Page 22

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

Cam

The alarm blares through the compound, loud and jarring, echoing off every wall. The sprinklers activate, spraying cold water everywhere, soaking the halls and turning the floor slick beneath my boots. It’s chaos.

Exactly what I wanted. My outside help came through for me in the nick of time.

I move quickly through the maze of corridors, keeping low and staying in the shadows. My breath comes fast, my body tense, every muscle ready to strike. I know where she is. I can feel it, like a pull in my chest.

Paigelynn.

I’m coming.

I swipe the stolen access card at another locked door, watching as the light flickers from red to green. The door hisses open, and I slip inside. The halls here are quieter, but not for long.

The thought of her trapped, alone, makes my stomach twist. I can’t stop thinking about what they might be doing to her. I see her face in my mind—afraid but defiant, the way she always is. She’s strong, but she shouldn’t have to be.

Not like this.

The sound of voices pulls me back to the present. I press myself against the wall, peeking around the corner. Two guards are standing by a door, their rifles slung over their shoulders. Water drips from their helmets, and they’re shouting to each other over the alarm.

“She’s inside,” one of them says, his voice sharp. “We need backup!”

“Makiah’s on his way,” the other replies. “Just hold the door until he gets here.”

My jaw tightens at the sound of his name.

My anger flares, but I force it down.

Anger won’t help me now.

Focus will.

I grip the knife at my side, its weight comforting. I move silently, my steps careful, and close the distance between me and the guards. My arm wraps around a guard's neck, pulling him back into a chokehold. He struggles, his body jerking, but it doesn’t take long before he goes limp.

I lower him to the ground, quiet and careful.

The second guard turns, his eyes widening in surprise. He opens his mouth to shout, but I’m faster. I lunge at him, slamming the hilt of my knife into his temple. He collapses in a heap, his handgun clattering to the floor.

Finally. A gun.

I step over their bodies and swipe the access card again, holding the gun carefully. Red light. I grab the card from the second guard and bingo – I'm in.

The door slides open, and I’m hit with the sharp, sterile smell of antiseptic. The room is cold, the air heavy with tension.

And there she is.

Paigelynn is strapped to a metal chair in the center of the room, her arms pinned down, her hair plastered to her face from the sprinklers.

A doctor stands over her, holding a hypodermic needle in one hand.

His other hand grips her shoulder, forcing her still as she struggles against the restraints.

“Get off her!” I roar, my voice cutting through the noise.

The doctor startles, his head snapping toward me. For a second, he’s frozen, his face pale. Then he moves, lunging toward Paigelynn with the needle.

I’m faster.

I cross the room in two steps, grabbing his arm and twisting it hard. The needle falls from his hand, clattering to the floor.

He shouts in pain, but I don’t care. I slam my fist into his face, feeling the crunch of bone under my knuckles as I'm hitting him with the hand holding the gun, the pistol whipping well deserved. He crumples to the ground, unconscious.

“Cam!” Paigelynn’s voice is shaky but strong. Relief floods through me as I look at her, her eyes wide and desperate.

“I’ve got you,” I say, my voice steady. “Hold on.”

I shove the gun in my waistband and start working on the straps holding her down, my hands moving quickly despite the tremble in them, freeing her quickly.

The room is spinning with noise—the alarm, the sprinklers, the pounding of boots in the distance—but all I care about is getting her out of here.

Then I hear it. Her voice.

“Mario,” Mother says, her tone sharp and cold. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

I freeze for a moment, my body tense. Slowly, I turn to face her, reaching for my firearm.

She stands in the doorway, her oxygen tank hissing behind her, her frail body soaked and trembling but her gaze steady. Her pale lips curl into a smile, cruel and mocking, wet hair and clothing making her look weaker than ever.

“I should have known you’d turn on us,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “You always were weak.”

“Shut up,” I snap, the words coming out before I can stop them. My hands curl into fists at my sides. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, but I do,” she replies, her smile widening. “I know you’re a traitor. I know you turned your back on the family that saved you.”

