Page 16 of Breeding Justice

I fumbled with my seatbelt, my fingers numb and clumsy. In the back, Skylar kicked at the crumpled rear door, cursing under his breath. The sound of engines grew closer, more menacing. I stole a glance through the shattered windshield; the SUVs were circling like sharks, their occupants disembarking with lethal purpose.

“Justice!” Bash’s voice cut through the chaos, rough with worry.

“I’m fine,” I gasped, though my vision swam. I blinked hard, gripping the wheel to steady myself. “I’m fine.”

Skylar’s voice came sharp from the back. “They’re moving in. We’ve got to go. Now.”

I shoved the door open, the cool night air biting at my skin. My legs felt like jelly as I stumbled out, the world tilting beneath me. Bash was already there, his hand steadying me as he scanned the lot.

“Split up,” Skylar said, his tone urgent. “We’ll cover more ground that way.”

“No,” Bash said firmly, his hand tightening on my arm. “We stay together.”

Skylar hesitated, his usual bravado faltering for a split second. “If we don’t split, we’re all screwed. I can draw them away—”

“You’re not sacrificing yourself,” I snapped, my voice shaking. “We do this together.”

Skylar opened his mouth to argue, but something in my eyes must have convinced him because he closed it with a tight, resigned nod.

“Fine. Together then. But we need a plan, and we need it fast.”

The men from the SUVs were closing in, their silhouettes dark and imposing against the flickering streetlights. My mind raced, every thought a panicked, jumbled mess. We had no weapons, no backup, and no way out.

The sound of shouting cut through the night, followed by the heavy thud of boots on asphalt. They were coming. Fast.

Bash grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the far side of the lot. “Move,” he barked. “Now.”

But then I heard it—the sharp cry of pain. I whipped around, my breath catching in my throat. Skylar was on the ground, two men pinning him down as he thrashed wildly.

“Get off me, you bastards!” he snarled, his voice raw with fury.

“Skylar!” I shouted, my chest tightening.

I tried to yank free of Bash’s grip, but his hand clamped down harder. He put his hand on my face and leaned in close to my ear.

"We can't lose him," I protested, my voice breaking. "We need him!"

Bash's whisper was fierce, urgent. "We need you more. Justice, listen to me—"

"They'll kill him!" I interrupted, my eyes locked on Skylar as he continued to struggle. One of the men drew back a fist, and it connected with Skylar's cheek with a sickening thud.

"They won't kill him," Bash said, his voice a cold certainty. "They need leverage. Now come on. And if you get hurt, he’ll never forgive himself.”

“I can’t…”

“You can.”

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, the kind that came more from frustration and helplessness than from true sorrow. I couldn't just leave Skylar, not after everything. But Bash was right—we had to make the calculated choice, the painful choice.

But they could kill him. If we left, they could…and I didn’t know how I would be able to live with that.

“Don’t,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You’ll get yourself caught.”

“They’ll kill him!” I shot back, my voice breaking.

“They need us alive,” Bash said, his tone cold, but his eyes burned with barely restrained fury. “He knows what he’s doing. You run in there, you’re dead.”

Tears blurred my vision as Skylar’s struggles slowed, his shouts muffled by the guards overpowering him. My body screamed at me to fight, to do something, anything, but Bash held me back, his grip unyielding.

---