Gage loosens his clutch on my neck, stepping aside in a credulous act of trust. No one should trust me in this state. I pull my pistol from the harness, raising it before any of them can blink, my seething gaze scanning Gage and Ty. And Liam. His face is cracked and bruised and bloody from my punches. Swollen and guilty. His arm is stationed stiffly at his side, wounds from his chest surgery still healing. But all I see is her. Her hollow eyes and pleading cries. The gauntlet of torture inflicted. Her withering spirit spiraling and distorting until it emerged as a destructive disconnect. Bile
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