Grant never saw this coming. Chloe had just tried to take them both down, fully committed to the idea of dying together. In that moment, something clicked for him. She was out to eliminate him for Connor’s sake. But what puzzled Grant was why his foolproof acupuncture technique failed him this time. It had never let him down before.
Despite the metal shard that had pierced through her chest and the blood trickling from her lips, he strained to get a glimpse of Chloe’s state. “Chloe, Chloe…” he called her name, each word a struggle. She lay there, completely still, and for once, a rare wave of fear and pain washed over Grant's face.
He tried to move, but his lower body was pinned down, making it impossible. Then, to his utter shock, Chloe’s head lifted. Her face was smeared with blood. Under Grant’s astonished gaze, Chloe began to crawl out, her eyes steely with determination. She used her elbows to drag herself out of the wrecked cabin. Once outside, she slowly got to her feet.
Grant was taken aback, yet there was a flicker of relief in his eyes. She was alive. “Chloe, don’t go.”
Chloe kept moving forward, step by step. She was seriously hurt, blood dripping steadily from her forehead, but she didn’t falter. The plane was on the verge of exploding. Chloe felt her mind spinning, like it had been hit by a bomb, shrouded in a smoky haze. It wasn’t that Grant’s technique didn’t work on her; she had simply powered through with sheer will and the agony she was in to stay conscious.
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