"No!" I exclaim the second Carl whips out his gun, pressing it directly against Tris' forehead. He freezes, peering across at me with a confused scowl. "I want names," I insist, attempting to sit up and failing.

"Stop moving, Kayla," Jesse pleads, his hands bright red as they struggle to hold me down.

"I need names!" I tell Carl, my eyes wide and unrelenting.

"You ain't getting a single thing out of me," Tris mutters, smirking at the sight of me.

"Shut your fucking mouth," Carl snarls, slamming his fist into Tris' cheek before looking to me once more. "What names?"

"There's someone called Reece. He's the one who killed my husband. I want his surname, and I want him found," I say, grimacing slightly at the pain in my stomach. Jesse shh's me from behind. "And, he knows who hurt Riley."

Tris' eyes flash with something I can't decipher. Carl's expression hardens.

"I want to find whoever hurt Riley in Killmoor," I tell him.

Carl just nods, turning his attention back to the man beneath him before cocking his gun and shooting it into his thigh. Tris lets out an agonised scream.

I let my head fall back into Jesse's arms, my eyes flickering closed as I let the pain of Tris' attack break through my barriers, into reality. I'm hissing. I'm groaning. My face is contorting every which way. And all the while Jesse presses his hand against the wound, shouting around him to various people.

Every now and again, Tris' screams break through the room, relieving my pain — ever so slightly.

"Jesse!" That's Pippa's voice. "This is Dr Averlin," she says.

"Hello," a friendly voice adds.

"I know you," Jesse answers them. "You've been a doctor here for years."

"That's true," Dr Averlin responds. She sounds regretful. "But now you've freed me."

"You..." Jesse trails off. I feel his hands tighten on my wound and let out a small moan of pain. He doesn't know whether to trust this woman.

"Please," Dr Averlin's voice is closer now, and I can only assume that she's dropped down beside us. "Let me look at it."

"I..." Jesse trails off. It's five seconds before his hand leaves my wound. "If you hurt her, I swear that I will personally ensure you die before sunrise." His voice is gravelly.

"Got it," Dr Averlin replies softly, before suddenly there are light fingers pressing at my stomach. I clench my teeth together. "I need to cut some of the fabric out the way," she mutters. I hear the scissors, and then I feel cold air tickling my skin before she's prodding me all over again.

I hiss.

"It's going to be okay, Kayla," Jesse reassures me softly. My eyes flicker open as he runs his hand through my hair. His face is pale, his gaze fixed on my stomach.

"You need to have your head looked at," I tell him.

He smiles, lifting his eyes to mine. "I will," he promises.

Tris lets out another scream and I let my eyes close. As shit as the situation is, I'm relatively content to know that Carl is working his magic only a few feet away.

Dr Averlin mutters all sorts of words to Jesse and Pippa, asking for their help with various things as she works. The worst part is when she uses Pippa's help to pull the wound apart and check just inside. My scream rivals even that of Tris.

And then I'm biting down on Jesse's jacket sleeve as tears pour from my eyes and she stitches the wound back up. She doesn't have much pain relief on her, and she doesn't have enough time to let the small bit of local anaesthetic that they inject into me to get to work.

Near the end, the medicine starts kicking in and the jacket falls from my mouth, my breathing light and calm. It just feels like tugging down there and I open my eyes all over again to find Jesse grimacing above me as he watches her work.

And then she's done, telling me that I should be fine, but to find her tomorrow for some antibiotics as a precaution. She gives Jesse four paracetamols for me to take and he slips them inside his pocket before nodding.

Dr Averlin stands but I shake my head. "Wait!" I call out. She looks down at me, a kind looking middle aged woman with dark curly hair and friendly brown eyes. "Can you check him over?" I ask, looking up at Jesse.

He looks ready to argue but I give him a glare and he sighs, giving in and nodding at the doctor. Pippa helps me off of Jesse and I sit up, grimacing only slightly at the pain in my gut. 

"Here." Jesse hands me his jacket. I look down at the hole in my dress, a roughly cut 6 inch circle. The wound — now pulled closed — looks red and raw, but tears spring to my eyes at the sight.

Tris has stabbed me right through the rose tattoo that Riley gave me last month. Straight into the lines of the delicate flower, wrenching the artwork apart and ruining it. Water pools in my eyes.

"You'll be okay, Kayla." Pippa hooks her arm over my shoulder and gives me a gentle hug. I blink away the tears and shove my arms through the sleeves of the jacket before pulling it tightly around me and nodding at her with a small smile. She helps me stand.

Pete pulls over a chair for Jesse to sit on, and he slowly sits down, letting the doctor get to work. My eyes rake over the entire room and I'm relieved to see that the battle appears to be over. Roughly thirty people have neon green bandanas tied to the tops of their arms, all collected in the far corner of the room by some of our group who are now explaining everything there is to know about us. Lyla stands with them, blinking silently as she watches it unfold.

The group of unsurrendered Enforcers are gathered into a horde on the floor, numerous guns pointed towards them as they snarl at every single one of us.

Their — no longer judgemental — wives are snivelling in the other corner, all sobbing with one another as they're held at gunpoint.

A couple of people are still being wrestled to the ground, but overall, the room is calm.

Tris cries out all over again and my head snaps towards the sound, his situation having completely slipped my mind for mere moments. Carl is still sitting on top of the now shaking man, hunched over him, their heads close together.

