Page 241 of Fame & Rhythm

He’s actually okay.

Before I can fully react, Loretta drags me upright again, the knife now raised where they can see it, forcing them to slow as they approach.

“Annie, are you okay?” Aston calls, his voice tight with panic.

“I… I don’t know,” I answer honestly, my thoughts still slipping out of reach.

“If you’ve hurt her, I swear to God—” Aston starts, stepping forward.

Loretta yanks my hair, forcing me down to my knees, and I cry out as the blade presses against my throat, cold and sharp against my skin.

“Loretta, we have the money,” Dad says, his voice controlled but strained. “Just let her go.”

Mum is already crying, her gaze locked on me as though she’s afraid to blink.

“Give me the money,” Loretta jabs.

Dad throws the bag toward her, but she doesn’t move to pick it up. Instead, she presses the knife harder against my skin, and I freeze, barely daring to breathe.

“You have what you want,” Aston says, his voice low and deadly. “Now let. Her. Go!”

I glance at him, taking in the tension in his face, the way his jaw is clenched, the streak of dried blood in his hair, and my chest aches at the sight.

“I’d love to see you get to me before I open her up,” Loretta says with a smirk.

Aston moves.

Fast.

But the blade bites into my skin, and I scream as pain flares.

He stops immediately, hands raised in surrender. “Okay. Okay,” he says quickly. “Just let her go. You’ve got the money.”

“Open the bag,” she demands.

There’s a moment of hesitation before Aston looks back at Dad, who gives a small nod. Aston crouches, unzips the bag, and pulls out a thick wad of Monopoly money.

My stomach drops.

Oh God.

Loretta’s smile disappears.

Her fingers tighten in my hair, yanking me back against her hard enough that tears sting my eyes, and I cry out as she presses the knife closer to my throat. “I think I’ll stab her instead.”

“No!” Mum screams, her voice splintering across the clearing.

I don’t look at the knife.

I can’t.

My eyes find Aston’s instead, and everything else fades away.

The trees.

The morning breeze.

Mum crying.