Page 158 of Sin Like the Devil

The taser connects with Noah’s midsection first. He jerks midair, his knees crumpling as he lands on the muddy lawn with a grunt.

Elon spins to yell at his subordinate. “Stand down! We have reporters here.”

I recognise the asshole he’s admonishing. It’s Kieran, the same one who hit me and groped Taylor without a care in the world.

The red-faced brute completely disregards Elon’s order. Kieran hits Noah with the taser again, this time directly in the chest. I watch in horror as his limbs convulse and spit trickles from the corners of his mouth. Teeth bared, Kieran targets him for several painstaking seconds.

Hands clutching his chest, Noah struggles to stand back up before falling backwards onto the ground again. He’s bug-eyed and breathless. That’s when a vague memory of him mentioning his weak heart slams into me.

“Noah!” I screech.

Elon reprimands Kieran as onlooking patients begin to scream. Eventually, two other guards have to drag Kieran backwards, the taser torn from his hands. In all the commotion, it falls to the ground.

“What are you thinking?” Elon clamours.

“Insubordination, sir!” Kieran splutters, shoving off his co-workers.

Still cowering on the ground, I watch Elon fling his arms around, gesturing wildly in anger. I’ve never seen him so enraged before.

“He was down!”

“Patient was out of control,” Kieran insists.

“You damn knucklehead. We’re being filmed!”

Between their arguing and the patients crowded around in every direction, no one is paying attention to Noah. He’s clawing at his chest like an elephant is sitting on it, a hiss coming from his throat.

“Hey!” I fume at the bickering guards. “Help him!”

When I try to move closer, Elon reacts. I’m shoved down and pinned with a foot in the centre of my back. My lungs heave, compressed against the wet ground by his bodyweight.

Any sounds I was able to make dry up. Lennox is slumped over while Elon shouts at his men, gesturing around at the chaos. Still, no one pays any attention to Noah. His grip on his chest slackens, and he eventually goes limp.

“You think a good time to get that out is in front of a film crew?” Elon rages on. “You’re supposed to be discreet!”

When Kieran spots Noah’s limp form, the red flush on his face pales. “Uh, sir?”

“I don’t want to hear another word from you!”

“Sir, the patient…”

All eyes finally turn to Noah. Through the sheen of tears bubbling in my eyes, I can see he’s now still and lifeless. Elon growls a curse, his foot lifting from my back. He quickly kneels down beside Noah to check his pulse.

“Dammit,” he mutters. “Radio the medical wing for support.”

I drag myself upright as Elon begins to deliver chest compressions. The other guards are trying to herd patients away from the show, but there’s resistance. Everyone wants to see the drama.

Determination fuelling my sore body, I claw my way through gelatinous mud. Noah isn’t breathing, curled up at an awkward angle on his side, head twisted and legs splayed. Horror is pouring into me in a relentless wave.

“Come on,” I plead.

The panic around us is intensifying. All noise fades into the background as I wait for Noah to take a breath. Elon’s grunting with each deep compression, his subordinates anxiously watching.

“Get them out of here,” he barks over his shoulder.

All eyes turn to us.

“No!” I protest.

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