Rory had charged into their hideout alone, cutting through commotion and blood with the fury of someone who had already lost everything. She was beaten and battered with three broken ribs and a comminuted fracture in her right leg.
But despite it all, she carried me out of that abandoned warehouse like it was nothing, her strength nearly inhuman.
She had made me keep my eyes closed the whole time, afraid I'd panic, whispering reassurances into my ear as she carried me.
"Cyrus, don't be afraid. I'll bring you home safely. As long as I'm here, nothing will happen to you."
Now, those same words, once reserved only for me, were being whispered to another man.
"Jesse, don't be afraid. I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you. I'll get you home safe."
Rory's team arrived quickly, but they didn't have time to deal with me.
They rushed straight to Jesse, whisking him off to the hospital for treatment.
I stayed put in the car, eyes cold, watching them leave.
Then, my phone buzzed.
A message lit up the screen:
[Sir, are you really letting them off just like that?]
I replied without hesitation:
[Of course not. Did you prepare what I asked for?]
He replied quickly:
[Yes, it's ready.]