The World Burns, Deserving or Not

Pain laced through Lily’s ribs as she struggled against the ropes binding her wrists to the chair. The storm outside had worsened, rain pelting against the wooden walls with relentless force. Every crack of lightning illuminated the shadows that lurked in the corners, making her feel as if unseen eyes were watching, waiting. But the only eyes she feared now were those of the men standing over her, their expressions a mixture of impatience and frustration.

She couldn’t tell if they were going to kill her or not. That uncertainty gnawed at her gut worse than the bruises forming beneath her torn clothes. Every word they spoke while believing her to be unconscious had shaken the foundation of everything she thought she knew. Marcus—her Marcus—had given her up. Maybe not willingly, maybe under duress, but that hardly mattered. She had spent years thinking he was the kind of man who would rather die than betray her. But here she was, bound and at the mercy of strangers who had come looking for something she didn’t even know existed.

A map. A location. An underground bunker. Marcus had never mentioned any such thing and she had no clue what they were talking about. How could he have kept something like this a secret from her? They were married for god's sake. He was her best friend, and she was his. They shared everything! Didn't they? And yet there seemed to be this massive secret between them. Possibly a secret worth killing for. Maybe a secret he thought was worth dying for. There was no way Lily could know.

The leader of the group, a man with burn scars down the left side of his face, crouched beside her. His breath smelled of cigarettes and rot. "Tell me where the damn map is, and this doesn’t have to get worse for you."

Lily turned her face away, refusing to look at him. The moment she did, a fist connected with her ribs, forcing a strangled gasp from her lips.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," she spat, pain lacing every word. She'd be strong. She had to be. She'd been strong all her life. If her own father couldn't get the best of her, who did these guys think they were? There was no way they'd win in a battle of will. Or wit.

Another blow sent stars exploding behind her eyes. The storm raged on, thunder rolling in time with the agony pulsing through her body. A part of her was starting to wonder if Hep had abandoned her. He’d gotten out so easily—too easily. Had he led them here? Had she been a fool to believe that anyone in this world did anything out of kindness anymore?

She gritted her teeth, trying not to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. The sound of their voices blurred as she faded in and out, the storm outside becoming a steady hum in the background of her suffering.

Then, all at once, the world ruptured.

An explosion thundered through the night, shaking the floor beneath her. Dust rained from the ceiling, and the old house groaned as if it were taking its last breath. The men stumbled back, cursing and scrambling to their feet. Another deafening boom followed. Someone shouted, "It’s the truck! The truck’s gone!"

Lily barely had time to register what was happening before the force of the blast knocked her backward, her chair crashing onto the floor. Unlike before, she didn’t lose consciousness. Her heart pounded as she realized that the impact had cracked the frame of the chair enough for her to wrench her hands free.

Chaos reigned. The men were yelling, tripping over each other in their rush to get outside. She used the distraction to crawl toward the nearest wall, keeping her body low. Smoke and dust filled the air, making it hard to see. Her fingers dug into the floorboards, her nails splitting as she pulled herself forward.

She had just reached the window, her trembling fingers gripping the frame, when a rough hand closed around her ankle.

"You little—" The man yanked her backward, his rough, caloused grip like a vise. Lily kicked wildly, her boot connecting with his jaw, but it wasn’t enough to break free. He dragged her toward him, his fury radiating off of him in waves. Lightning illuminated his wicked face, his menacing scowl glaring down at her in a murderous rage.

Then, out of nowhere, a metallic shriek echoed through the room. The floor splintered beneath them, and with a sickening sound, a rusted metal pipe shot up through the wooden planks—straight into the back of the man’s calf muscle.

His scream was guttural, raw. He released her instantly, collapsing onto his side, writhing in agony.

Lily didn’t wait to see what happened next. She pushed herself up and lunged for the window.

She threw herself through the opening, her body twisting in the air as she braced for the impact of the ground below. She hit hard, rolling through mud and broken glass. Rain soaked her in an instant, cold and unforgiving.

A murder of crows erupted from the trees above, their wings slicing through the stormy sky like shadows given form.

Gasping, she turned her head—and saw him.

Hep was beneath the house, his face streaked with dirt, his fingers gripping the jagged metal pipe he had used to wound her attacker. He met her gaze, his expression unreadable, then jerked his chin toward a small shed a few yards away.

Lily hesitated.

Had he done this? Had he planted the explosives? Had he actually come back for her?

Another burst of gunfire ripped through the air, and she didn’t waste another second. She ran, feet pounding against the wet earth as she bolted toward the shed. Hep disappeared back into the shadows beneath the house, leaving her with more questions than answers.

The storm raged on, but for the first time in hours, she had something she hadn't dared to hope for.

A chance.

Part 6 of a series