Page 85 of Final Vendetta

Not with Imogene’s life at stake.

She was frozen in the corner of the cage, her wide, tear-filled eyes darting between me and the guards. One of them lunged toward her, and I fired the gun without hesitation. The bullet hit its mark, sending him stumbling back.

The air reeked of sweat, blood, and gunpowder. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through my battered body, but I kept going.

Another guard rushed me, larger and faster than the others. I barely managed to sidestep him, but he knocked the gun from my hand before grabbing my injured arm, twisting it until I heard a sickening pop. I screamed in agony, dropping to one knee. Thankfully, it was right in front of the knife I’d refused to use during my fight.

I wrapped my fingers around it and slashed upward. The guard fell, clutching his throat.

My breaths came in ragged gasps. Blood dripped from my side, my arm hung limp, but I couldn’t stop. I had to make sure Imogene made it out of here alive… Even if I didn’t.

I became the man Meyers turned me into. A ruthless killing machine who took lives without a single care. When one guard dropped, another would take his place, who I’d kill without mercy.

The chaos around me was deafening, but I couldn’t hear any of it. I was in a trance.

But with each guard I took out, I felt myself getting weaker and weaker, my motions growing slower.

“Gideon! Behind you!” Imogene’s voice cut through as I took a moment to gather some strength.

I stumbled around, time standing still as I stared down the barrel of a gun.

I told my body to move, but I was too slow to react after the beating I’d taken.

Then I felt something slam into me, pushing me to the floor at the same moment as the shot rang out.

Time seemed to stop as I tried to make sense out of what happened. But then I saw Imogene.

She was inches away, where I was standing seconds ago, her face contorted in shock and pain. She took a step back, then another. Then she collapsed, blood staining her shirt.

Rage filled me, pulling me to my feet, and I rushed the guard, snapping his neck in one swift motion and tossing him aside like a rag doll.

I scrambled toward Imogene, pressing my hands to the wound on her stomach, desperate to stop the flow of blood.

“It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay,” I managed to say through the tightness in my throat, peppering kisses to her face.

The frenzy around us grew louder — the sound of gunfire, shouting, and heavy boots pounding against the floor. I snapped my attention away for a split second. The remaining guards fell one by one, taken out by men in tactical gear storming the compound.

At first, I was confused, but when I saw Henry and Alexander pull up the rear, I was momentarily relieved, sending up a silent prayer that my friend finally came through.

But any relief was fleeting as I looked back at Imogene, her skin pale and her breathing shallow.

“I… I’m so sorry,” she strained to say, her voice barely a whisper, fragile and broken.

“Don’t,” I choked out, cradling her closer to me as if holding her tighter could somehow keep her with me. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not now. Not when she needed me to be strong.

“I never should have pushed you away,” she gasped, each breath becoming more difficult than the last. “Never should have run from you. Never should have wasted time.”

“You didn’t,” I said fiercely, grabbing her trembling hand tightly in mine.

My gaze fell to the ring on her finger, the blood-stained diamond a brutal reminder of everything we’d fought for — and everything we stood to lose. My chest ached, a raw, relentless pressure that made it hard to breathe. But I couldn’t let her see.

“And now,” I continued, forcing a steadiness into my voice I didn’t feel, “we’ll have all the time in the world together. I promise.” I pressed a trembling kiss to her forehead, my lips lingering against her skin. “We’re free.”

A faint, almost imperceptible laugh escaped her lips. “I didn’t take you for an optimist,” she murmured, the sound so feeble it shattered something deep inside me.

I tilted my head back, blinking rapidly against the tears threatening to spill. “I’m not,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I’m a realist. And youwillmake it out of here. You hear me? You donotget to die in this goddamn cage.” I pressed my forehead to hers, desperate to anchor us both. “Just stay with me, Imogene. Please. You can’t leave me.”

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