➵ Chapter 54-8

I tried to cling to that, grasp at the idea of a future after this. That I could still graduate and see Eric be a father and be happy with the boy who held my hand. "Where will we go?" "I quite like the pizza here. You know what they say about New York pizzas." I laughed, a little weakly than I may have at another time. "Okay. Pizza." "I'll pay." "You're trying to stall me," I whispered. "Yes," he admitted, his voice breaking. "I am. But I know I can't keep you here." Holding onto me, he brushed my hair back, slipping my comms into my ear. I stepped away. "I'll see you in a bit, English." "Be careful, Robin Hood." Unbothered by the fact that the other might hear, I pulled him back for a kiss before yanking the door open to go inside. The stairwell reeked of mold and urine as I made my way up, my heart throbbing so violently in my throat that I felt it might jump out. I kept moving, assuring myself it would pass, only stopping at the door for the second floor. I pushed it open, stepping into a hall consisting of cheap, stained carpet and faded wallpaper until I came to the door that said 53. Closing my eyes, I put my hand on the doorknob. It rattled as I shook. Steeling my nerves, I turned it, stepping inside. No wonder he wanted this to end here. The place shook me. Ravaged me. I had never come back here after that night. Looking down at my feet, I realized I was standing where my mother had bled out. Where I watched the light go out from her eyes. Where three grown men decided to torment a little girl. I tried to stop shaking, and forced myself to continue inside. The place still had the furniture from when I'd lived here. The same sofa, the same bookshelf. The same little dining table beside the kitchen. The surface was glass and I remembered being yelled at whenever I left fingerprints all over it. How my mother regretted buying that table. My father used to find the sight of my greasy little fingerprints amusing. Said that it gave it character. The landlord must have kept the furniture so he could rent the place out for more. I wished he'd tossed it all. "The drone is right outside the window behind you. Can you open it?" The sound of Eric's voice sent my heart thudding all over again, but I did as he asked, wondering if I appeared as perturbed as I felt. "They know we're here. His guys are headed for us and Polk is coming to you." He rapped his fist against the door. I turned around as it opened. "I never understood the purpose of knocking if one intends to come in regardless of permission." Darren Polk was a rather unusual looking man, large, built of hulking muscles and incredibly narrow facial features that made me think Elaine. "Formality," he said. "Your friends are outside. Fighting for their lives." "You could always let them leave." "You shouldn't have brought them then." "None of this would be happening if you didn't put a hit out on me." "But I did." "Perfect," Eric said. "And now you and your friends are all going to die. Had you remained compliant-" "You killed my family. I won't let you kill this one too." "This is your family? God, Lia, you go through families the way people do clothes. Your parents, the Coopers. These silly little kids playing at being-" "I won't let you hurt them." "Let me? You won't let me?" When he stepped toward me, I pulled my knife. That didn't stop him - he kept coming, trying to grab my wrists. I sliced the blade across his chest before his fist smacked hard against my ribs. Pain shot through every nerve in my body and I gasped. He grabbed the front of my shirt, slamming me back against the wall again and again before I managed to stick my knife through his wrist. Polk let go of me with a yelp and I hit the ground, trying to catch my breath. Clenching his teeth, he grabbed the knife and pulled it out, throwing it out the open window. "Anybody who relies on a weapon for protection is as good as dead." I managed to stand, edging away from the window to avoid being shoved out. "Who says I rely on a weapon? I just don't like using my bare hands. It's terrible for manicures." When he swung, I ducked, my chin floating around the blow before I bounced back up. Grabbing his arm, I twisted is far back as I could and shoved him back against the wall before striking. Anger took control - rage behind every punch, one going tirelessly after the other. The time between punches was too short for him to recover and hit back. The second I slowed, a blow connected to my jaw, powerful enough so send me flying. Before I could rise, he grabbed me by the throat and squeezed hard. "You should have waited to come after me until you had regained your strength. Maybe then, you would have had at least a fraction of a chance." I thrashed, kicking one leg out from under him. As he toppled, I broke free, my boot smashing down onto his face. His arms locked around my legs, pulling me down and rolling on top of me. Wriggling my arms out from beneath him, I jammed my elbow into his face again and again as he shifted around. Something pressed against my hip. I heard it before I felt it - like a clap of thunder though there wasn't any lightning outside. No rain. There was a sudden feeling of red-hot iron ripping through flesh and bone. All I could do was gasp, pain rendering me useless. "Lia!" Eric's voice screamed. Polk stood up, wiping the blood off his gun as he stared down at the wound. "Close range. Already bleeding like hell. Maybe you'll die before your friends. Maybe you'll hang on long enough to hear their cries as they fall. One by one." "I'm coming Lia," Jace said. "Hang on!" "No!" I croaked. "Stay away!" "Earpiece," Polk murmured, yanking me up by my shirt and tearing it out before he let me fall again. "Hello, hello!" He crossed his arms and listened, amused. "Oh, my. He says he'll kill me." His heel dug into my wound and I screamed. "You do realize she can't hear your assurances, don't you?" "You're not making it out of here alive," I whispered. "You're as dead as I am." "The great Astraea. The brilliant Liana Mason. Such high expectations." His gun went off again, and this time, the pain was in my stomach. Every nerve in my body was screaming. My mouth was filled with blood. I coughed and it spewed out as the man dragged me by the arm into my old bedroom, flinging me face-first onto the ground. Still coughing, I didn't try to rise. Polk nudged me with his shoe, flipping me onto my back so he could look down at me. "How long do you think you have? Minutes?" He stomped his foot on the wound, making me cry out. "Stupid girl."