Chapter 22 I'm Proud Of You (Emma POV)

This chapter is updated by Novels.pl

*Emma Pov*

Now, that wasnt very nice, Carbon.

The gun in his right hand becomes blurry, and then a blurry replica appears in his left hand. Both guns become clearer, and they look identical. Carbon raises his left hand, unloading the magazine into me. Each shot hits me right in the chest, shredding my clothes and skin. Getting hit in the boob is unpleasant; getting shot in the boob fucking blows. Sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, FUCK! Hollywood really doesn't do a good job of portraying how painful it is; each subsequent bullet is another dagger plunging into me. I choke on a glob of blood and saliva, sending me into a coughing fit as I try to hack it up.

I drop to my knees, wheezing as the holes in my lungs repair themselves. Every breath makes a whistling noise come from the wounds he shot through me. The tingling sensation of my nerves reattaching sends a shiver up my spine. A few of the bullets are stuck inside me, and some of them even shattered when they hit my bones. My body starts to push out chunks of flesh, blood, bullets, and bone fragments like a Play-Doh toy. It's a surprisingly pleasurable feeling, like popping a large pimple thats been bothering you for days. I let out an involuntary moan as the last bullet comes out of me, clanging against the floor and rolling away. My turn.

Moving with the grace and speed of a lion, I lunge for him, chopping my hand at his upper leg. Keeping my nails sharp, shaped, and shiny isn't just to serve; they're much stronger than another person's, and I can use them like claws. My swipe hits, slashing through his pants and drawing a thin red line across his thigh. Blood droplets start to form and drip from the cut. Gotcha. He smashes his pistol into the top of my head twice, making me bite through my lip accidentally. He pistol whips me in the face, and I dodge out of the way as he throws it at me. A new pistol forms in his hand, and he starts shooting. I dive toward the kitchen area, sliding under the table and kicking straight through the base. The round table falls behind me, and I brace against it as he continues to shoot at it. The old piece of furniture is surprisingly sturdy, holding up to his barrage of bullets for a minute or two before blasting holes in it. One of the shots hits me in my shoulder, and the makeshift shield almost slips out of my grip. Carbon continues to fire, with several bullets almost hitting my head. I don't think that a bullet to the brain would be enough to kill me, but I'd rather not test that theory. Splinters continue to rain down on me, and a cloud of dust starts to fill the area. I hear the click of the empty magazine and get ready to make my move.

Keep hiding, rat, it won't matter. I have an endless amount of bullets, and you're out of your league and in over your head, girlie, Carbon called out.

The kitchen counter across from me has a half-empty knife holder that gives me an idea. I could grab a knife and use it as a projectile. I can't reach it from here without exposing my arm to Carbon. It's worth the risk. Tentatively, I stretch my arm past the table's boundary, and immediately, he starts firing again. He manages to hit my hand, shooting my index finger off. The pain is indescribable; I nearly bite my tongue off. Crouching down, I try to make myself as small a target as possible behind the much larger table. Shot after shot rings out without an end in sight. It's like I'm against an entire platoon of soldiers rifles and not a single dude with a pistol. The ringing in my ears makes my jaw ache, and I keep healing the damage just for him to reinflict it. A chunk of the table falls back onto me, hitting my head. He's shot so many holes into it that it's starting to fall apart. I need to do something, or Im going to find out if I can survive a headshot against my will.

Im stronger, faster, and can heal from any injury; all he can do is make sh*tty little copies of stuff. So why? I should be the one making him hide from me instead of acting so cowardly. He should be afraid of me. So why? I could kill him with one arm: stab him in the chest, snap his neck, or crush his throat. So why am I so scared? Why am I fucking terrified? Whats wrong with me? I didnt grow up around guns, and I wasnt ready for how loud they are. How fast the gun fires, how much it hurts, what bullets do to a human body, I wasnt ready for any of it. None of that is the real reason Im afraid, though. I dont want to die. Eryks face flashes through my mind. If you want to stick around, youre going to need to provide value to me.

Hes made it clear that my position as his girlfriend is one that he allows, not one that he needs. If I run now, come back with no Neuvohumans, nothing to give him, will he kill me? I know our relationship started out as a ruse, then part of a bet, but what is actually stopping him from killing me like his last girlfriend? Not my powers, he gave them to me and was very clear about having a contingency plan if I tried using them against him. If I ran, hed just send his people after me. I dont think I could avoid them forever. The truth is that the only thing thats keeping me from an early grave and being alone is his favor. Ive jammed myself between a rock and a hard place, and theres no room to maneuver. Either I succeed and prove myself to Eryk, or I die.

I let out a laugh thats drowned out by the gunfire. I dont want to die, I dont want to be cast aside and alone. Theres only one path forward. Carbon isnt scary; his gun is. So all I need to do is remove that. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. The piece of the table that broke off is a jagged, rhombus-shaped chunk of wood the size of my forearm. He doesnt need Carbon in one piece, just alive. A bullet blows through the table, missing my skull by mere inches. My ear is hot from being grazed by it. Im running out of time, running out of table, but Ill never be out of options. The second I pick up the sound of the empty click, I move. I spring up from behind my barricade, the new gun already forming in his hand, and I whip my projectile as hard as I can at him. I aim at his wrist, trying to hit the weapon out of his grasp, but I miss.

The giant would-be wood chip is lodged into his right shoulder. Leaping over the table, I dash across the room to him. He falls to his knees, sputtering nonsense as the wood starts to change color, absorbing his blood. The good news is he dropped both guns to the floor, but there are a bunch of them all around him that I have to kick away. Some of them are starting to become hazy, but theres no way I can tell which is the real one right now. I stop myself from just pulling the wood out, resisting my first instinct. I need to bandage the wound so he doesnt bleed out. I quickly grab the first aid kit, pulling out all the gauze I can find, and then carefully set him on his left side. Hes fallen unconscious, due to shock or blood loss, I dont know. Im not a doctor. I rip his coat into pieces, avoiding touching the red, wet stick.

