lips were as cool and soft as a satin pillow against my skin. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t tell him tokillyou.”