Slowly, I step beside Carl and peer down. He pulls back at the sound of my heels, sitting up and looking up at me.

"You don't want to see this," Carl grumbles at me. I ignore him, trailing my eyes past the blade in his hands to the bloody mess beneath him. Tris is missing an eye. A gaping wound, the same shape as mine, scars his cheek. Blood spills from everywhere, but I don't flinch. 

Instead, I stare him right in the eye and smirk. His lip curls into a defeated grimace before he turns his head away.

"Has he told you?" I ask Carl. 

Carl leans back, wiping his red-stained hands down the lapels of his jacket before nodding. "He has."

"Pete!" I call across the room. The tall man instantly jogs over, nodding his head and flicking his gaze between the three of us. "Tell Pete the names," I tell Carl.

"Reece Harrington and Lewis Carmichael," Carl complies.

I suck in a breath at the names before nodding my head and looking at Pete. "I don't care what it takes. You bring those two people to us. Alive."

Pete looks slightly startled, but nods nonetheless before striding over towards the group of Enforcers in the corner. It's a determined walk, his broad shoulders puffed up as he attempts to look threatening. I can count on him. He likes doing these sorts of jobs.

"What are you going to do to them?" Carl asks, leaving the broken man on the floor as he stands. Blood splatters cover his forehead, his shirt, his neck. It's just a blessing that the suit is black.

I shrug. "Haven't decided," I pause. "Although I'll probably leave Lewis to Riley."

Carl cocks a brow. "Riley?"

I nod. "I'm sure he'll want payback."

"Fair enough." Carl smirks. Looking down at the ground, he kicks his foot against the leg of Tris. Tris lets out a pained groan, attempting to roll away, but failing. "And what do you want to do with him?"

I purse my lips and look down at the snivelling mess. Carl has certainly done a number on him. He looks as though he's in an insane amount of pain, every limb shaking as he tries to get away from us. He can't even crawl.

As sick as it is, a smile spreads across my face.

Bending over, I reach under my dress, hissing at the pain in my abdomen, before pulling my gun out and straightening back up. Stepping towards Tris, I lift one of my feet and press down on the side of his torso. He lets out a cry but I force him to roll backwards until he's staring up at me.

"I told you," I tell him. "You didn't kill me, Tris. You only killed yourself."

His mouth opens, ready to respond, but I lift the gun, aiming it at his dick before pressing down on the trigger. The gunshot echoes around me, and then he's screaming even louder, blood pouring over the top of his trousers onto the tiles below.

"Let him bleed out," I tell Carl before turning away, shoving the gun into the pocket of Jesse's jacket and stepping away.

I barely get two feet before the doors at the top of entrance stairs open, the three hulking Enforcers from the entranceway spilling inside with their guns raised. Shit.

"Get down," I scream out to the room before throwing myself behind a table beside me, sliding along the broken glass and plates. They graze my arms and I grimace as my gut throbs.

A barrel of gunfire fills the room and I curse out loud before wrenching the gun back out of the jacket. So much for being done. Fury fills my veins and I rise up on my knees, resting my hands on the table and firing towards them.

I duck down, reloading as others take their own shots. My heart is pounding, the adrenaline that was starting to subside roaring all over again.

Pete suddenly slides across the floor, stopping with a start beside me. "We have Reece Harrington captured."

I just blink at him.

Pete smirks. "He was one of the idiots over there who didn't surrender."

"That's great, Pete. But aren't we a little preoccupied right now?" I retort, gesturing above me to the fight beyond.

He grimaces before shaking his head. "No. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I found Lewis too."

I purse my lips. "Excellent. Can you get him when we're done with this?" 

Pete reaches out, grabbing my arm and forcing me to sit up and turn, peering over the table to the top of the stairs.

"Pete!" I hiss.

"There he is," Pete snaps, pointing one singular finger to the top of the staircase. All the blood drains from my face.

"Th-that's him?" I manage to utter out. Pete hums his confirmation.

It's the tallest one of the lot. The same one who started searching me for weapons back in the entrance way. His muscles are like those who indulge in steroids, his face painted with a hideous sneer as he aims his gun and fires around the room.

He's aiming for friend and foe alike, clearly willing to sacrifice the entire room in order to regain order. Even the ones beside him seem to be careful with where they're aiming. But not him.

He's a monster. A freaking machine. 

I can't even imagine seeing him in my nightmares... but yet, that's all Riley ever sees. This fucking hulk of a man was the one who held him down and ripped a knife through every single inch of the artwork on his torso.

He destroyed them. Destroyed Riley. Broke him apart the same way that Tris did me.

I'm not letting him win.

There's no way that I'm letting him get away from us. Nor am I giving up the win we just achieved.

"Give me your gun," I snap at Pete. 

He frowns at me before his eyes drop to the knife wound on my gut. "What?"

"Give it to me!" I'm nearly yelling. He nods, clearly startled by my attitude, quickly handing me the weapon in his waistband.

Cocking both weapons, I hold one in each hand before pushing away from the table and standing.

"Kayla, no!" 

"Kayla, get down!"

I ignore both Jesse and Carl's cries.

At the sound, Lewis averts his attention, turning his head before his gaze rests on me. A cocky smile spreads across his lips.

I lift both hands — a gun in each — and aim towards the top of the staircase.