Page 18

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Cam

The water is cold, stabbing into me like shards of glass. My chest burns with every kick, every stroke, as I fight against the waves. The salt stings my throat, and my arms feel like lead. I force myself to keep moving.

“Paigelynn!” I shout, my voice hoarse and raw. The name tears out of me like it’s trying to rip something free. I twist in the water, scanning the dark surface for any sign of her.

But the water is empty.

The silence is worse than the cold. It feels like a fist closing around my chest. She has to be here. She was on the dock. She was watching me fight Ian. I look back toward the shoreline, hoping for some movement, some glimpse of her climbing onto the dock.

There’s nothing.

“Paigelynn!” I yell again, louder this time. The sound echoes across the water, but there’s no response.

Did she run? Did the guards take her?

Or… did the water take her?

I grit my teeth and kick harder, pushing myself through the waves toward the dock. My head dips beneath the surface more than once, the salty water filling my mouth and nose.

I keep going. I can’t stop.

Not until I find her.

My hand slams against the edge of the dock, and I drag myself up, my muscles screaming in protest. My boots hit the wood with a wet thud, and I stagger forward, coughing and shaking. The cold bites into me, but I ignore it.

My eyes scan the dock, desperate for any sign of her.

“Paigelynn!” I call again, my voice breaking. I am screaming into a void. I stumble farther down the dock, my boots slipping on the slick wood.

And then I see it.

Blood.

A smear of it on the dock’s surface, dark and wet. A handprint on the wall. Smears and swipes everywhere.

My stomach twists as I drop to my knees, my fingers brushing against it. It’s fresh. I can almost hear the struggle that happened here, the scuffle of boots, the grunts, the screams.

My chest tightens. She was here.

She fought .

I crawl forward, searching for more. She didn’t give up. She fought back.

But it wasn’t enough. They took her.

At least, I hope they just took her.

“Damn it,” I mutter, my voice trembling with anger. “Damn it!”

I push myself to my feet, my breath coming fast and shallow. My eyes scan the dock again, searching for any other clue, any sign of where they might have taken her. But the blood trail ends here, at the edge of the dock.

My heart sinks.

I turn toward the water, my chest heaving. The waves are calmer now, their surface rippling in the moonlight. I squint, my eyes scanning every inch. That’s when I see it—a shape floating in the distance, bobbing with the current.

My stomach drops. For a second, I can’t move.

Is it her? Did they fucking drown her? Did she kill herself?

I dive off the dock, the cold hitting me like a punch, stealing the air from my lungs. My arms cut through the water, each stroke fueled by panic and desperation. I reach the floating shape and grab it, pulling it toward me. The dark water shifts, revealing the truth.

It’s Ian.

His face is pale, his eyes wide and glassy, staring at nothing. His lips are parted, his mouth frozen in the shape of his last breath. There’s blood smeared across his forehead from an open wound, mixing with the saltwater. My hand tightens around his collar, shaking with rage.

“You deserved worse,” I mutter. I let him go, watching as his body drifts away, swallowed by the waves.

I dive again, my hands skimming the water, searching for something—anything. My heart pounds against my ribs as my lungs scream for air. When I resurface, coughing and gasping, the water remains empty.

She’s not here. She’s not in the water.

I pull myself back to the dock. I crawl onto the wood, dripping and trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I sit there for a moment, my head hanging, trying to piece together what happened. My mind races with possibilities.

The guards must have taken her. They were probably watching, waiting for the right moment to grab her while I was distracted.

I press against my wet pockets and hope. There it is. The penknife.

I grip it tight, my knuckles turning white. It’s my fault. I let this happen. I was too focused on Ian, too caught up in my own fight to protect her.

And now she’s gone.

I force myself to stand, my legs unsteady beneath me. The blood trail on the dock is chaotic, but it points to one place—the compound.

I start walking, my steps uneven but determined. My clothes cling to me, heavy and soaked, but I don’t care. The cold air bites at my skin. I barely feel it.

All I can think about is her. The way she trusted me, even when she didn’t have to.

I won’t fail her again.

The lights of the compound flicker in the distance, cutting through the trees. Smoke rises from somewhere inside, thick and black.

The fires from earlier. The alarms. The chaos I started.

The chaos my helpers started, too.

It’s still burning, still spreading. A small part of me feels satisfaction at the sight. The cabal is bleeding.

But the thought doesn’t last long. She’s still inside. Going back in for her is suicide. She's probably dead already. Or being kept alive just long enough for surgery.

Which means I have to get to her before it’s too late.

The path to the compound is rough, winding through thick trees and jagged rocks. My boots slip more than once on the wet ground, but I catch myself each time.

Every step feels heavier than the last, my body aching from the fight, but I keep moving.

My mind keeps replaying Ian’s words, taunting me.

You’re nothing. Just a tool Dominic picked up to control.

Dominic. His name leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

I thought he saved me.

I thought he cared.

But he didn’t.

I was just another piece on his board, another pawn for him to move around. It took me years to see it. Years to realize I wasn’t part of his family.

I was just part of his plan.

Ian was no different. The way he talked about Paigelynn, about me, about the cabal—it’s all control.

Power . That’s all they care about.

They don’t see us as people. They never have. To them, Paigelynn is just a heart.

I’m just a weapon.

But I’m done being their weapon.

And I don’t dare let myself think about that “spare parts” comment.

That thought gives me strength as I reach the edge of the compound.

The lights are brighter here, harsh and artificial, cutting through the darkness.

I crouch behind a wide tree, scanning the area.

The main gate is crawling with guards, their radios crackling as they bark orders.

A drone hovers overhead, its light sweeping the ground in slow, deliberate arcs.

I take a deep breath, forcing my body to stay calm.

I know this place. I’ve studied it. I’ve been inside it. I know where the weak spots are, where the cracks in their system lie.

And I’m going to use them.

I move quickly, keeping low to the ground as I skirt the edge of the compound. My clothes are dark, wet, blending into the shadows. The sound of my breathing is loud in my ears, but I know it’s just my nerves.

The guards won’t hear me. Not if I’m careful.

There’s a security panel near the maintenance entrance, hidden behind a cluster of gasoline cans.

I reach it without being seen. My fingers are stiff from the cold, but I force them to move, prying open the panel with the knife.

The wires inside are tangled and messy, but I know what I’m looking for.

A cut here, a twist there, and the cameras in this section go dark. The guards won’t notice for a while, not with everything else going on. These offices are empty at night.

I slip inside the maintenance entrance, the door creaking softly as I close it behind me. The air inside is warmer. It’s stale and metallic, heavy with the smell of oil and machinery. The hallways are dimly lit, the shadows stretching long and thin.

Every sound feels too loud—my footsteps, my breath, the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.

I move through the halls like a ghost, my steps careful and deliberate. I don’t know where Paigelynn is, but I know this group. They’ll keep her somewhere secure, somewhere they think she can’t escape.

Most likely, they're preparing her for harvest.

The thought makes my blood boil, but I push it down.

I need to stay focused.

I hear voices ahead, faint and muffled. I press myself against the wall, my grip tightening on the knife.

She’s alive. She’s fighting.

And I’m going to find her.

I'm going to save her.

And, finally, I'm going to earn her.