Page 102 of Stolen Rebel

“Not… that… easy.” He grits out the words, his voice thick with pain.

He stumbles a few steps before collapsing, but he doesn’t stay down. He rolls, grabbing for me again, his blood slicking his hand as it closes around my wrist. I gasp as he drags me toward him, mud soaking into my knees, the knife trapped awkwardly between us.

His weight crashes into me, not full force, but enough to remind me exactly who he is. A gard who has trained for this, who works out as though everyone is the enemy. He’s stronger than me, bigger and far more dangerous. But I want it more.

For a horrific few beats, I think I might have killed him, but then he blinks, a cruel smirk on his face. “Liver’s on the other side. And I’m pretty sure you missed my spleen.” He tilts his head. “Nothin’ but a flesh wound.” He fucking laughs, like this is a trivial game of Twister on a Sunday afternoon.

He moves to stand, but I press the edge of the blade against his throat with one hand and jam my knee into the stab wound. He cries out.

“Phone,” I snap, pressing the blade even harder. A trickle of blood trails down his neck.

And Brian? He just smiles.

The fucker. He thinks I’m weak. He thinks I’m Erin, meek and scared of her own shadow. I’m not her. I never was.

Rage surges to the surface. I cut him this time, not enough to kill him but enough to show him I’m serious. “Don’t try me, Brian. I’ll slit your throat and leave you to bleed out.” My slick-with-blood fingers slip into his coat pocket, and I grab his phone.

He wriggles beneath me, trying to twist. I cut a little deeper and jam my knee harder into his side. Blood spills from the neck wound. The temptation to end it claws at me, but Liam still needs answers, and so do I.

“I said don’t fucking try me.” I dial Liam’s number. Thank fuck I know it from memory. “If it comes down to you or me, I’m the one walking out of this field.”

“There she is,” he rasps. “The good girl finally learned how to bite.”

“Who’s this?” Liam snaps.

My thighs tremble from where I’m straddling Brian, and my arm aches from holding the heavy knife in place. I’m saving myself, even if Liam’s giving me an assist.

“Liam, it’s me. I need your help.” I want to cry down the phone, let the adrenaline of the day wear off and collapse on the ground in a heap. But Brian’s too fucking slimy to let my guard down even for a second. I tighten my grip on the knife. “I’ve got him, he’s not going anywhere.” I don’t care if there are blood bubbles forming around the blade, I’d rather keep him under control with a neck wound than be the one to die.

For the first time in five years, I’m the one doing the holding, instead of being held.

Liam’s voice is a balm to the terror supercharging my bloodstream. “Tell me where you are.”

Chapter 45

LIAM

Gravel whips off the rear tires as I skid onto the road and floor the accelerator. The back end slides out and nudges an old oak tree. Dan braces himself by gripping the edges of his seat, and Jeff, who I called for extra backup once I realized Murray had dropped the tracking tag grabs the “bejaysus bar” above the rear door. “One piece, yeah, boss.”

One piece. If Rowan isn’t in one fucking piece when I get to her, I’ll chop that fucker up into a hundred. A thousand. I’ll break every bone in his body and drag out his death for days.

He’s not going anywhere. She sounded confident one minute, then panicked the next. As tough as my Rebel is, she’s nowhere near as strong as a gard, a man trained for strength and combat. Unless he’s out cold, and she’s got him trussed up like a turkey at Christmas, I’m taking no fucking chances.

“How long?” I grit out, driving too fast to risk taking my eyes off the road.

Dan glances at the GPS in the middle of the dash. “Five minutes.”

Too long. Too fucking long. Five minutes is more than enough time to overpower her and disappear. She got free of him once, but there’s no way he’ll be that sloppy a second time. If I lose her now, I might never get her back.

I brake hard at a sharp bend in the road, the rear end fishtailing. There’s a loud crack. I glanced in the rearview mirror.

“Fuck.” Jeff rubs his head. “Lucky I’ve got a hard skull.”

I ignore him, too riddled with anxiety to come back at him like I usually would. “Time,” I bark at Dan.

“Two.”

This is torture. I’m not going to make it. She can’t possibly keep Murray subdued for this length of time. I can’t lose her again. I fucking won’t. I refuse. I’ll burn the fucking world down searching for her, if he takes her from me a third time.