Page 67 of Born Free

I’ve never seen so much conflict on a person’s face. Love. Loss. Betrayal. Disappointment. Panic. But slowly, it’s disdain that takes over.

And then he spits on Roman.

The action is so sudden, so unexpected, and so demoralizing, I startle back.

Orlando mutters something under his breath, something I don’t catch.

And then relief starts to loosen the choke hold around my throat when he turns and heads toward the door. As the sound grows closer and closer, he breaks into a jog in the hallway to the lobby. And he disappears into a blur the moment he steps outside.

I’m frozen for a moment in shock.

Everything went sideways. This was the worst possible way things could have gone.

Finally, after silence prevailing for a good twenty seconds, the first sob breaks past my lips.

My hands are shaking so hard it takes me a moment to open the cupboard. All of my joints feel stiff and numb. As I scramble along the mezzanine, my eyes fix on the two men on the floor, both of them lying there, dead.

“No,” I sob. “No, no, no.” I’m not clumsy anymore, it’s physically impossible now, but I nearly trip over myself as I scramble down the steps, feeling every passing second.

But the moment I reach the ground level, I freeze between the two of them.

They’re lying a good twenty feet apart.

Can I die for Roman a second time?

Can I die for two people at once?

Sometimes your intuition will tell you the truth. And you know that it does speak the truth.

IknowI can’t die for both of them at the same time.

My stomach turns, and another sob rips from my chest.

I look to Roman.

I look over at Sebastian.

I squeeze my eyes closed, the tears wrecking my face and oxygen in short supply as I break into a thousand pieces.

Choose Roman.

They weren’t random words spoken to ghosts. They weren’t nonsensical words said to Orlando.

Sebastian knew I was hiding somewhere in the building.

He knew I was watching and listening.

And he knew exactly how this was all going to happen.

Choose Roman.

Those words were instructions. A request.

They were freedom being granted.

“Damn you, Sebastian,” I say shakily. Another sob rips me apart.

I can do it. I can die for Roman. And then I can die for Sebastian.

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