Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 114551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
My heart races, the adrenaline pumping heavily through my veins as I make my way around the room, moving shit out of the way and checking for Dalton as dread fills me. Being in that room offered us an extra level of safety from the blast, but if Dalton was still out in the kitchen . . . fuck.
“He’s not here,” I say, limping toward the door as I lift my hand to my neck, unconsciously feeling for Venom. Before a new panic sets in, I remember she’s safe in her enclosure, locked securely in the penthouse of the DeVil hotel.
“Fuck,” Zade says, moving in behind me and following me out of the room. “We need to find him and get out of here. Every fucking second that passes, Oakley only gets further away.”
“What?” Sawyer grunts. “After all of this, you’re still gonna go after her? Just give her the fucking night to breathe. Where the hell can she go anyway? Besides, my sister is still in there somewhere. My mom, everyone we fucking know. We’re not leaving until I know they’re safe.”
Zade clenches his jaw but wisely keeps his mouth shut, and despite how much I want to go after Oakley, this is where we need to be. Empire is burning around us, and now more than ever, it’s important for Zade to stand up and show his people that he can rise to the occasion. What better time to prove your worth than in the face of a tragedy?
My eyes widen in horror as I move into the kitchen. Soot-covered bodies litter the floor, lying motionless in the rubble as flames quickly move in their direction. Knives protrude from the charred drywall after the blast sent them soaring across the kitchen like bullets.
The thick layer of broken porcelain crunches beneath my shoes as I search the kitchen, my gaze shifting over the faces of the bodies around me. I take another careful step, noticing the broken pipes shooting water over the sink, but as Zade curses and shoves past me, I freeze.
I follow his gaze across the kitchen and dart after him, finding Dalton slumped against the wall, a knife plunged deep into his thigh. “Fuck,” Sawyer says, racing after us and trying to keep low to avoid the growing cloud of smoke over us.
Zade falls to his knees beside Dalton and shoves his fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse as Sawyer and I hold our breath, watching with wide eyes. The seconds seem to pass like lifetimes when Zade finally lets out a sigh of relief. “Fuck, he has a pulse,” he says, choking on the smoke. “It’s weak, but if we don’t get him out of here soon, he’ll be dead.”
Thank fuck.
Moving in on Dalton’s other side, I lean down and grab his blood-stained arm, pulling it over my shoulders as Zade does the same. Then being careful of the knife sticking out of his thigh, we lift him and turn to the exit, the room now fully engulfed in flames.
“Fuck,” Sawyer grunts, his hand at his head, searching for a way out through the thick smoke and the eerie orange glow. He moves up ahead of us when a loud crash rumbles through the kitchen, the ceiling caving in over us. Sawyer backs up, barely making it through the debris without getting scorched alive. “Go back,” he roars. “It’s blocked. We can’t get through.”
FUCK.
Without hesitation, Zade and I whirl around and head back toward the room we just came out of, moving right up to the small window Oakley had barely managed to crawl through five minutes ago. Sawyer moves in next to Zade and takes Dalton’s weight as Zade steps up to the window and grips the frame.
He pulls himself up, having to go at an angle to fit his shoulders through, and with a little wriggling, he pulls himself through the window and drops to the street on the other side, ready to catch Dalton.
Glancing at Sawyer, we try to figure out how the hell we’re going to get Dalton through that fucking window, and I have to admit, this isn’t exactly the first time we’ve had to shove an almost dead body through a small space while a building was ablaze at our backs.
Good times. I’m sure one day we might even laugh about this, but first, we need to make sure we survive this shit to be able to laugh about it later.
Not having the chance to really think this through, we reach down and grab him by the thighs, my hand on his back to steady him as we hoist him up. Hoping like fuck the hilt of the knife doesn’t catch on the window frame and tear his thigh into ribbons, we painstakingly feed his head through the window before finally getting his big fucking shoulders through.