Page 19 of Wrongfully Magicked
A glance reveals Soren’s big ass is sitting on my chest, squashing me to the floor.
I don’t hesitate to take out my aggression on him, the big beast of a man nearly indestructible. I twist, nailing him in the balls, then swing my elbow up into his face. The man grunts, barely twisting to the side in time to avoid a broken nose.
The fight escalates quickly, and we both do our best to pound each other into paste. The cot is destroyed in the battle, while the dresser is nothing more than kindling as it collapses under our combined weight. Though Soren has strength and size on his side, I’m fast, and my fury gives me the incentive to keep going.
Soren tries to keep me distracted, but my attention is glued to the girl, who is trying to keep out of the fight zone. The closer she gets to the door, the more my rage and anxiety increase.
With a roar, I charge at her, doing my best to leap over Soren to get to her before she can escape. She can’t leave. I’m just within reach when Cassius steps between us. He presses her against the wall and hunches over her, using himself as a shield.
Right before I would have slammed into Cassius, Soren snarls then grabs me around the waist. He barrels across the room at full speed and smashes me into the wall so hard that it caves and the cinder blocks behind it crack.
My head rings from the impact. Although my body obeys my commands, it’s like moving underwater as I slowly pull myself out of the hole in the wall. There is some yelling—Porter is in the middle of the room—and then I watch as Anita is tossed over Cassius’ shoulder and hauled away.
When her eyes connect with mine, I expect to find fear.
My heart crumbles when I see tears instead.
That’s when I know my Charlotte is gone.
I always suspected, but I refused to give up hope.
Now that’s gone too.
I collapse to the ground as if all my strength has been drained, my knees cracking against the cement, but I don’t feel it.
I don’t feel anything at all anymore.
ANITA
Idon’t fight Cassius as he hauls me out of the room. Instead, my eyes lock on Corsair, and I see the instant the truth hits him. It’s like the lights go out of his eyes, then he’s just gone.
My view is cut off as we head down into the main room, but I wilt in Cassius’ hold, not caring where he takes me. He curses when I go limp, his grip tightening around my hips like he’s afraid he might drop me. He carefully eases me down onto the couch until I’m sprawled across the cushions, then he yanks his hands away like my emotions are infectious.
Concerned, he drags his eyes over my body, as if searching for injuries. His gaze pauses on my neck, and his brows lower, his expression turning thunderous. Judging by the pain radiating from the area, I’m sure I have a pretty necklace of bruises around my throat. Even swallowing hurts. It’s not until he meets my gaze that he startles, then he just stares at me. “Uh, are-are you okay?”
His voice is hesitant, like he already knows the answer, but he can’t stop himself from asking. I laugh bitterly, and he winces at the caustic sound, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. “I don’t think I’m the one you should be asking.”
I turn away, quickly dashing away the tears that escape. Releasing a shuddering breath, I curl up on my side, rolling away from him. Not taking the hint, he gingerly sits on the edge of the couch, shuffling around a bit before he heaves out a sigh, then he lies down next to me and spoons me from behind.
Encased in his arms, I should feel trapped, but his tight hold actually eases the pressure in my chest. Something about his nearness is calming, and I draw in a shuddering breath.
Cassius is rigid behind me, and I feel him studying the side of my face, but when I do nothing but burrow farther into his hold, his tense frame relaxes slightly. I’d almost swear his lips brushagainst the back of my neck, but then I shake off that ridiculous thought.
If he knew what I’d done, what happened, then he wouldn’t have stopped his friend from killing me. Most likely, he would have helped dig my grave. I don’t say anything, though, needing his comfort for a few minutes just to hold myself together, afraid I might shatter into a million pieces if he lets go.
Besides, if anyone deserves to know the truth first, it’s Corsair.
Darby.
I bury my head into the couch and let the tears flow—the first ones I’ve allowed myself to shed for my friend. It’s only when voices intrude that I realize I fell asleep. I blink my eyes open, quickly scrubbing away the dried tears on my cheeks before I turn and face the room.
Three men stand across the room, doing nothing but watching me.
Hovering.
Waiting for me to wake up so they can interrogate me again.
I’m surprised I’m not in chains and waiting in some holding cell.
