Page 79 of Killing Emma

“What the fuck?” a voice says in the distance.

Pain sears through the side of my head and as I flutter my eyes open, the lights are too fucking bright. I close them again, letting out a groan.

“He’s awake,” the voice shouts. “Let’s get him out of here.”

“I should’ve come sooner,” another voice says. “I knew it was taking too long.”

“You owe me a big explanation for this, Jude,” the first voice growls above me. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all this shit behind my back.”

Oh shit. Henry.

I force my eyes open again, this time meeting a pair of steely gray ones. “How long have I been out?”

“You entered this room twenty-seven hours ago.”

My eyes instantly widen. “What the fuck? Why would you let me lay here this long?” I try to sit up, but I instantly fall back.

“Slow down,” Henry catches me. “Ivan sedated you, and had a false tracker planted on one of his guys to make it appear you’d left the building. It led on us on a fucking goose chase while you were here. But…” His eyes jog off to the left.

And I weakly follow them. “Oh shit.” I take in the sight of a lifeless Ivan, his blonde hair soaked in blood. A gun lay beside him. And a syringe. He’s riddled with bullet holes. But I don’t remember doing it. I barely remember getting my gun.

“Yeah, his cronies ran.” Henry shrugs. “There’s people to clean this shit up. We just need to get you the fuck out of here.”

“Have you gotten her yet?” I ask Jude, who’s standing at the door. He meets my gaze but says nothing. Panic thrums through my body. This is the day. This is the fucking day. And Ivan is dead. I can be there with her. I can go with her. “We have to get back to her.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Henry stops me as I try to jump up. “Who are you going to get? If there’s a hit, it’s gotta wait. You can’t go like this.”

“No, today is the day.” I shove Henry off me. She’s going to be waiting for me. And she’s going to be pissed.

“Have you at least called her?” I demand, nearly falling as I stand to my feet. Henry is there to catch me again, but this time, he helps me stay standing. “Tell me you called her.”

“She doesn’t have a phone,” Jude says through his teeth. “It’s impossible to call someone without a phone.”

“We need to get you back to my place, and then you can go look for whoever you want. You need an IV,” Henry stabilizes me and as I glance down, I see blood dripping from me to the floor. “And I need to patch you up sooner rather than later. My place is only fifteen minutes away.”

I reach for my head and realize it’s still oozing blood. “No, I need to go to my place.”

“No,” Henry argues.

“We have to,” Jude says, albeit reluctantly. “He has a guest.”

Henry stiffens, glaring at me and then back at Jude. “Is this why you’ve been so fucking elusive lately? I knew something was up, but you made it out like you were making headway on Emma’s disappearance. You were really hunting Ivan, weren’t you?”

“Both,” I answer for Jude, relieving him of the spotlight. “He was helping me.”

“With Ivan?” Henry helps me stumble toward the exit.

I take in the room with the lights on and see the blood stains. Everywhere. The concrete floors, walls, and ceiling are littered in dark, disgusting splatters. My stomach lurches, and I’m not sure if it’s the concussion or the view.

I heave, vomiting all over the concrete.

“Who have you been helping him with?” Henry repeats his question, this time sharper, stronger, and with more agitation.

“Emma,” I choke out. “Emma.” Her name is like medication to my body, lighting me up with the urge to get out of this room—out of this place.

“You had the hit on her, didn’t you?” Henry’s voice is terrifyingly quiet, and I brace for what’s to come.

“I did,” I answer him as the breeze from outside rushes in and fills my lungs. “But it’s day zero now. Time’s run out.”

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