Page 12 of Breeding Justice

“Pick up the pace,” I said, my grip tightening on the chair leg I’d kept as a backup weapon. “Unless you want to explain to your mates why you’re bleeding.”

I was surprised we hadn’t ran into anyone else yet. I didn’t know how far we could go without finding someone else—and there was no way to know if he was leading us into a trap.

Justice was unsteady on her feet, bruises on her soft skin. The fact that she had been hurt made me want to loun

Stocky grunted but stumbled forward, leading us down a series of winding corridors. Each turn felt like a gamble, but Bash’s instincts were razor-sharp. When we reached a set of metal stairs, Bash shoved Stocky against the wall.

“Where does this lead?” he demanded.

“Loading dock,” Stocky wheezed. “You’ll never make it out.”

“That’s our problem,” Bash said, slamming the man’s head against the wall hard enough to knock him unconscious.

Justice grabbed my arm, her voice urgent. “We need to move. Now.”

The sound of boots was closer now, echoing through the halls like a drumbeat of doom. I grinned, adrenaline buzzing in my veins.

“After you, love,” I said, gesturing to the stairs.

Justice rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, leading the way as we bolted up the steps. Bash was right behind her, and I brought up the rear, the chair leg still gripped tightly in my hand.

The loading dock door loomed ahead, heavy and foreboding. Justice hesitated for only a second before kicking it open. Sunlight flooded the narrow stairwell, blinding and disorienting after the dim confines of the prison.

“Move!” Bash barked, pushing us through the door.

The fresh air hit me like a slap, and I sucked in a lungful, my body buzzing with the thrill of freedom. But there was no time to celebrate. Guards were shouting behind us, their voices growing louder.

“Skylar!” Justice yelled, pointing toward a parked van. “Keys!”

I spotted the set dangling from a guard’s belt as he rounded the corner. Without thinking, I sprinted toward him, dodging his clumsy swing and driving the chair leg into his gut. He crumpled, and I snatched the keys from his belt.

“Got ‘em!” I shouted, tossing them to Justice.

She caught them deftly and bolted for the van, Bash close on her heels. I turned to follow, but a bullet whizzed past my ear, forcing me to dive for cover.

“Hurry up, Skylar!” Justice yelled, the van’s engine roaring to life.

I scrambled to my feet, dodging another shot as I sprinted for the open van door. Bash grabbed my arm and hauled me inside as Justice floored it, the tires screeching against the asphalt.

The guards fired after us, but the van roared forward, the prison shrinking in the rearview mirror. My heart pounded as I collapsed onto the floor, grinning up at Bash and Justice.

“Well,” I said, breathless and bloodied. “That was fun.”

I just didn’t know how long the fun was going to last for. And I didn’t like that.

Chapter Five: Hassan

So it was settled.

We were heading to NYC…and abandoning Justice, Bash and Skylar in Miami for the time being. Running was what Justice wanted me to do. She wanted me to keep Sebastian safe. I had to do what she told me, because keeping a two-year-old safe was absolutely my top priority, but nothing about this made me feel good.

I could tell it didn’t make Zane feel good either.

The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a pale glow over the room. Zane sat at the desk, hunched over a burner phone, his brows furrowed in concentration. He tapped the screen idly, his fingers drumming a rhythm I recognized as nerves. He was in pain, too, and the medicine had started towear off. Neither of us had spoken for several minutes, the weight of Dante’s message hanging over us like a guillotine.

“This is bullshit,” I muttered, breaking the silence. I paced the room, the soles of my shoes scuffing against the worn carpet. “He knows we’re desperate, and he’s using it.”

Zane didn’t look up. “Dante doesn’t ‘use’ anything. He’s paranoid, yeah, but it’s not without reason.”

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