Page 148 of Fallen Empire
Hope flared, sharp and blinding.
Savannah.
His grip on my hair was still a vise, burning against my scalp, but rage had a way of sharpening everything. I twisted hard, drove my palm into his nose in an upward motion with every ounce of fury in me. Just like Jaxson had taught me years ago.
The impact cracked through his skull with a sickening pop. He stumbled back, one hand flying to his face.
"You fucking bitch!" he roared.
I didn’t waste a second.
I ran.
Straight to her.
“Savannah,” I choked out, my knees hitting the floor so hard I didn’t feel it. My hands cradled her face before I could think, before I could process the cold sweat slicking her skin.
“No, no, no… baby, stay with me. I’m here now. I got you. I swear to God, I’ve got you.”
Tears blurred everything. My voice shook as I whispered to every god I’d ever heard of, every power I didn’t even believe in, begging them not to take her. Not like this.
Her head lifted slowly, on her own, and I pressed my forehead to hers. My hands slid down, gripping her shoulders, then her thigh, grounding her. Groundingme.
And then I felt it.
Warm liquid seeping into my palm.
I pulled my hand back.
Blood.
Savannah’s blood.
My stomach twisted as my gaze dropped to her leg. There wasn’t just one wound. There were two. And they weren’t clean cuts. The edges were jagged, flesh torn and raw.
It hit me like a sledgehammer.
He hadn’t just stabbed her. He’d twisted the blade, grinding it in slow, deliberate circles, like her thigh was a screw and he was holding the tool to drive it deeper.
A sound tore from my chest—part gasp, part growl—and for the first time since I’d been dragged into this hellhole, I wanted to kill him more than I wanted to survive.
I leaned in close, my lips brushing her ear. “You have to fight, Savannah. One last time. You give it everything you have left, and I swear I’ll do the same. We’ll beat him. Together.”
Her lashes fluttered, slow but deliberate, and I saw it. Saw the fight clawing its way back into her. Like she was dragging every shred of strength from the deepest part of her soul for what was coming next.
I pulled back just enough to see her face, her breathing shifting from shallow and broken to something steadier, stronger.
Then, a shadow shifted in the corner of my vision.
And I saw them. Four men in the room behind her. Sitting around a table. Cards in hand. Cigarette smoke curling in the air. Like her life, our lives, were nothing more than background noise.
My gaze dropped to the table.
Guns.
Just lying there. Inches from their hands. Like they were waiting for a war to break out.
For a heartbeat, I let myself imagine it—lunging forward, grabbing one, and ending this here and now. But it was only a flicker, a dangerous thought that flared and faded before I could act.
