Page 70 of Redemption's Inferno

Emilie shrugged. “They also don’t care about working, so it might as well be my club.” She wanted to run to Chains and see how he was, but she needed to give Joe and the others time to get here, so she had to keep talking.

“Well, you came to see your disgusting boyfriend—don’t you think he looks better now?” She laughed bitterly. “Dreads are ugly.”

Emilie stared at the floor where Franny had let each lock fall after she cut it off. He had little stumps all over his head now, but she barely noticed as she took in his much leaner frame, the bruises all over his torso and the blood dripping from his nose. He had a black eye and he was filthy. She swallowed her horror and turned to Franny.

“This won’t bring Gary back,” she whispered.

“No, but I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing one of you will watch the other die…” She turned to Chains and slapped him hard across the face. His eyes fluttered open and a slight frown creased his brow when he saw Emilie. “Are you sure you want to die for her, big guy? Huh? You sure you want her to watch you die and spend the rest of her life reliving this moment?”

“Em…” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“It’s all right,” she said in a voice so cold she almost didn’t recognize it. “Just because you broke my heart doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to save you.”

Franny snorted. “Seriously? You’re nine months pregnant! Did you really come for this guy after he broke your heart? Really? Can you possibly be that stupid?”

“I spent eight years of my life feeling guilty for letting another man die once… I couldn’t live with myself if I did it again.” She moved closer to Chains, keeping her back pointed away from Franny so she wouldn’t see the odd bulge in her pants.

“Then maybe I should kill you instead!” Franny was thoughtful. “If killing him isn’t going to break your heart, I know killing you will break his.”

“If he loved me, he shouldn’t have left!” Emilie snapped, cutting her eyes in his direction. She knew he’d seen the WD-40 in the back of her pants and though he didn’t move, she could see the intensity in his eyes; he was letting her know she needed to use it.

“A bastard like him doesn’t love anybody!” Franny growled, her eyes gleaming dangerously. “I’m sorry you had to be the one who finally meant something to him, though. I like you, Emilie. I hated putting that disgusting cat in your car—I hope it didn’t make you nauseous.”

Emilie scowled. “That was you? Why? What was that ridiculous message?”

Franny laughed. “It was meant to let him know I was coming for him—and for you.”

“None of this will bring back Gary,” Emilie said gently. “Is this what he would want for you? For your children?”

“Shut up!” Franny glared.

How long had it been? Would Joe and the others arrive in time to help? Emilie’s back was on fire again, the baby pressing down on the sciatic nerve so hard she nearly grabbed her stomach so she could shake it and move him around. She knew that was a ludicrous thought—at this stage the baby barely had any room left and the doctor had said he’d moved into position already. Pressing her lips together and trying to ignore the pain, she took another step towards Chains and the wall with the whips.

“You’re not planning to get to the whips, are you?” Franny raised her eyebrows and chuckled. “I’ve seen you wield those things and you’re vicious, so step away from them.”

Emilie moved closer to Chains instead, not sure what else to do. Then she saw the bullet wound. It was behind his right shoulder, the skin jagged and raw, blood still dripping down his back and right leg. It didn’t look particularly recent, which meant he’d lost a lot of blood. She closed her eyes. I’m sorry, little one, she thought, one hand on her stomach. I can’t let him die. Not after he tried so hard to protect us.

“Now what?” Emilie asked Franny in a voice that was surprisingly calm. “He’s already half-dead and even though I don’t want him to die on my watch, he’s not the love of my life—you know Jamie and I have just been waiting for the baby to come before we tell Viggo?” She had no idea where that came from, but the words fell from her lips easily.

“You really are something,” Franny stared at her in disbelief. “Do you fuck around with everybody?”

Emilie would have been affronted if she wasn’t so afraid for Chains. Except the smug bastard actually had a small smile on his face; he knew she was lying and found it amusing. If they got out of this alive, she would make him pay for that. Until then, there was only one thing left to do. She took three quick steps towards Franny, who was momentarily distracted, and pulled the WD-40 from her pants. She depressed the button and shot the aerosol chemical right into Franny’s face. Franny screamed, clawing at her eyes as she turned her back on Emilie. Emilie ran to the wall and yanked down her favorite whip. It was long and thick, with a sturdy handle and a tail that would leave a mark. She turned and let it slice through the air, catching Franny across the back and making her scream again. She clawed at the air now, trying to grab the whip, but Emilie was fast, pulling it back and snapping it towards her again. She repeated the motions, flicking her wrist expertly, so the whip slashed exactly where she wanted it to hit, cutting the skin on Franny’s hands and face.

Franny wasn’t done yet, though, and she hurled herself in Emilie’s direction, knocking them both to the floor. Emilie was momentarily dazed, pain shooting through her abdomen as she lay there.

“Em!” Chains’ raspy voice roused her and she gripped the WD-40 with her left hand, spraying it in the other woman’s face at point-blank range this time. Franny screamed bloody murder just as the doors burst open. Emilie fell back with a moan.

“Emilie!” Joe ran towards her but she waved him off.

“I’m okay!” she cried. “Don’t let Franny get away! And someone get to Chains!” She was breathing heavily as she watched Viggo hesitate before pivoting towards the man she loved, who was no longer moving, his head hanging lifelessly on his chest.

“Chains?” Viggo approached him warily, his heart beginning to slam against his ribs as he realized their big friend wasn’t moving at all. His body hung limply from the spider web, blood covering his torso and face, his trademark dreadlocks gone. “You’re gonna be okay, mate,” he whispered, wrapping one arm around Chains and lifting him enough to slacken the chains holding his arms. “Jamie! Jamie, I need help!”

A moment later, Jamie, Karl and Dante came bounding into the room. “Is there a key?” Karl called, looking around.

“There’s a master!” Dante yelled. “Hold on, I’m getting it!”

“Is he breathing?” Jamie moved to the other side of Chains’ body, helping to hold up the large man.

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