Nothing Without You | Eric Coulter [2]

twenty

    "Here," Zeke hands me some papers- paperwork for Eric's release that he'd forged along with a gun, "Just in case."

I slip the papers into my back pocket and make sure the gun's safety was on before tucking it into my waistband.

"You'll be okay?" Zeke asks, worry wrinkling at his brows.

I smile at Zeke reassuringly and nodded, "I've got this."

"We'll be close if you need anything, okay?" He tells me, clapping me on the back. "Go get him back, Ness."

I smiled at him gratefully, taking a deep breath as I made my way down to the holding cells, praying that this would work.

The plan that we had so precariously put together was risky; one wrong move and we could potentially be sabotaging Eric's fate.

As it stands, there was a high chance that Eric's execution would be seen through by my mother, but there's still that slim possibility that he would be expunged.

If we mess up now, Eric's death would basically be sealed and the rest of us would probably be put on trial too.

I huffed out a heavy breath as I emerged through the hallway. The air felt as if it was thicker here like the metal gates bled misery into those it held captive.

Thankfully, I don't recognise the guard, which I hoped was a sign that he doesn't know who I was either. With the way his eyes took me in without a hint of recognition in them, I'd say we were fine...at least, I hoped.

Forcing my features to remain passive, I stop in front of the burly guard that stood at the entrance with hair spiked with gel and his arms crossed over his chest.

The man doesn't budge, staring down at me with beady eyes and I match his stand, mustering as much authority into my voice when I speak. "I'm here for one of your prisoners, Eric Coulter."

"What for?" He snaps out in response.

I match his stance from his pushed-back shoulders to the way his arms were folded and meet his gaze with a scoff, "What do you mean what for? Haven't you been informed?"

Instead of an answer, the man simply raises his brow at me and I groaned, "God, can anyone around here do their fucking job right?" Pulling the papers Zeke had equipped me with from my back pocket, I shove them into the guard's chest. "There. He's scheduled for transport. With these damn rogue running around, we can't be sure none of them are going to pull any stunts."

The man scans through the words on the document before looking up at me suspiciously.

Then, without sparing me any response, he reaches back for his radio and my heart falls.

Before coming here, I was prepared for the possibility of there being an altercation, but I was really hoping that it wouldn't come to that.

Not being able to risk it, I reach back for the gun that I had tucked away. However, the guard chooses that very moment to turn his attention back on me.

He narrows his eyes at the movement and immediately tackles me, sending both of us tumbling to the ground.

I fight hard to maintain my composure under his crushing weight, and then remembering what Eric had taught me, I buck and roll, throwing the guard off of me.

The man, swings at me, his fist connecting with my jaw, the contact sending a sharp pain through me and I immediately taste blood on my lips.

My fingers search the ground blindly, and I must've been in luck, because the next thing I know, I grasp onto the cool, smooth, material of what felt like a baton that must've fallen from the guard's weapon belt during our scuffle.