The smell of gunfire in such a tight space covers his scent, which is a welcome change from before. I start shoving the bandages around the wood chunk in an attempt to plug the wound, but I run out way too quickly. What else can I use? The blanket on the couch is a rough wool thats seen better days. That thing could be covered in who knows what, and might make him worse. While searching around the room, I realize I do have some more padding. I take off my shredded shirt thats being held together by just a couple of strips of fabric. Then, not bothering with the clasp, I rip my bra off. Its an inexpensive one Ive had for years, a basic nude number thats not even cute. I yank the cups off, grab about half the strips of my shirt, and stuff them all into every crevice that I can see blood leaking out of. I tie the remaining parts of my bra round his armpit, just below his clavicle, as a tournequet. The rest of the tattered shirt I tie around the wood to hold it in place.

I do a quick inspection of my handiwork, and it looks good. I dont see any blood getting past my fortifications, and hes still got a pulse. I planned on not contacting Eryk until I had captured all three people he wanted, but that was before I was half-naked and covered in a strangers blood. I need a shirt, and this guys not going to make it til tomorrow. I take a minute to look around and try to find my jacket. I find it on the floor easily, but Carbon turned it into Swiss cheese. Great, now I have to carry him all the way to the truck in the freezing cold with my tits out. Fun.

I pull off the highway, taking the exit marked Crimton as I follow the GPS to the address Eryk sent me. America has the weirdest town names. The two-hour drive back from Portland was during the dead of night, so Ive avoided dealing with anyone in my current nudeness. I had to crank the heat just to return feeling to my nipples. If Im honest, Im nervous to see him. I havent stopped to check on Carbon since I left, so theres a chance I might be delivering a corpse to Eryk. Coming back to him with nothing to show for my trip would be unacceptable. I already had to ask him to bring me some clothes.

The Crimton docks is just a bunch of abandoned warehouses that looklike its seen better days. I hit a pothole thats so big I bounce up and hit my head against the roof. The road here sucks; its uneven and paved weirdly. God damn it. There arent any people here; youd think at least some strays would use it for shelter from the winter, but its a ghost town. I pass burned SUVs and a limousine thats covered in bullet holes. It must be gang territory. That explains why no one is living here. There werent any gangs up in Nestor Falls or any of the surrounding towns. You can thank Canadas gun laws for that. About a hundred feet ahead, I see a white SUV parked in front of a giant crater. Viviennes car. I feel some of the tension leave me once I realize Im not facing Isaiah. Hes a scary guy, and it has next to nothing to do with his size.

I park, killing the engine and the lights. I take the keys and get out of the truck, walking around to the back of it. Moment of truth. Unlocking the rear roll-up door, I take a deep breath and shove it up and open. The soundproofing that was done to the truck made it so I couldnt hear a peep the whole ride. Chained to the wall, with blood dripping off him, is Carbon. Only his legs and left arm are manacled; there was too big a risk that hed rip the bandages if I chained up his right arm. Its faint, but I hear his shallow breathing. Oh, thank God. I almost fall to my knees in relief. A click from Viviennes SUV is followed by the sound of two sets of boots against the pavement. It takes a second, but Eryk comes around the side of the truck, flanked by Vivienne. After what I saw on Friendsgiving, Im not sure what I could do against her, and I have no clue what her power is. Eryks holding a bag that probably has the spare clothes, and thats when I remember that I am topless. Thisll be fun.

Whoa, the girls are out, Vivienne said, covering her eyes.

Did you bring my clothes? I asked Eryk, putting my hands on my hips and puffing out my chest.

Of course. But before that, what did you bring me?

Besides a show? I asked, biting my lip playfully. Carbon.

Can we hurry this up, Eryk? You two can have your reunion some other time. And Emma, would you PLEASE cover up? Vivienne asked.

I thought youd enjoy the show, I said suggestively.

Stop it, Eryk said, throwing the bag at me. Inside is a black lace bra, my red and white No Love croptop, and a pair of black low-rise jeans. Its a pretty hot outfit, which makes me suddenly wonder if hes looking to hook up tonight. Its not like Ive never had sex in the back of a car, but Im covered in a mix of Carbons and my own dried blood. I feel disgusting. I put the bra on first, for Viviennes sake, and then as soon as she uncovers her eyes, I rip my jeans off. She looks away again, and her uncomfortableness is delicious. Eryk walks past me without even a glance in my direction, which hurts, but cements that hes not here to fuck. Im equal parts relieved and disappointed.

He climbs up into the back of the box truck, with Vivienne also jumping up after him. Before Eryk can touch Carbon, Vivienne holds an arm up in front of his chest and then pokes the chained man with her shoe. Whats up with the paranoia? She nods at Eryk and steps back, letting him put a hand on Carbons face. Its sh*tty, especially because Viviennes gay, but I feel a spike of jealousy at how close they are. Could I be any more pathetic? Since when did I become so fucking basic? I finish getting dressed outside the vehicle as Eryk finishes taking the Neuvohumans power.

While theyre inside, I take a moment to look up at the night sky and admire the sight of the stars. Its clearer here than back in his apartment, but still not as clear as back home. This place is a real dump, but the views kind of nice. Eryk jumps down off the back of the truck and suddenly pulls me into his arms. I hug him back, enjoying the warmth and the closeness. He kisses my forehead, and when I look up at him, I see his smiling face.

You did great, darling. Im proud of you.