Page 139 of Chaos

“You’re all okay?” I ask, half convinced they’re going to start dropping like dominos, one after another.

“Yeah,” they mutter as one, staring up at the bird that just took flight into the sky.

I touch Frankie’s cheek under a spot that’s scraped raw.

She got out.

My hands are shaking.

So are hers.

Her eyes search my body, like they always do after we’ve been apart.

“You’re okay,” she whispers, like I was the one that just narrowly avoided a building collapse and a fire.

I move my fingers gingerly to her neck, checking her for more injuries, then down to her belly. I want to ask about the baby, but can’t.

“I think we’re okay,” she whispers. She holds up the golden chain, the archer and the scorpion. Blood is dripping from the end of the scorpion’s tail. “I stabbed Duane in the neck with it.”

“Jesus.” It’s hard to breathe, for more reasons than one, and my fingers curl around her neck, dragging her closer, until my forehead can touch hers. It’s hard to believe we all came out of that intact. “Good job.”

How many times can we keep doing this? Facing death and narrowly escaping. She shouldn’t have to keep fighting off these men.

It can’t keep happening.

I glance at the kids. They’re in the same shape she is—dusty, bruised, both of them bleeding in spots promising a long story to come—but alive.

The greenhouse somehow managed not to explode when the tower collapsed, but that doesn’t mean it won’t any second.

“Let’s get away from the smoke.” I grab Shane’s shoulder, force myself to look at Ephie, try not to remember the times she stood on the other side. Her hand is joined with his. “And get you all cleaned up.”

“What about him?” Shane points at the blood and dust-covered rubble that is Ben.

His face is streaked brown and black and red with blood. One of his eyes is gone. Fresh blood, vibrant as lava, forms three gouges in the dust down his face.

“I already killed him,” Frankie whispers.

I’m not sure what that means. “How?”

“Long story,” she says, staring down at him with a look I can’t unpack.

“Are you in pain?” I ask him.

His throat makes a rattle. “Yes.”

That should fill me with satisfaction, and maybe later, when I look back at this moment, it will, but now, all I feel is … tired.

I just want a world where no one’s trying to kill Frankie every time I turn around.

“Want us to end it for you?” I ask.

“No.” His gaze slips off me and up to the sky, where the beam of sunshine is gone, nothing but iron clouds, ash, and snowflakes falling. “Should’ve let us have … th’deer.”

Shane stiffens.

Ephie’s chin rumples up like she’s going to be sick, and she runs for the edge of the patio where she climbs over the stone half wall and the boxwood bushes on the other side where Auden and Beast are waiting.

I wait for Shane’s reaction.

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