Chapter 122 One Last Time
Chapter 122 One Last Time
\-Bianca-
There were some battles a person knew they had already lost. Mine had ended the day Lucien looked at me like a stranger. I’d known back then that he was over me.
But I didn’t stop. I mistook hope for persistence. I believed that if I stayed close enough, one day he would see me differently.
He never did.
And I finally realized it today when he bolted out with an injured scalp to reach Celeste.
As I parked along the deserted stretch of the dockyard road, I rested both hands on the steering wheel and let out a slow breath.
This wasn't about me anymore. It was about him.
I knew he’d gotten into trouble. I felt it.
The GPS on my phone showed the last location of my car, the one I’d made him drive this morning.
It was here.
I reached for my phone and called 911.
Then I got out of the car.
I carefully made my way through the rows of shipping containers and finally spotted my car parked there.
My pulse raced. Keeping low, I kept slipping between the containers until voices drifted toward me.
“... Yes, she agreed to it.”
That was Jackson’s voice.
I peeked around the corner just long enough to see him with his phone pressed against his ear, walking toward a waiting sedan.
Then I waited, because Jackson didn’t enter the sedan at once, he barked a few orders before he eventually left.
Only one guard remained by the boat. It was certain Celeste and Lucien were in there.
I searched the ground until I found a heavy rusted bolt.
With one quick throw, it splashed into the water several yards away.
“What the—”
The guard hurried toward the sound.
I didn't waste the opportunity, I sprinted across the dock, stepped onto the gangway and slipped inside the boat.
There was no one in sight, so I climbed down the narrow stairs. The lower deck was eerily quiet.
“Lucien? Celeste?” I whispered, but there was no answer.
But then I heard a faint knock. I followed the sound to a locked cabin, and through the opening on the door, I saw Celeste tied to the seat.
Relief instantly flooded her face when she saw me.
I looked around and found the keys hanging from a hook beside the door. My hands trembled as I managed to put it in the hole and unlocked it.
The moment the door opened, Celeste stared at me in shock and disbelief. Lucien was tied up across from her.
He was barely conscious, his lips had lost their color.
“Quick, untie me,” she said. My hands and legs worked before my mind could think. I quickly untied her, and together, we untied him.
He couldn't stand on his own.
“We have to move,” I whispered.
She nodded, then slipped one hand beneath one of his arms while I took the other.
Every step toward the stairs felt painfully slow, but when we finally reached the deck, fresh air hit our faces.
Freedom was only a few meters away.
Then—
“There!”
Jackson's voice cut through the dockyard.
My heart sank. I thought he had left.
Before we could react, at least three guards poured out from different areas.
“Run!” I shouted.
We hurried toward the gangway as fast as Lucien's condition allowed.
One guard lunged for them.
Celeste grabbed a long boat hook leaning against the railing and swung it with both hands. The man stumbled backward onto the dock with a cry.
We climbed onto the dock and tried to fight them off. I was certain the cops would swarm the dockyard any minute, and for one hopeful second, I thought we might actually make it.
Then Jackson reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a pistol.
I barely had time to register where he was aiming before I saw his eyes settle on Lucien. I moved without thinking.
The gunshot cracked across the air, and a sharp force slammed into my side. I looked down to find blood spreading across my blouse.
My legs gave out, but Lucien, in his weakness, caught me before I hit the ground.
“Bianca.” His voice shook as he lowered me carefully, his hands pressing against my wound. “Stay with me. Please.”
I tried to tell him I was okay, but the words wouldn't come. The pain was spreading through me fast, making it harder to keep my eyes open.
Then the sound of sirens reached us.
They grew louder as police vehicles came rushing through, their lights flashing across the water. The kidnappers finally broke apart, some running toward the water while others disappeared between the containers.
But Lucien didn't move.
He kept one hand against my wound and held the other around mine as the paramedics ran toward us.
“I've got you,” he whispered.
I wanted to tell him that I knew.
Instead, I squeezed his hand as hard as I could.
It wasn't much.
But he felt it.
His fingers tightened around mine just before the paramedics reached us, and the world around me began to blur, the shouting, the sirens, the flashing lights, even Lucien's voice fading into something distant.
I held on to his hand for as long as I could.
Then everything went dark.