Chapter 171 Please

Chapter 171 Please
Lily

“No…”

The word slipped out, a rasp that barely sounded human. It lingered in the smoky air, lost among the debris and the distant crackle of fire.

Lucian wavered where he stood, swaying like a tree battered by a storm. For one impossible heartbeat, I let myself believe he would turn, would steady himself, swing his shotgun, smirk and call Rourke an asshole. That this was just another of his near-misses, another story for later.

But then his knees buckled. The shotgun tumbled from his grasp, clattering to the gravel with a hollow, final clang.

He pitched forward.

“Lucian!” My voice shattered, raw and unrecognizable, echoing in the emptiness.

I tried to stand, but my leg folded beneath me, white-hot pain detonating in my thigh. I crumpled back onto the gravel, the world spinning.

“No…” Tears blurred my vision, streaking down my cheeks, warm against the grit and dust. “No… no… no…”

I clawed at the earth, dragging myself forward, pain screaming through every nerve, my ribs, my shoulder, my lungs. I didn’t care. Five feet. Five feet was all that separated us. Five feet might as well have been miles.

“Lucian…”

He didn’t move. The blood beneath him kept spreading, dark and glistening in the harsh light. Too much. Far too much.

I coughed, throat torn raw from where that bastard’s arm had crushed it. “This…” Another cough, wet and violent. “…this isn’t funny…”

No answer. I pulled myself another foot, rocks biting into my palms until blood welled up beneath my nails. My jeans snagged on broken concrete, but I kept going, pulling, crawling, gasping.

“Lucian…”

Nothing. No twitch. No sound. Just the slow, relentless flow of blood.

“This isn’t how it goes,” I whispered, tears dripping onto the gravel. “You… you answer me…”

My voice was little more than a croak. Hoarse. Broken. Pathetic. I hated how helpless I sounded. I hated feeling this small.

At last, I reached him. My hands found his shoulder, still warm, impossibly warm, as if maybe...

“Lucian…”

With shaking hands, I rolled him gently onto his back. His eyes were half-open, unfocused, fixed on something far beyond me. Blood stained the front of his cut where it had soaked through from the wound in his back.

“No…” My hands pressed against his chest, then his side, then wherever I thought I might stem the flow. The blood just kept coming.

“No…” My tears fell freely now. “I don’t…” My breath hitched. “I don’t know what to do…”

His head lolled toward me, lips parted.

“Please…” I touched his cheek, desperate for any sign of life. “You yelled at me…” A broken laugh escaped between sobs. “…for breaking rules. So you… you have to wake up,” I whispered, my voice splintering.

Nothing. No movement. No answer.

“I swear I’ll listen. I won’t argue. I’ll… I’ll even let Knox lecture me…”

Still nothing.

Then the realization hit with the force of another explosion.

He wasn’t answering. Because he couldn’t.

“No…” My hands trembled. “No…”

Behind me, laughter rose... low, mocking, satisfied.

Rourke.

“You see?” His voice drifted across the yard, smug and lazy. “I told you.”

I didn’t look at him.

“You heroes… always lose someone,” he said, amusement curling his words.

“Shut…” I tried to shout, but it came out as a rasp. “…up…”

“You couldn’t save Caleb. You couldn’t save the girls before they died. And now…” He spread his arms wide. “…you couldn’t save your President.”

Rage and grief collided inside me. I tried to scream, but it was a strangled, broken sound that left my throat burning.

I buried my face against Lucian’s shoulder, tears soaking into the leather of his cut. “I’m sorry…” The words fell from me in a litany of grief. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

This was my fault. If I hadn’t gone into the tunnels, if I hadn’t gotten caught, if I hadn’t let them take me, Lucian would still be here. He would still be alive.

“Please…” I sobbed, voice barely audible.

And then the truth hit me... I couldn’t do this alone. Not again.

My head snapped up. “Knox!” Nothing. My voice cracked. “Knox!” Louder, desperate. Still nothing.

“Jinx!” Only the distant crackle of fire replied. “Darius!” Silence. “Dad!” My voice gave out, and I coughed so hard I tasted blood.

“Somebody…” Another sob wracked my body. “…please…”

I looked around wildly, searching for anyone, anyone at all, who could help. Please. Help him. Help us.

Rourke laughed again, cruel and cold. “You really think someone’s coming?”

I ignored him, wrapping both arms around Lucian, cradling his head to my chest. The tears wouldn’t stop, soaking into the bloodstained leather.

“I can’t…” My breathing hitched, uneven. “I can’t lose another one…”

Then a change in the air... a shift in the wind. Boots. Dozens of them.

Rourke heard it, too. His smile faltered.

I lifted my head. Through the smoke, shapes emerged... one, then three, then ten. Knox was first, running so hard he looked like he might break himself. Victor followed, arm in a sling. Silas, Jinx, Darius, more Reapers, Nomads. The yard filled with leather cuts and silent fury.

They stopped as one when they saw us. Me, covered in blood, holding Lucian. Rourke, standing only yards away.

No one spoke. No one moved. The silence was heavy enough to crush.

Knox’s eyes locked on Lucian. Then on me. His face shattered.

Through my tears, I met his gaze. My voice was barely a whisper, rough as broken glass. “Knox…”

He stepped forward.

I shook my head. “No…” Another sob escaped, raw and hopeless.

Then I screamed the only words that mattered, pouring all my grief and rage into a single command.

“Kill him.” My finger trembled as I pointed at Rourke. “Kill him…” My body shook with another sob. “For what he did…”

I looked down at Lucian, clutching him tighter, letting my tears fall onto his bloodstained cut.

“Please…”

Then I looked back at Knox, all my pain and fury focused on him, voice shaking with the last words I could manage.

“Kill. Him.”