Page 100 of Echos and Empires
He ignored the comment, knowing Liam would take the bait if he gave it to him. Knowing he was right about it all. It was the chance Emma left him with, and the last thing Chris wanted to do was screw it up.
Liam watched him closely, clearly seeing the struggle on his face. “Hey,” he said, the lightness gone from his tone. “It’s gonna work. You know that, right?”
Chris wanted to tell him no, wanted to tell him there was no way to be sure, that the plan was as fragile as they were. But what came out instead was, “Yeah.”
He felt Liam’s hand on his shoulder, a reassuring squeeze, and let himself believe the words. Let himself believe Emma.
Chris closed his eyes, let out a slow breath, and tried to focus on what they needed to do next. Emma had thrown him off, thrown him for a loop, but they could still make it work. They could still find a way to pull it together, even if it wasn’t what any of them had expected.
He’d make it work. “She’s lost her fucking mind. And I love her even more for it.”
Liam laughed again, and this time, Chris didn’t stop him.
It was a good sound, a hopeful one. The kind that made him believe they’d get through this after all. “You think it’ll really be that easy?” he asked, but it was more of a question to himself than to Liam.
“Not a chance,” Liam said, smirking. “But that’s never stopped us before.”
Chris nodded, felt the strength in the words, the challenge in them. He knew Emma would push him, push all of them, to do what they didn’t think was possible. He just didn’t know she’d do it so soon. Didn’t know she’d do it with a radio transmission and the faith that he’d pick up where she left off.
Emma tookher finger off the button, finally able to breathe with the words no longer spilling out.
The transmission was done. She was done. The truth was out, and so was all her energy. Her tears caught her by surprise, a wet trail of disbelief and hope that dripped onto her lips, tasting sweet, tasting like victory. She’d held it together long enough to finish, long enough to let Chris know what was coming. But now it hit her, the weight of it, the impossibility of it all. She was trembling with relief and exhaustion, barely able to stay on her feet, barely able to believe what they’d just done.
It was over. Finally over.
Shooting Vincent played over and over in her mind as she spoke, her brain running wild. From the danger, from the fear, from the adrenaline that coursed through her. From the truth. But now, there was nothing left to run from. There was nothing left but to begin again, to hope they’d all make it back. To let it all sink in.
The weight of it, the sheer magnitude of it, made the world spin around her. She leaned against the radio, bracing herself against the rush of emotions, the tears that kept coming. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to collapse in a heap and let the relief wash over her, wash away the fear that had been her constant companion since they first got to the island.
Since before that. Since the very beginning.
Emma closed her eyes, tried to catch her breath, tried to stop the world from spinning long enough to make sense of the jumble in her mind. The memories, so clear, so vivid, so alive, crowded in on her, each one a piece of the impossible puzzle they’d just put together.
The very first memory, the one that started it all, was of her basement. She was a different person then. A different Emma. Afraid. Alone. Too scared to ask for help. Too desperate not to. She was spinning the radio dial in a constant cycle, hoping to hear another voice and dreading what it would mean when she finally did.
When Chris’s voice came through, it was salvation. It was safety. It was everything she needed, and she hadn’t even known it yet.
And then they showed up, like something out of a dream, like something out of a nightmare, like something she couldn’t have imagined if she tried. Five men. All there for her. All ready to take her out of the small, suffocating world she’d locked herself in.
The memory of letting them rescue her, of letting herself trust them, was so bright and vivid she could barely believe it was real. She could barely believe any of this was real.
But it was.
And it was her reality.
They’d made it. Made it all the way to this moment.
Emma opened her eyes, blinked back the tears, tasted the salt of them on her tongue, the bitter sweetness they brought with them. It was the taste of hope. It was the taste of freedom.
It was hard to imagine how far they’d come. How much they’d risked to get here. Every step of the way, it was a mix of safe and dangerous, of moments when she thought she had it all figured out and moments when she thought she didn’t have a clue. When she thought they wouldn’t make it, when she thought she wouldn’t make it.
But they did.
They really did.
Emma let the disbelief wash over her, let it carry her back to the darkest moment of all, to the one she was sure would break her. The moment she killed Marcus to save herself. She could see it, could feel it, could remember the horror and relief of it as clearly as she could feel the blood on her hands. It felt like a lifetime ago, felt like a different Emma, felt like she’d never shake it.
But she did. She’d saved herself.
