AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re going to fucking pay for that.” He limps toward the nightstand, picks up the hunting knife and stalks back toward me. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to fucking kill me. I brace myself for the attack. At least it won’t be rape, right? Tears stream down my face as he grips my hair with one hand and painfully forces my head backward. This time he wraps his legs on either side of mine so I can’t kick him again. I can feel his now limp dick against my hip. He holds me still and brings the blade of the knife to my chest, my nipple.
“No!”
I twist this way and that as I feel the cutting edge of the knife slice into soft flesh.
“That’s it, little bitch. Fight me. I’m going to rape that little asshole while I slice off your nipples.”
His phone rings then and it takes both of us a moment to figure out what the sound is.
“Fuck,” he mutters and stalks away, that knife in his hand. I turn my head to follow him as he picks up his cell phone. He doesn’t answer right away, his face growing darker. The phone stops ringing but starts again and he glances at me as he answers.
“Yes, Mr. Girard. I told you I’d bring her as soon as I?—”
He stops. His mouth falls open. “What did you say?” he asks, tone different. He drops onto the edge of the bed.
I scream then. I have to because here and now, bound as I am, I am at his mercy. This Girard might be as bad or worse, but I need to take my chances.
And so, I scream for help, I yell at the top of my lungs that he’s going to murder me. I scream and scream and when I pause to catch my breath, I think I hear a sound outside. The crunching of tires. But my brain doesn’t have time to process before I start again, shutting my eyes to call up all my strength. I only stop when I’m slapped so hard across my face that I swear I feel my brain rattle against my skull. Dazed, ears ringing, I open my eyes to see spots and the vague shape of him.
My eyes are slow to focus. He's there, standing in front of me. Wyatt Hoxton.
I blink, my head heavy.
“He’s dead,” he’s saying when I manage to look at him again. “He’s dead, you little bitch.”
He slaps me again and this time, the ringing in my ears is all the sound I hear, and I think I’m seeing things. I must be. The door is crashing open. But that makes no sense. Not when Wyatt backhands me once more.
“Zeke,” I manage to say, tasting blood, my mind creating the illusion of the man who should hate me. Whom I tried to destroy. That man with all his radiant, burning fury on his beautiful face the last thing I imagine I see as I take the next blow, this one to my stomach, Wyatt’s fist as deadly as his hunting knife.
6
EZEKIEL
Ithink I hear her call my name. I think through the deafening pumping of blood in my ears, I hear her say my name. But then he hits her again, this time a blow to her stomach that forces the air from her lungs.
Blue is hanging by her wrists in the middle of the room. She’s naked, her body, what I can see of it over the hulking back of Wyatt or Levi or whichever the fuck he is, is covered in welts and bloodied. Her face, too, her pretty face, is smeared with blood. Her head lolls forward, she’s passed out when he hits her again. She won’t feel that, at least. That’s a blessing, right?
Some blessing.
I stalk toward Hoxton as he registers the interruption. And I understand why he didn’t turn when the door came crashing in. I see the fury, the utter rage etched into his face, his eyes, his mouth and his fists.
It takes him a moment to make sense of me being there and I take advantage of his confusion. I draw my arm back and rather than punching him, I slam the heel of my hand into his nose, which already looks bloodied.
There’s a crunching sound before something clatters to the ground. I register that it’s a hunting knife. He stumbles backward, right into Blue. She sways, unconscious and I can’t have that. I can’t have him touching her.
I pull him away by the shoulders and this time, I punch him and watch his head jerk to the side. Otherwise, his body doesn’t move. It’s like he barely registers the hit. He shakes his head, looks at me, pin-prick black pupils in colorless eyes, like his brother. They could be twins.
He roars, animated, and like a fucking bull, charges me, head down, the sound he makes inhuman as he takes me down. We knock into Blue’s legs, slide on dirt before coming to a stop. He’s on top of me and he draws his fist back to punch my face. He manages it, and fuck me, he’s like a fucking bear, bigger than his brother even.
My head jerks to the side but before he can get another hit in, I grip his face, digging my fingers into his eye sockets, forcing the heel of my hand into his broken nose until I manage to shove him off me. It gives me just enough room to dodge his next blow and punch him in his limp dick.
He groans, cupping himself and I get to my feet, hauling him upright. He tries to knock me down using his shoulder as a battering ram and we both go crashing into the far wall, knocking his array of whips to the floor, we go down.
I glance at Blue who is opening her eyes. I take in the welts, see the discarded rod he used to hurt her. “Mother fucker. I killed your brother. I’m going to kill you, too!” I shove him backward and stalk toward him, fueled by hate, by blood, by a burning need for vengeance.
“You! You killed Levi!” he says, looking around him, his eyes landing on the hunting knife on the floor by Blue’s feet. “I’m going to fucking kill you and then I’m going to kill your whore.”
He dives for the knife, but Blue is alert enough to knock it out of reach. It’s just a few paces, her feet don’t quite touch down, but it’s something.
