Page 115 of Tragic Empire
He, who?
I don’t have time to ask before the bald man barks his next order.
“Take her.”
Three bodies emerge from the shadows, surrounding me in seconds.
My husband looks like he’s going to risk being shot to lunge for me, when the bald man shoves a needle into the side of his neck. In an instant, he releases whatever is in the syringe, and I scream.
“No, no, Cassio!” I cry, trying to claw, kick, and elbow my way out of being captured. Heavy hands clasp around my arms, squeezing hard enough to bruise. I hiss, managing to swing one of my knees into someone’s chin.
“Fucking bitch,” he spits, grabbing me again, harder.
“Armani! Colton!”
“Don’t bother calling for them—they got the same treatment as the dog,” a slimy voice says with a chuckle.
“Just drug her.” The bald man sighs like he’s bored. “Her whining is giving me a headache.”
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” I scream, still trying to thrash and fight. It’s no use. Four on one are horrible odds, especially as someone my size without a weapon.
“Good luck with that,” he says, condescension dripping from every word.
A prick in the side of my neck burns, and my arms go weak. I can’t keep my eyes open, and after a few heavy blinks, everything goes dark.
Soreness seeps into my very bones, a deep radiating ache that only adds to my fatigue. I can’t see a thing, and my eyes feel too irritated to open. Brain foggy and head pounding, I try to feel myself breathing, to focus on the rise and fall of my ribs. My tongue moves over my teeth, trying to swipe moisture around and cure my cottonmouth.
“Wake up, love.”
Groaning, I latch on to the distant voice, trying to follow it.
“There you go, Ana. Wake up for me.”
Flickers of memory spark behind my eyes, confusing me further in my disoriented state. I feel cold but not so scared anymore.
Did Cassio wake up and save us?
Are we somewhere safe now?
The feeling of my body becomes more obvious, and I’m able to wiggle my toes and move my fingers. I feel less like an unconscious zombie and more like a living human being.
My eyelids finally crack open, shocked by bright light overhead.
“So nice of you to join us, love.”
My stomach drops, ears registering the familiar voice.
I look up, seeing the man responsible for speaking come into focus.
It can’t be…
“H-how?” I croak. “I watched you die.”
Bron chuckles. “Did you enjoy the show?”
My heart feels like it’s in my throat as I stare at him. He’s an older version of Killian. Dark hair speckled with grays, stubble on his jaw, and a similar fit build despite his age.
“I asked you a question, love. Don’t forget your manners,” he chastises. “Did you enjoy the show?”
