Page 146 of Degradation

Before he can finish that sentence, before anyone else can react, the sound of a gun going off makes us all freeze.

Jackson groans, grabbing his side, but I can see the shot isn’t enough to properly wound.

I pull my dagger, flinging it and as it buries itself in his throat, he falls back, gurgling up blood.

The others stand there, frozen, staring at Jackson like they’ve never seen a dead man before.

I turn my back on them, deciding the immediate threat is over and look at Paitlyn. She still has the gun in her hand, still has it poised with her finger on the trigger like she’s about to take another shot.

I shake my head, smirking.She really is turning into a firecracker.And all it took was a good fucking from me.

Stepping up to her, I take the pistol from her and cup her chin. “Your aim is a little off.” I murmur.

She scowls at that. “I’m sure you can forgive me, considering I don’t have any fucking eyeballs.”

I can’t help it, I throw my head back and laugh. It feels carefree, it feels like something inside me lightens, some part of me eases for the first time in my life.

The atmosphere in the room seems to change and as I turn back, I can see Malik is smirking too. He never liked Jackson that much, so I doubt he gives a fuck what happened to him.

“Anyone else have something to say?” I ask.

A few of them shake their heads.

“Fine, this is how it goes. We pack our shit, we move out, and we continue on with the mission.”

“While you get to fuck her?” Mace says.

I meet his gaze, narrowing my eyes. “I get to fuck her. No one else. That woman there is mine, you have a problem with that, you don’t like it, fucking dare to challenge me, otherwise you can shut the hell up and get on with it.”

I don’t wait for a response. I don’t care to hear what they have to say. I grab my shit, quickly stuffing my things into a backpack. I don’t need most of this crap anyway. I just need my guns, my knife, and that most precious of jars.

With my right hand, I grab Paitlyn’s arm and pull her along after me. The others can finish up here, they can clear everything out and then burn the bunker.

If anyone comes looking for us, they’ll find nothing but a pile of ash.

My bike is parked beside the trucks. I pick Paitlyn up, putting her onto it and she gasps as she realises what she’s now sat on. I grab the spare helmet and pop it on her head. It’s a little big but it’ll have to do. I don’t have any leathers that will fit her, so I know I’ll have to be extra careful.

I swing my leg over, putting her between me and the handlebars. It’s not the conventional way of riding but the bike is big enough and this way, she’s shielded. With my foot, I kick the engine to life, and I set off, leaving a trail of dust behind us.

Pailtyn

Idon’t know where I am, though that feeling isn’t exactly new, now is it?

Devin put me in this room, on this bed, and then strolled out, locked the door and fucked off for what feels like hours.

I need to wash. I need to get whatever that stench is off my skin. I wrinkle my nose, trying to place what it is, and when I realise, my stomach drops.

Blood. I have blood on me. That’s what I can smell.

I spread my hands out over the duvet, trying to find the edge of the bed. I don’t know how big the room is but based on howmuch the door echoed when it was slammed shut, I’d say it’s big enough to feel like a bloody hall.

My bare feet meet the cool, smooth feeling of wooden floorboards. Wherever we are, this place is definitely an improvement from that concrete dungeon they held me in before.

I take small, gingerly steps, expecting to stub my toes at any minute. I don’t even know if there is a bathroom, but I can’t sit still any longer, playing the good little blind girl. Besides, the need to pee has been steadily growing and that fact has spurred me on.

When I come into contact with the wall, I feel almost relieved. My fingertips brush against what I’d guess is a silk wallpaper, it’s another sign that this place is fancier. I feel my way along, bumping into bits of furniture, a chest of drawers, a stool, something that could be a man’s vanity but I’m not so sure. As I make it to the corner, I realise how truly big this space is. It’s big enough to rival the Palace, though that thought does not give me any comfort at all.

I fumble my way around and then face plant into something solid, something wooden and big, something unforgiving too. A flash of pain explodes in my head, I step back, then lose my footing and end up colliding with the wall behind me.