“You didn’t save me,” I shout. “You used me. Just like you’re using her.”

Her eyes narrow, her smile fading. “You don’t understand anything,” she says. “Everything I’ve done has been for the greater good. For us .”

“No,” I say firmly. “It’s all been for you .”

She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can, Makiah Rooney steps into the room. His broad shoulders fill the doorway, and his face is dark with anger, hair wet and pushed back like a seal.

“This ends now,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

I don’t hesitate. I move toward him, readying my gun, but he meets me halfway. We collide, our bodies slamming together. His fist connects with my ribs, hard enough to make me groan. I don’t back down. I aim the gun, but he grabs my wrist, twisting it painfully.

“You’ve ruined everything,” he growls, his face inches from mine. “You were supposed to protect her. Not take her virginity.”

“Because you thought that was your right? You wanted her cherry?” I snap, vulgar on purpose to shock him, driving my knee into his stomach. He stumbles back, and I take the opportunity to strike, slamming the butt of my gun into the side of his head. He grunts in pain but doesn’t go down.

Firing a shot in a room with Mother's oxygen tank could blow us all up. A tiny spark could do serious damage. The gun I worked so hard to get turns out to be useless.

Locking eyes with Makiah reveals pure hatred, his stare so full of lethal energy it forces my own to rise up. The guy is relentless. That blow should have stopped him. Adrenaline floods me. The only thing worse in an opponent than strength is determination.

Makiah's all in.

Behind me, I hear Paigelynn’s voice, sharp and determined. “Cam! Catch!”

I turn just in time to see her throw me a knife. I have no idea where she got it, but I’ll take it. I catch it mid-air, handle in my palm, spinning back to face Makiah.

He grins, a sick, twisted smile. "I should have killed you back in Gaia. You deserved to starve like your sister. You sad little -- "

He lunges at me, but I sidestep, driving the blade into his shoulder.

He cries out, collapsing to the ground, good hand gripping the wound, blood blooming across his shirt.

He lets out a weird sigh that turns into steady breath.

Unconscious, he's limp but breathing, blood turning the fabric of his shirt into a performance art piece.

“Enough!” Mother’s voice rings out, but it's a weak sound, not even loud enough to bring the guards, who will be here in seconds if Makiah makes the wrong sound.

“You’ve lost,” I say, my voice steady. “She’s mine.”

Her lips curl into a sneer. “You think you’ve won?” she asks, her voice rasping. “You’re nothing. A failure. A –”

I don’t let her finish. I move forward, ripping the oxygen mask from her face. She gasps, her frail body collapsing to the floor. For a moment, I just stand there, watching as she struggles to breathe.

Enjoying her pain. Her fear.

Her loss .

She lost. I won.

Even if I die now, I won.

“Cam!” Paigelynn’s voice pulls me back. “The alarms! The lockdown?—”

She’s right. The lights flicker, and a low mechanical hum fills the air as the compound’s lockdown system activates. Doors slam shut in the distance, sealing off our escape routes.

“Let’s go,” I say, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door, pocketing the knife and holding the gun. We slip past Makiah’s unconscious body, the alarms still blaring around us.

The hallways are chaos—guards shouting, water spraying, lights flickering. I lead Paigelynn through the maze, my mind racing as I try to remember the layout. Then I see it—a maintenance tunnel, hidden behind a set of rolling carts.

“In here,” I say, pulling her inside. The tunnel is dark and narrow, the air another obstacle, but it’s our best chance.

We move quickly, our footsteps echoing in the confined space. Paigelynn stays close, her hand gripping mine tightly. My chest aches, my body screaming for rest, but I push forward.

I can’t stop.

Not now.

Behind us, the sound of guards grows louder. They’re coming. But I don’t look back.

I can’t. I focus on the path ahead, on the faint glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

We’re almost there.