Unbind me

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Seraphina Sterling
"my life was never about living, it was always about surviving"

━━━━༻❁༺━━━━

The door swings open, slamming against the wall with a force that startles me.

Juliette stands in the doorway, breathing hard, her chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven movements. She doesn't step inside right away. She just stares, taking in the room—the scattered cans, the half-packed duffel bags, James sleeping against Kenji.

Something is wrong.

Kenji shifts beneath James' weight, carefully adjusting the kid in his arms as he stands. I can tell it's getting to him—the extra weight, the exhaustion—but his face is unreadable. No jokes. No grins. Just quiet, restrained focus.

I follow his gaze as it moves to Juliette.

That's when I see it.

Blood.

It's everywhere.

Smeared across her face, staining her clothes, dripping down her hands.

It isn't hers.

A pit opens in my stomach.

Where the hell is Adam?

Kenji speaks first, his voice quiet but steady. "How is he?"

Juliette flinches—barely, but I catch it. She won't meet our eyes.

"I need you to drive," she murmurs. Her voice is hollow, distant.

Kenji takes a slow, measured breath, processing, deciding. Then he nods. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Okay," he says. "Yeah."

And just like that, we're moving.

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Juliette and I move fast, grabbing the bags and rushing toward the car, every movement laced with urgency. Even now, we stay cautious, our eyes darting over our shoulders, ears straining for any sign of pursuit.

We throw the duffel bags into the backseat, and as I turn to follow, my breath catches.

Adam.

Slumped against the seat, barely conscious, his body a mess of blood and bruises.

They got to him.

Before I can say anything, Kenji signals for me to come closer. His voice is low, urgent. "I need you to hold him while I drive, okay?"

I hesitate. Just for a second. But then I nod.

I pull open the door and slide into the leather seat. Kenji carefully transfers James into my lap, his small body warm and limp against mine. I've never held a child like this before. It feels foreign. Too fragile.

The door slams shut, and I glance up just in time to see Kenji limping around the front of the car. He's still struggling to move, even after the rest we just had. But he doesn't complain. He just grips the door handle, exhales sharply, and slides into the driver's seat beside me.

He flicks his eyes toward the mirror, scanning the backseat before turning to Adam. "Good to see you alive, Kent."

Adam lifts his head slightly, his gaze unfocused. "Thank you," he breathes. His voice is weak, strained. He swallows hard. "Both of you."