Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 106292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Creeping out into the small hallway, I slowly walk around to the courtroom and peer inside. People are up in arms, some desperately trying to defend Nikolai’s actions, when the asshole running this thing suggests that he’s a callous, selfish man who’s only interested in his own gain, calling Nikolai an enemy to the brotherhood of The Circle.
Sawyer stands and defends his father, insisting how he’s dedicated his whole adult life to The Circle, a loyal servant of Empire, and how one moment of weakness shouldn’t be held against him. Cara gets up beside him, arguing right along with her brother as Nikolai watches them both with fondness in his eyes. My heart almost breaks, only the moment is gone when the guy running the show calls Cara out for speaking out of place. Because of course they wouldn’t allow a woman to have an opinion in the court.
Nikolai’s wife throws herself to her feet with a gun in hand, and just like that, it’s all on.
Everyone is out of their seats, and I take it as a sign from the sex gods above—it’s go time.
Throwing myself down, I scurry across the back of the room, terrified I’m about to be caught. I make it to the edge of the back row of chairs to where Harrison stands, his hand hovering over the gun at his side, but as the room starts to find a little bit of control, I realize it’s now or never.
Reaching up, I unhook the keys from his belt, and as I start to bolt for the door, my gaze comes to a startling stop on Dalton’s. He watches my every step, and I prepare for the worst. Only, I see heartbreak flash in his eyes, and he gives me a small smile, silently telling me it’s okay to run.
I hold back tears, not having the time to get emotional, but I find myself mouthing those words I never thought I’d say. “I love you.”
He simply tips his head, not wanting to give me away, and without a backward glance, I fly out the door and race back down the hallway. My heart pounds, unable to believe I just did that. Zade’s going to kill me when he finds out. I’ll be locked away, tortured, and tormented—assuming he catches me, of course.
Seconds pass, but it feels like a lifetime. I’m moving too slowly.
The modern facility starts morphing back into the old, rustic underground bullshit I’m used to, and I find myself pulling to a stop, glancing left and right. One way leads me to my freedom, taking me back out into the train tunnels, and the other way leads down to the prison cells.
I could get out of here—free myself and run as far as my feet can take me. I could board a plane and get my ass halfway across the world, somewhere Zade won’t be able to find me. But where the hell could I go? Could I even get through airport security without him finding me?
Knowing the likelihood of me surviving on my own, I take the road less traveled and drag my ass down to the cells. It’s bad enough coming down here with the guys, but doing it by myself has me wanting to double over and blow chunks across the dimly lit tunnels.
The further I get, the more my footsteps seem to echo. I sound like a fucking elephant racing through here. If Zade hasn’t realized I’m gone yet, then he will soon. Hell, all he’d have to do is follow the sound of the stampede racing through the tunnels.
Reaching the end, I slow my steps, not having considered that Harrison could have had someone step in for him while he attended the trial, but I find the gate left wide open with not a soul in sight.
My hands shake, and I can barely hear myself think over the heavy beating of my pulse in my ear. This is fucking insane. If I live through this, I’ll have to buy myself a big juicy burger as a reward. Maybe even a milkshake to wash it down.
Fuck, what the hell is wrong with me? Concentrate, Oakley.
Holding my breath, I slip through the gate, feeling as though this is some kind of trap, but I don’t have the luxury to work it out right now. Time is not on my side.
Reaching the old, rickety stairs, I grip the railing and hurry down them, wishing Empire had bothered to spend a little bit of that blood money to upgrade their prison system. Hell, would some more lighting go astray? Perhaps a set of concrete stairs?
My feet hit the ground and everything else fades away. All that matters is getting to my father.
Hurrying through the long corridors, I try to remember just how far down I need to go, my gaze locked on the left, desperately searching for that one familiar face. “Dad?” I hiss through the darkness. “Dad?”