Page 122 of Requiem
“Ineed you alive,” he continues. He looks exhausted, blood loss paling his skin beneath the warm cabin lights, but his eyes stay locked on mine. “Emma didn’t drag you out of hell just to watch you walk yourself back into it.”
Chapter thirty-three
EMMA EASTON
My shoulders are killing me from the position Alexei forced us into before he left us again. Our wrists are restrained high enough that every movement hurts. I’m so tired that I’ve sagged against them, my feet aching from standing on this hard concrete for hours.
Heather is to my left, the restraints keeping her pinned against the wall. She’s pale, but holding herself together remarkably well. Every now and then, her breathing catches sharply before she consciously slows it again, grounding herself the same way she probably grounds frightened patients in hospital rooms.
Adela, meanwhile, still looks ready to gut someone. “I swear togod,”she mutters for what feels like the tenth time in the last hour, “I didnotsurvive being held captive once already just to end up chained in anotherfuckingbasement.”
Despite everything, a small breath escapes me. My head is still spinning from whatever they injected into us earlier. The room feels weird…like notexactlyclear, if that makes sense. It’s almost like I’m drunk and can’t focus on anything, even if I keep trying to.
Concrete floor. Cold air.
Heather breathing beside me.
Adela cursing under her breath in Russian.
Stay present. Stayhere.
My gaze shifts again toward Adriana. She hasn’t spoken since Erik returned her three hours ago. She’s against the wall on the left side of the room, beneath the weak fluorescent light. Bite marks disappear beneath the collar of her shirt. There are scratches on her shoulders. Her split lip has started bleeding again, a thin streak trailing toward her chin that she hasn’t even noticed.
I swallow hard before speaking carefully. “Adriana.”
No response. Her eyes remain fixed somewhere across the room, unfocused and distant enough that my chest tightens.
“Adriana,” I repeat, firmer this time.
Finally, her gaze flicks toward me, reflecting something to me that breaks my heart. I can hate the woman and still feel rage for what happened to her.
“You with us?” I ask quietly.
One corner of her mouth twitches faintly. “Unfortunately.”
Adela exhales sharply through her nose, yanking on the chains even though she knows it won’t do anything.
But Adriana barely reacts.
I study her for another second before speaking again. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
“No.”
Heather shifts beside me, concern flashing across her face. “You don’t have to pretend you’re okay.”
“I’m not fucking pretending anything.” Her voice stays detached and emotionless. She finally lowers her head, dark strands of hair falling across her face as she laughs bitterly under her breath. “This is probably where I was always going to end up anyway.”
“No,” I say immediately.
Her eyes lift slowly toward mine. “Emma, fuck off. I fucked up your entire life. Don’t be nice to me.”
“No,” I repeat. “You do not deservethis.”I pause, analyzing my feelings toward the woman.
She looks away again. Then says quietly, “You know the difference between you and me? You still think people can come back from things,” she says softly. “I stopped believing that a long time ago.”
My throat constricts painfully, because I suppose I understand why she believes it. Maybe part of me even understands the temptation to agree. But then I think about Jude, and the way he’s fighting every second against what Alexei did to him, and the fact that healing doesn’t erase damage. It just means that the damage doesn’t win.
“You’re wrong,” I tell her gently.
