speak, move, let him know that I’m alive. But it would only ensure he suffers more pain when he eventually lost me anyway, when he couldn’t save me.
It’s better for him to let me go now.
He touches my hair one more time, and then he’s gone.
Feeling Langston gone is what gets me. The tears start, but not because I lost him. I got to love Langston before my life ended, and that was worth everything it cost me. He’s the father of my children. I don’t care that he isn’t theirs by blood; he’s theirs by love.
Once I’m convinced he’s gone, I try to stand up. I need to kill my father. I need to destroy the last threat against my children. My body refuses, but I’ve never listened to what my body wants. My heart is the only thing that matters, and my heart isn’t injured. My heart is strong, strong enough to stay alive long enough to destroy my father.
I don’t know how I get to my feet, just that I do.
I see bodies lining the hallway, but I don’t linger to look at them. I quickly see the blood, the ash, the carnage. I don’t know if any of them are alive or dead, friend or enemy. I just know that I have to find my father and kill him.
After walking down a few hallways, I begin to lose consciousness again. I succeed in finding my father, just not in killing him.
I wake in a dark cell complete with bars, a damp floor, and a thin mattress on the floor. I don’t remember how I got here. I remember finding my father and then nothing.
I failed.
I don’t know how much time I have left to succeed.
“You’re finally awake,” a deep voice says.
I look in the direction of the voice, but the room is too dark to make out who is in the cell next to me.
“Who are you?”
“You don’t recognize my voice?” he chuckles.
It takes me a second but then I place it. “Corbin?”
I race over to the side of the cell he’s on. I reach my hand through the bars, and he takes my hand in his. I can’t believe I’m thankful that Corbin is in the next cell over.
I have so many questions to ask, and I don’t know which is most important to ask first.
“How long have I been out?”
Corbin opens his mouth to answer, but I’m already asking the next question.
“Where are we?
“Where is my father?
“Have you found a way out yet?
“What about killing my father?
“Are you hurt?
“What about Maxwell?
“How am I still alive?
“What about Langston? The kids?”
Corbin reaches through the bars and squishes my lips together to shut me up.
“If you’ll stop talking, I’ll tell you everything I know.”
I nod.
He lets go of my lips.
“You tried to attack your father after the explosion. I don’t know what you thought you were going to be able to do in the physical state you were in, but I saw you hunt for him, and I followed you. You got a good punch in before he knocked you out with some drug.”
That’s why my head is spinning.
“His men did the same to me, and I suspect Maxwell. He’s in the cell on the other side of you, but he’s in really bad shape. He hasn’t woken up yet.”
“What about you?” I ask.
“My left leg is badly burnt, third-degree if I had to guess. I suffered a concussion and a few broken ribs, but nothing I won’t recover from. I’ve been in here for over two weeks. You just arrived here yesterday.”
“Where have I been all this time?”
“The hospital. You had surgery. You got skin grafts for the burns, a cast for your broken wrist, and pain medication. A nurse came in this morning and injected you with some drugs. Your father wants you to live, unlike Maxwell and me. He gave us the minimal amount of medical attention to keep us alive.”
I study my body. I have on loose-fitting pajama pants, a cotton shirt, and slippers on my feet. My body looks clean, and I feel several bandages on my legs and arms. There’s a cast on my left wrist. I feel a dull ache, but nothing too intense, which means pain medicine is still pumping through me.
“Is Maxwell going to make it?” I ask.
“I don’t know. From what I can tell, he’s been torched all over his body too. He has an IV providing him nourishment, but that’s all I can tell until he