Page 154 of Unrequited
“I never?—”
A sound cuts him off. A sharp click. Then another.
Too late.
The windows explode inward.
Smoke. Screaming. Gunfire. A blur of black-clad bodies. I’m on the ground. Someone grabs my arm. Seamus screams my name, then everything goesblack.
I knowthe minute my eyes fly open that I’m not alone. I look over my shoulder and immediately recognize Seamus’s profile. His head lolls to the side. I quickly assess the situation. We’re in a room that looks like a cell, one window to the left, a single bulb overhead, and concrete beneath us. I shiver. It’s freezing in here.
My head throbs from a hit I must’ve taken, but I force myself to breathe slow, to remain present. My hands are tied behind me, with Seamus bound next to me. We’re here. Alive.
For now.
It can’t be my family because obviously they wouldn’t have taken me like this. Maybe him, but not both of us. He suspected an ambush from my family. Who is this, then?
We haven’t gone far. It’s still night out, still inky black. I inch my shoulder toward him. “Seamus?”
With a gasp, his head snaps up. He blinks. “Zoya?”
“I’m here. We’re tied up. Shh, I’m trying to figure out where we are and who took us.”
“Jesus,” he growls. “What the fuck?”
“I don’t— This can’t be my family,” I whisper. “They wouldn’t do this tome.”
“Nor mine.”
“It can’t be yours. You slaughtered every traitor already, didn’t you?”
“Save Branson, aye.” Out of the corner of my eye, I note his wrist is askew, at an odd angle.
“Oh my god, what happened to you?” I ask quietly, but I can’t turn to look at him.
“I tried to stop them from taking you. They broke my wrist.”
I wince. Goddamn, that must hurt.
“Who took us?”
Our question is answered when a heavy door scrapes open.
“You killed my brother for this little girl?” a voice sounds, loud and gravelly. “Isn’t that nice. You’ll both be punished then.”
Shit.Pavel’s brother. The Morozovs have come to collect. Payback.
My knees tremble, and I can feel Seamus’s tight body next to mine, coiled, ready to spring. If only he could.
Morozov’s gaze sweeps over me, a silent accusation. I see the brutal slouch of Seamus’s stance in my peripheral vision. Ready. Always ready.
“You put him up to it, didn’t you?” He paces in front of me, his eyes angry slits. “You were plotting. Our sources say you were there the night of the slaughter at the Wolf and Moon. You plotted with him, didn’t you?”
I shake my head, and he raises his hand to strike me. On instinct, I flinch, but I feel Seamus move as he presses himself between us.
“She didn’t know a fucking thing. Leave her out of this. Your battle is withme.”
I choke out a gasp as he strikes Seamus hard on the cheek.
