Page 12

CHAPTER

NINE

Cam

The room is quiet, except for Paigelynn’s soft breathing. Her head rests on my chest, her body curled against mine. The blankets are warm, but I can’t sleep. My mind keeps spinning, trying to plan, trying to figure out how to keep her safe.

Then I hear it—voices in the hallway. Low, murmuring voices. My body tenses instantly, every instinct screaming.

“Cam,” Paigelynn whispers, stirring against me. Her voice is soft and drowsy. She blinks up at me with tired eyes.

“Shh.” I press a finger to my lips and sit up. My heart pounds as I focus on the voices. They’re getting louder. One of them is deep and commanding—Makiah Rooney. The other is sharper, raspier, and every word feels like a knife scraping against metal.

Mother.

I knew this was coming. Got stupid. Got horny and needed a break and needed – needed her . Paigelynn.

Which means I got sloppy.

At some point, they were going to corner us. I’m not surprised. I’m more shocked that they didn’t interrupt sooner. This place is a Panopticon of sorts. You never know where they can see you, but you know it’s more invasive than you can imagine.

I just invaded Paigelynn, though. They can’t unring that bell. We need to use it to our advantage.

Bang bang bang

“Get up,” I hiss at Paigelynn. She sits up quickly, clutching the blanket to her chest. Fear flashes in her eyes as I grab my shirt, pulling it over my head, dressing quickly. Paigelynn does the same. The voices are closer now, sharp and cutting, echoing through the hallway.

“You’ve let this go on long enough,” The Mother says, her voice frail but still filled with venom. “This ends tonight.”

More banging on the door. It’s a bit for show, because we all know damn well they can have guards electronically open anything.

My breath catches as the door bursts open, slamming against the wall.

Mother steps inside, dragging her oxygen tank behind her.

The faint hiss of the machine fills the silence, a constant, unnerving sound.

She’s thin, her frame almost skeletal, and her pale skin looks as though it might tear under the weight of her sharp, cold gaze.

But her presence dominates the room, her cruelty radiating like heat.

Makiah Rooney follows her, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway.

His expression is grim, his lips pressed into a thin line, but his eyes burn with something deeper—anger, betrayal, righteousness.

He doesn’t even try to hide it as his gaze lands on me, then shifts to Paigelynn, who sits frozen on the bed, clutching a pillow at her midsection.

Mother’s eyes sweep over the scene—me standing shoeless, Paigelynn disheveled and flushed. Her lips curl into a smile, cold and triumphant.

“Well,” she says, her voice dry and rasping, “I see we're moved up a level. How did my heart perform as you made love to it, Mario?” She licks her upper lip and smiles at me.

Paigelynn flinches at the words, but she doesn’t look away. I step in front of her, blocking Mother’s view, my fists clenching at my sides.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say, my voice low and firm. My body feels like a coiled spring, ready to snap. Mother’s smile widens, her pale hand tightening on the handle of her oxygen tank.

“Oh, but I should,” she says, her tone light and mocking. “You’ve always been so predictable, Mario.”

Her words hit a nerve, but I don’t move.

“You’ve betrayed us,” Makiah says, his deep voice cutting through the tension. His eyes lock on me, full of disgust. “You’ve betrayed your own mother. You’ve betrayed the prophecy. And you’ve betrayed her .”

His gaze shifts to Paigelynn as he points. Paigelynn stiffens, her breath catching.

“Makiah,” Mother says, her voice soft but commanding. “Calm yourself. We’ll deal with the girl soon enough.”

Makiah shakes his head, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “She’s tainted,” he growls, his voice trembling with rage. “The prophecy is ruined. She was meant to be untouched. Pure. And now she’s?—”

I blink. He can’t be serious. Why is he talking about the fake cult? We don’t need to pretend about the Viking Virgins anymore, so either Makiah’s just being an ass, or –

“Stop.” Paigelynn’s voice cuts through the room, trembling but sharp. She pushes herself off the bed, clutching the pillow like a shield as she glares at Mother. “I’m not a heart. I’m not pure anymore. And I’m not yours.”

Mother’s smile vanishes, her expression hardening. She tilts her head, her oxygen tank hissing faintly beside her. “Oh, my dear,” she says, her tone dripping with mock pity. “You’ve always been mine. You were so easy to fool otherwise.”

Paigelynn shakes her head, her voice rising. “No. I’m not a prophecy. I’m not a thing. I’m?—”

“Enough,” Mother snaps, her frail voice cutting through the room like a whip. Her hand trembles as she lifts it, but her eyes are sharp and cold. “You don’t get to speak. You don’t get to decide. You were created for this. You exist for this. Nothing more.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” I say, stepping forward. My voice is low, but it vibrates with anger.

