Chapter 47

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"Do you think it will get better?" Lyla suddenly asks as I continue to load the guns

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"Do you think it will get better?" Lyla suddenly asks as I continue to load the guns.

"Better?"

"Rayden's death," she mutters, taking the loaded gun from me and putting it to the side. "And my parents' for that matter."

"Better, no." I shake my head. "I still remember the loss of my parents like it was yesterday."

"Me too," she replies, her expression forlorn.

"It'll get easier to deal with as time passes though," I assure her. "I still think about him every single minute of every day."

"He really liked you," she says softly and I look up at her surprised.

"He liked you too," I reply and she nods, turning back to the guns.

"Are we ready?" Jordan asks, poking his head into the room.

"Just on the last one now," I reply and he nods, walking in and grabbing a couple of weapons from the surface beside me before disappearing.

"Are you scared?" Lyla asks and I bite my lip, focusing my attention on the gun. It's been two weeks since Rayden's death and we're finally ready to make our last move before we get the fuck out of here.

Looking up at Lyla I can see the panic in her eyes, her expression pleading with me to reassure her, but what can I say but the truth?

"As always, I'm petrified," I answer honestly.

*~*~*

Walking down towards the city hall we keep to the back streets, four of us running ahead to check for Enforcers before they urge the rest of the group forward.

"Hey," Claudia whispers beside me and I grin.

"You okay?" I ask and she nods.

"I can't wait to get out of Nottingham." She smiles. "No Enforcers, airy countryside-"

"We hope there are no Enforcers," I retort and she shoves my shoulder.

"Don't be such a downer!" Claudia grins as we stop once more. "I just want us to be away from all their rules."

"Me too," I agree.

"So that you and Zac can finally admit your undying love for each other?" she teases and I roll my eyes.

"Definitely not," I retort.

"I can't believe that you two are still in denial."

"We are not!" I protest as we continue down the narrow path.

"Please!" She scoffs. "You don't think we hear you at it all night?"

"Sex doesn't mean feelings," I argue and she smirks.

"It does when you wake up and bring him breakfast in bed, or when you kiss in public, or when you spend hours laughing with each other in the kitchen, or when-"

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