Defy Me (Shatter Me #5)(50)

“Yes?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” he says. He pulls a gun from the inside of his jacket and points it at me.

“I have to use the bathroom.”

Ibrahim doesn’t laugh. “You’re going to wait here until Max gets back. And then we decide what we’re going to do with you.”

I tilt my head at him. The gun he’s pointing at me looks suspiciously like one of the guns I stole from my father earlier.

Not that it matters.

I take a quick breath. “I’m afraid that’s not how this is going to work,” I say, attempting a smile. “Though I’m sure we’ll all be seeing each other soon, so I wouldn’t worry about missing me too much.”

And then, before anyone has a chance to protest, I run for the door, but not before Ibrahim fires his weapon.

Three times.

In close range.

I fight back the urge to cry out as one of the bullets shoots clean through my calf, even as the pain nearly takes my breath away.

Once I’m on the other side of the door, Nazeera pulls her invisibility over me. I don’t make it far before I take a sharp breath, slumping against the wall.

“Shit,” she says. “Did you get shot?”

“Obviously,” I bite out, trying to keep my breathing even.

“Dammit, Warner, what the hell is wrong with you? We have to get back to the plane in the next fifteen minutes, or they’re going to leave without us.”

“What? Why would—”

“Because I told them to. We have to get Ella out of here no matter what. I can’t have them waiting around for us and risk getting killed in the process.”

“Your sympathy is truly heartwarming. Thank you.”

She sighs. “Where did you get shot?”

“In my leg.”

“Can you walk?”

“I should be able to in just a minute.”

I hear her hesitate. “What does that mean?”

“If I manage to live long enough, maybe I’ll tell you.”

She’s unamused. “Can you really start running in just a minute?”

“Oh, now it’s running? A moment ago you were asking if I could walk.”

“Running would be better.”

I offer her a bitter laugh. It’s hard from this distance, but I’ve been drawing on my father’s new ability, harnessing it as best I can from where I am. I feel the wound healing, slowly regenerating nerves and veins and even a bit of bone, but it’s taking longer than I’d like.

“How long is the flight back?” I say. “I can’t remember.”

“We’ve got the jet, so it should only take about eight hours.”

I nod, even though she can’t see me. “I don’t think I can survive eight hours with an open wound.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t give a shit. I’m giving you two more minutes before I carry you out of here myself.”

I grunt in response, focusing all of my energy on drawing up the healing powers into my body. I’ve never tried to do something like this while wounded, and I didn’t realize how demanding it was, both emotionally and physically. I feel drained. My head is throbbing, my jaw aching from the intense pressure I’ve used to bite back the pain, and my leg feels like it’s on fire. There’s nothing pleasant about the healing process. I have to imagine that my father is on the move—probably searching for me with Ibrahim—because harnessing his power is harder than any of the others I’ve tried to take.

“We’re leaving in thirty seconds,” Nazeera says, a warning in her voice.

I grit my teeth.

“Fifteen.”

“Shit.”

“Did you just swear?” Nazeera says, stunned.

“I’m in an extraordinary amount of pain.”

“All right, that’s it, we’re out of time.”

And before I manage to get a word in, she picks me up, off the ground.

And we’re in the air.





Juliette Ella


Kenji and I have been staring at each other in nervous silence for the last minute. I spent the first ten minutes telling him a little about Emmaline, which was its own stressful distraction, and then Kenji helped me wash the blood off my hands and face with the few supplies we have on board. Now we’re both staring into the silence, our combined terror filling the plane.

It’s a nice plane, I think. I’m not sure. I haven’t actually had the presence of mind to look around. Or to ask him who, exactly, among us even knows how to fly a plane. But none of that will matter, of course, if Nazeera and Warner don’t get back here soon.

It won’t matter because I won’t be leaving without him.

And my thoughts must be easy to read, because suddenly Kenji frowns. “Listen,” he says, “I’m just as worried about them as you are. I don’t want to leave Nazeera behind and I sure as hell don’t want to imagine anything bad happening to her while she’s out there, but we have to get you out of here.”

“Kenji—”

“We don’t have a choice, J,” he says, cutting me off. “We have to get you out of here whether you like it or not. The Reestablishment is up to some shady shit, and you’re right in the center of it. We have to keep you safe. Right now, keeping you safe is my entire mission.”