Page 178 of Fallen Princess: Shadow Stalker

Fuck.

“Hey G, wake up, bruv,”

Something wet and slimy splashes all over me. I feel confused and disoriented. Slowly opening my eyes, a bright, sharp light shines, and I close them again.

“Fuck,” I grumble and feel a shade pass over me.

“Am I dead?”

“Could be that we’re both in hell. This desert is one flippin’ heat furnace.”

That familiar voice belongs to my annoying brother. I open my eyes to see him hovering over me, blocking out the sun.

“What the hell happened?” I ask, taking the hand he offers and pulling myself up. Fuck, my head and entire body hurt like I’ve been on the piss again. “And why the fuck did you call me G?”

“G as in the useless letter of the word Lasagna,” my brother, the prick, is grinning at me, and I would punch him right now if I had the strength to do it.

Before I can reply, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his embrace.

“What’s this about?” I ask, a little dazed, wondering what my pretentious arse of a brother is doing.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, his voice ragged with emotion. “When I saw you go over the cliff with that geezer and the gun. I thought…..”

I pull away from him. His face is tearful and raw.

“It’s not the first time I almost died. And you have a lot of fucking nerve to accuse me of being a user. Are you on molly or something?” I look at him, perplexed.

“You muppet,” he pushes me away. “You saved my life, and I’ve been a right idiot with you. All these years…fuck…” He wipes his hand over his eyes, looks away, and then back at me. “I never stood by you. You’re my little bruv. I should’ve protected you … supported you. You deserve an apology. I’ve been a lousy brother.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother this emotional. Not for me anyway, and not in a long fucking time. Gone is that stone-cold, empty stare he used to give me. Instead, he's returned to a version of himself I barely recognize, a person from what feels like a lifetime ago.

“Noooo,” I groan, overcome with laughter bordering on madness. My muscles ache from the strain of it, but I can't seem to stop.

Haze looks at me with a mix of confusion and concern, as if I finally lost the plot.

Maybe I have.

“I’m flippin’ pissed at you!” I manage to say between laughs. "How am I supposed to keep calling youSir Snootingtonwhen you've suddenly become so uncharacteristically nice, like a proper brother?”

“You call me what?”

“Never you mind.” I shake my head, trying to focus despite the rush of adrenaline.

“Where’s Eden?” I scan the surroundings, my heart pounding as I realize I'm standing on a narrow ledge on this mountain.

“Fuck,” I mutter, grabbing onto Haze for support as he steadies me.

“Whoa, there. It’s a steep drop.” He warns, gripping me tight.

“Where’s Eden?” I ask nervously, pulling away from him. The image of her with a gun aimed at her head is still fresh in my mind.

“She’s fine, and minger and his army are dead. Eden’s being treated for a nasty cut on her arm by a medic.”

How long was I out? Last I remember, I landed like a sodding sack of potatoes from the helicopter and saw Haze about to get his brains blown out by some geezer.

I fell trying to save his royal snooty arse.

I look up, and I’m only a couple meters from the top.

---