Chapter 169 Buried Alive

Chapter 169 Buried Alive
Lily

Darkness pressed in from every side, not soft, comforting darkness, but the suffocating kind that squeezes out air and sound and thought, until you’re not sure if your eyes are open or closed at all.

Pain radiated from everywhere. My leg throbbed, but it was only the beginning. My ribs protested every shallow breath, my shoulder burned, and my head felt like someone had cracked it open and poured molten steel inside. It took everything I had just to stay conscious.

I tried opening my eyes. All I saw were blurred shapes swimming behind a haze of dust and shadows.

Voices drifted in and out, muffled and distorted, as if coming from far away or maybe from inside my own skull.

“…move…”

“…collapse…”

“…careful…”

I couldn’t place any of them. Couldn’t remember where I was. My sense of time and place slipped through my fingers like water.

I realized I wasn’t lying on the ground anymore. I was moving, but not under my own power. Strong arms braced me against a broad, unfamiliar chest, carrying me through the darkness.

Knox? For a heartbeat, I hoped. But the scent was wrong, no leather, no cedar, none of the warmth I’d buried my face in just hours ago. Instead, it was sharp cologne, smoke, the sour tang of gunpowder.

“…what…” I tried, my lips barely forming the word.

No answer. Or maybe there was, but everything sounded underwater.

I forced one eye open, vision swimming. The tunnel ceiling drifted by above me, cracked concrete, rusted pipes, flickers of dim light as the person carrying me strode forward.

Why am I being carried?

I tried to lift my head. Agony exploded in my skull, and the world spun. I fought for focus, for breath.

“…easy.” That voice, cold, smooth, cultured, slipped like oil into my ears.

Recognition crashed through me. Rourke.

No. No, no, no.

Desperation surged. I tried to push away, but my arms hung useless, like they belonged to someone else. Move. Please, move.

Pain lit up every nerve in my body. My cry slipped out, raw and involuntary. “Aah—”

The man carrying me tightened his grip. “She's awake,” Rourke said, his voice almost amused. “I was beginning to think the explosion knocked you out for good.”

I blinked, fighting through the haze. Two men with rifles walked ahead, another with a flashlight. Rourke moved beside them, hands tucked into his pockets as if we were taking a walk in the park and not fleeing through disaster.

He caught my gaze and smiled. “I was wondering when you’d wake up.”

I swallowed, throat raw and dry. “...Knox…” The name escaped. I couldn’t help it.

Rourke chuckled. “Always the hero.”

I ignored him. “Jinx…?” No answer. “Darius…?” Still nothing.

Panic built in my chest, sharp and cold. “Dad…” Silence.

No. Please, God, no.

I tried to sit up, but pain ripped through my side and forced me back down. The man nearly dropped me.

“Easy,” he muttered.

“I said she’s awake,” Rourke remarked. “That doesn’t mean she’s useful yet.”

Useful. The word made my stomach roll.

I shoved weakly at the arms holding me. “Put… me…” My breath hitched, pain blooming. “…down.”

The man looked to Rourke. “What do you want me to do?”

“Ignore her,” Rourke replied, coolly.

“Works for me.”

I gritted my teeth, fury burning beneath the pain. Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to claw, to kick, to bite. My body simply wouldn’t obey. The explosion had stripped me bare.

Rourke saw the frustration. “Oh, don’t look so disappointed,” he said, tilting his head. “You put up quite a fight.”

I struggled to catch my breath. “What… happened?”

“The tunnel collapsed.”

“I noticed,” I snapped, voice paper-thin.

He laughed. “You should thank Mr. Hayes.”

My brow furrowed. “What?”

“Knox,” he clarified, his smile widening. “None of this would’ve happened if he hadn’t insisted on playing the hero.”

My vision sharpened in anger. “What are you talking about?”

“He couldn’t let you go,” Rourke said, almost lightly. “He cornered me. Brought half the Reapers with him. He forced my hand.”

I glared at him. “Liar.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You planted those explosives.”

He nodded, unconcerned. “I did. But I wasn’t going to use them.”

My stomach twisted. “Until Knox trapped you.”

“Exactly.” Rourke met my gaze, eyes unblinking. “If he’d simply accepted my offer, none of your friends would’ve been caught in the collapse.”

Anger flared, burning hotter than pain. “No,” I said, voice shaking. “This is your fault.”

Rourke sighed, almost wistful. “It always amazes me... how heroes never understand consequences.”

I glared at him through blurred vision. “You trafficked women.”

He smiled thinly. “I built an empire.”

“You murdered people.”

“I removed obstacles.”

“You destroyed families.”

“I created opportunities.”

Despite everything, I laughed, a bitter sound that scraped my throat raw. “You really believe your own bullshit.”

The men ahead snorted. Rourke’s smile faded.

“You’ve got spirit,” he said.

“I’ve got standards.”

He stopped. His men halted with him. The one carrying me finally set me down, lowering me to the tunnel floor. My boots hit concrete and my injured leg buckled instantly. I dropped to one knee, gasping, pain splintering up my thigh, blood soaking through my jeans.

“Damn it…” I propped myself against the wall, breathing hard.

Rourke crouched, bringing his face level with mine. “You know…” he murmured, his tone softer, almost gentle. “That’s exactly why he wants you.”

My gut clenched. “…Who?”

Rourke’s smile stretched, cold and humorless. “The man willing to pay three times your bounty.”

He leaned in, so close I could smell the cologne and smoke on his breath.

“And trust me…” His eyes locked on mine, dark and flat. “…when you finally meet him, you’ll wish I’d killed you instead.”