Page 81 of The Sin

Julian didn’t. He glanced over his shoulder at me—or rather, at my guards. “Hold tight.”

“Ladies,” Geneva drawled.

Rose and Eliza adjusted the rifles in their arms and took aim.

The guard on my left bent closer, his voice low and urgent at my ear, “Is it true?”

I reared away from his breath, glared at him.Is what true?

“That there are women in The Smoke?” His brown eyes searched mine. He wasn’t young, maybe in his mid-thirties. “More women than there are men?”

I glanced down at the grip of his fingers on my upper arm, and what he was asking hit me in the stomach. There was no citizen ring tattoo. It was a double whammy. I was always fixated on the women of Capra. We bore the brunt of our society’s restrictions, that was true, but the men weren’t untouched. The ratio of 7:3 meant that more than half our men, upstanding citizens who’d never done any wrong—were denied wives, denied a life partner, and by default denied a family.

I gave him a grim nod. I had no idea what all he’d heard, I’d missed most of the screening, but if I’d said it, then it was the God honest truth.

“It’s all true,” I whispered.

His eyes pinned the guard on my other side. I glanced that way. I didn’t know his story—how many stories were out there?—but I recognized the look of pain that crossed his face. The look of loss.

He took a moment, then he released my arm and the brown-eyed guard tugged me out from behind the others. It happened so fast, I was on the edge of our oppressive group before his intention registered.

I wasn’t the only one taken by surprise. Then again, everyone’s focus was on Geneva and the rifles pointed at them.

The guard released my arm. He’d already dropped his baton and now he unhooked the Taser from his hip and tossed it aside, raising both hands in the air as he crossed with me to the other camp.

“Powell!” General Bickens cut into the tense silence at our backs. “What are you doing? If you don’t get back here…!”

The empty threat trailed off, because that’s exactly what it was. We were almost across the divide. Almost there.

Then all hell broke loose.

Bickens rushed us, rushed into the divide, and that deafening, mind-bending cacophony of thunder split my skull. My guard threw an arm around my shoulder, shoving me to the ground as he flung himself over me like a human shield.

For long, long seconds, I couldn’t think. And when I could, when I became aware of his body crouched over me, I didn’t know what to think.

He rolled off me and I started to lift myself up onto my elbows.

“Daddy!” Lisa screamed, bursting forward.

Her mother yanked her back.

Distant cries, more screams, other muffled sounds, all filtered through the ringing in my ears, and then Roman was reaching for me, gathering me up from the ground.

His mask was shattered, the look on his face a ravaged valley of hard edges and dark shadows. “Georga.”

I tried to work saliva into my mouth to answer, to assure him I was okay, but an awful, crooning sound drew my attention and my gaze skimmed wide.

“Don’t look.” Roman tucked me to his chest, his large palm tenderly cupping my head, but it was too late.

I’d seen the blood gurgling from General Bickens’ leg. I’d seen the bone sticking out from his shattered knee.

Hot bile churned up my throat and gathered at the back of my mouth.

Roman held me close, his heart a steady beat against my cheek, drowning out the gore and chaos around us.

My stomach settled.

For a moment, just a single moment, I thought we might make it through the rest of this night, that the worst was over.

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