motionless on the ground. Some of them try to crawl outside, leaving sickening trails of blood behind.
Scar’s blonde hair turned to a dark shade of red. Blood smudges her clothes and drips to the floor like water. Ghost and Mist are all bloodied, too, but since they’re holding guns, I think it’s because of her killings rather than theirs.
I search for Shadow, but he’s already running my way. The front of his white T-shirt soaks in deep crimson. Alarm grips me like a vice. I’m shuddering now and my throat feels scratchy. I still manage to grab his arm and stand to my feet, frantically checking him out and panting.
He must be injured.
He’ll die.
Just like Dad, Shadow will die because he didn’t leave me.
He grips both my wrists in one hand and lifts my chin with the other. I’m crying and I must appear like a mess, but Shadow still looks at me with the clearest overcast eyes and with so much care that my heart nearly falls apart.
How could I even think that he’d abandon me?
“I’m fine,” he whispers and gathers me to him. “I’m sorry I was late, beautiful.”
Loud ugly cries leave me as I encircle his back with both hands. My shoulder aches, but I hang onto him with all my might.
“Take me out of here,” I murmur against his chest.
Instead of carrying me as he did earlier, Shadow pulls away from me. I frown.
I stare at the other three. Scar already disappeared. Only Ghost and Mist remain. The stoic guard is taking President Joe out of the blood bath.
Ghost cocks his head and motions at Shadow and the door with a gun.
Shadow grinds his teeth, and I have a super bad feeling about this.
Mist walks to my side in brisk steps. To her credit, she tries to wipe the blood off her face, but it’s still forming rivulets down her neck. “Come with me, Zoe.”
Shadow plants a kiss on my forehead and nods. I shake my head violently, knowing that if I let him go, he’ll go somewhere I can’t reach.
The Pit.
So I do the one thing I know will keep him by my side.
I fall over and pretend to faint.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Zoe is many things but an actress isn’t one of them.
Her lips tighten in a straight line and her hands fists in my T-Shirt. Apparently, she remembers that’s not how to play unconsciousness and unclenches her hands.
If she were a better actress, she would’ve parted her lips and relaxed into me.
I lay her on the bed in my room in the safe house. Strands of her untidy blonde hair splay on the pillow in a chaotic maze. She’s still the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Zoe can be a walking zombie and she’ll still be the most exotic thing in sight.
Leaving her earlier had been the hardest thing I did in my entire fucking life. The way she looked at me with a deep sense of betrayal still guts me. I did it to call Scar and Mist who had my back when I stormed into President Joe’s compound. I didn’t realise Ghost followed until later. However, the thought that Zoe thinks I’d ever leave her unprotected left a shard in my soul.
Not that I should complain. What I have in mind will sink that shard deeper.
My eyes narrow on the blood marring her camisole, but I’m sure she wasn’t shot. I kept an eye on her the whole time I was butchering those wannabe mercenaries. I had Aaron come over before I carried her to the room. After some aristocratic bitching about how we always bother him, he bandaged Zoe’s arm, saying she doesn’t need stitches. Needless to say, he figured Zoe was faking being unconscious and I had to kick him out before he spilt water on her face.
My hand is smudged with blood and so is my T-shirt. I yank and toss it aside then I take a quick shower, but don’t bother with clothes. I know how much she hates the bloody version, and I’ll do everything to not expose her to this image. That only goes as long as she’s not threatened. I’ll paint the whole fucking world red if something happens to her.
A few cuts decorate my torso, but it isn’t something I’d lose sleep over.
When I re-join Zoe, she’s still in the same position. I smile when her pupils move beneath her lids.
I dry my hair with a towel and stare at her from the