Mother’s gaze shifts to me, her lips curling into another smile. “And you,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “My loyal dog, finally off his leash. You’ve disappointed me, Mario. But I suppose I should have seen this coming. You’ve always been so… weak.”

“Say what you want,” I growl, stepping closer. “But you’re not taking her.”

Mother raises her hand. The room fills with guards. They pour in through the doorway, rifles raised, eyes cold and unfeeling. I count five, maybe six. My heart pounds, but I force myself to stay calm.

I know this compound better than anyone. I know the weak spots, the shadows, the exits. If I can just create enough chaos, I can get Paigelynn out. I have a new tool now.

One I acquired in a hug.

Makiah steps forward, his face dark with anger. “Step aside, Mario,” he says, his voice heavy. “You’ve already done enough damage.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” I snap. My eyes dart to Paigelynn, who’s watching me with wide, terrified eyes.

“Fine,” I say, stepping to the side, my hands raised slightly. “Take her.”

The guards move forward, cautious. Mother’s smile widens, triumphant.

But she doesn’t see what’s coming.

None of them do.

We’re cornered and every plan I thought I had has to be ditched. We’re starting anew in more ways than one now, and that includes suddenly needing to escape.

I have no plan.

Starting with violence is always a good step, though.

I grab the lamp from the table and smash it against the light fixture above us.

The bulb explodes, plunging the room into darkness, shrapnel falling, catching in my hair.

The guards shout, their voices overlapping as they stumble in the shadows.

I move quickly, pulling Paigelynn down to the floor.

A piece of broken glass scrapes the edge of my hand.

“Stay low,” I whisper. “Stay quiet.”

I can hear Mother’s voice rising above the chaos, sharp and furious. “Find them! Don’t let them escape!”

A flashlight clicks on. I move fast. I grab a chair, swinging it hard into the legs of the first guard.

He crashes to the ground with a grunt. I kick his rifle away before he can reach it, unable to spare the second to bend and grab it.

Another guard moves toward me, but I pull him by the collar, slamming him into the wall.

His head hits with a dull thud and he slumps to the floor.

“Cam!” Paigelynn’s voice cuts through the dark, high and panicked.

“I’m here,” I call back. “Stay down.”

A third guard grabs my arm, but I twist free, driving my elbow into his ribs. He doubles over, gasping. I shove him aside. My hands are shaking, adrenaline coursing through me, but I can’t stop.

Not yet.

I take Paigelynn’s hand, pulling her toward the window. “Follow my lead,” I whisper.

She doesn’t argue. I push open the window. The cool night air rushes in, and I help her climb through first, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Stop them!” Mother’s voice echoes behind us, full of outrage.

I climb through the window just as a gunshot rings out, the sound deafening in the quiet night. The bullet hits the frame above me, sending splinters flying, but we’re already moving.

"CEASE! NO GUN SHOTS! Don't shoot!" Mother screams. "You might hit the girl! Do not damage her!"

The compound is alive with noise—alarms blaring, guards shouting, footsteps pounding against the ground. I pull Paigelynn into the shadows, my grip firm on her wrist. We move quickly, darting between buildings and sticking to the darkest corners.

“Cam,” she whispers, her voice shaking. “Where are we going?”

“Out,” I say simply. My mind is racing, mapping out our escape route.

I know the compound like the back of my hand.

I know where the cameras are, where the guards patrol, and where the weak spots in their defenses lie.

If Mother anticipates my next move and sends guards to the docks, I’ll deal with that when it happens.

I need to simultaneously hold different plans in my head.

When one fails, try the next.

Paigelynn's gait is off and I realize I'm about to make an enormous mistake.

One that little hug from Sandor can fix easily.

"Stop," I hiss at her, then bend to the ground, fumbling in my pocket for the ankle monitor key. I produce it, the darkness making it hard to see.

"What are you doing?"

"Quit moving."

She goes still. The lock is easy to open and she lets out a big sigh of relief when I remove the monitor, though she winces, too. The skin is raw red, angry and possibly infected.

We'll treat that later. If we make it out of here alive.

There's a golf cart about fifteen feet away, out in the open. I form a quick, impulsive plan and run for it, hoping this pays off for us. Paigelynn lets out a whimper, then goes silent.

I find the back hatch on the cart, and tuck the monitor under a bucket filled with tools, then make it back to her, grab her hand and move faster.

They'll be chasing themselves. The only thing better would be if I could put the monitor on Barbara Luisi's spoiled little Yorkie, but beggars can't be choosers.

Finally, we reach the edge of the compound. The fence looms ahead, tall and foreboding. I glance back at Paigelynn, her face pale but determined.

“We’re almost there,” I whisper. “One last push.”

She nods, and together we slip into the night, the compound fading behind us.