Page 124 of Pucked Around and Found Out

I need a weapon.

The door slams open behind me and I bite my scream of fright.

“It's fitting, isn't it?” Masen says, his voice eerily calm now. “That you'll die in the same kitchen where Mom used to make us breakfast before Dad killed her. Where we were a family before everything went to shit.”

His words land like a sucker punch.

I want to ask questions but I don’t have time. I need to remain focused. I can deal with what really happened to my mom later when I’m safe.

I grab a chef's knife and whirl to face him.

“Stay back.” My voice quivers but I hold strong.

He laughs. “You really think you can fight me? You've never been in a real fight in your life, Tor. Not like this.”

“Then you'll be surprised, like the day you tried to threaten me at school. I’m not the helpless girl you thought you knew,” I say, even though my hands shake.

“Put the knife down,” he orders. “I'll make it quick. You won't suffer. The baby won't suffer. One shot and it's over.”

“Fuck you.”

His expression hardens. “Wrong answer.”

He raises the gun, aiming at my stomach, and I throw the knife.

It's a terrible throw, but desperation makes it count.

The blade catches him in the shoulder—not deep, but enough to make him stumble.

“You fucking bitch!” he snarls, and I grab another knife.

He lunges forward and I swipe at him, catching his arm.

Blood blooms across his sleeve.

But he's bigger, stronger, and trained.

He backhands me across the face with the gun.

Pain explodes through my skull and I slam into the counter, seeing stars.

“That's for making me do this,” he spits, grabbing me by the hair and yanking me around as a scream tears out of me. “That's for choosing him over your own family.”

Family…

It’s such a meaningless word now. We were never a family. We were more like a faction, bound by blood and loyalty but I see now that it was one sided. I was loyal to them but they never were to me. I was raised like cattle, fed and groomed to perfection so I could be paraded around until the highest bidder came along and bought me.

He shoves me against the island, the gun pressed against my stomach.

“Any last words before I end his filthy fucking bloodline?” he asks.

Terror gives way to rage.

Pure, white-hot rage.

“Yeah,” I gasp. “You were always a shitty brother, it just took me longer than it should’ve to realize it.”

I drive my knee up into his groin with everything I have.