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Chapter 869:
The two marshals, battered from the rollover, pulled themselves out of the wreckage, drew their sidearms, and tackled Alycia hard onto the asphalt. Her face hit the pavement. She kept screaming — a high, fractured, psychotic sound — thrashing against them, laughing between curses.
June stopped struggling.
The tears dried on her cheeks. The fear and the sorrow drained away, replaced by something cold and perfectly still.
She turned her head and looked at Alycia pinned to the ground.
Her eyes were no longer the eyes of someone in shock. The sheer, radiating stillness rolling off her made Easton’s grip loosen involuntarily.
June stepped out of her remaining heel. Barefoot, she walked forward across the broken asphalt. The shattered glass cut into the soles of her feet, leaving bloody prints on the gray street. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t feel it.
𝗪𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷е𝗿уо𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘀 rе𝖺𝖽іn𝘨 on
She walked straight toward the screaming woman on the ground and raised her right hand.
The wail of approaching sirens grew deafening. Three NYPD cruisers and two FDNY rescue trucks swerved into the intersection, their strobes painting the chaotic scene in violent flashes of red and blue.
Firefighters leaped from the trucks before they had fully stopped, sprinting toward the smoking Cadillac with the hydraulic Jaws of Life, shouting orders to clear the perimeter.
In the center of the carnage, June stood over Alycia.
The two bleeding US Marshals had her pinned face-down against the asphalt. Despite the weight on her back, Alycia twisted her neck upward and found June’s eyes.
She spat blood onto June’s bare, bleeding feet.
“Look at you,” Alycia hissed, her voice a wet, mocking rasp. “I’m going to prison anyway. But I took your loyal dog with me. He’s dying in that car because of you. It was worth it p>
The words hung in the freezing air.
June’s right arm came down like a whip.
The slap landed with the force of everything she had — every year of suffering, every scar, every night she had endured alone. The sound cut clean through the noise of the sirens.
Alycia’s head snapped violently to the side. The corner of her mouth tore. Two teeth bounced across the asphalt.
The mocking laughter died instantly. Her vision blurred. The pain shocked her system into silence.
One of the marshals looked up, hand dropping to his sidearm in low-ready position. “Ma’am — on your knees. Hands behind your head. Now p>
June crouched slowly, ignoring the glass cutting into her knees. She reached out and took a fistful of Alycia’s matted hair and pulled her head back until their faces were inches apart.
“Listen to me very carefully,” June said. Her voice was barely above a whisper — low, steady, and absolute.
Alycia trembled. The bravado was gone. She tried to pull away, but June’s grip was iron.
“If Marcus stops breathing,” June said, enunciating each word with chilling precision, “I will not let you die on a street. That is too fast. Too merciful p>
She leaned closer. Her breath touched Alycia’s bleeding cheek.