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Payton looked almost as horrified as Liam did. He was shaking his head slowly in disbelief. "I have to, Liam. You know how this works. I have to."
Liam bolted up, leaping from his seat, and pounded his fist into the table. "No you don’t, goddamn it. Say no. Just say no. We did this before." Liam gestured around the room at all of us then pointed at the ruined wall. "We fought back. We can do it again."
None of us really believed that. Not at that moment. We’d had our hopes destroyed when we saw that there was no escape. Sam was always one step ahead. It was like he was in our heads, and knew what we were thinking. If Payton didn’t obey, he was a dead man. And regardless of what he did or didn’t do, Liam was dead too. It was a lose-lose situation.
Payton’s face had gone pale, his brown skin turning almost gray with fright and horror. "Listen, I can, uh, I can make it quick, okay? I can do that for you, okay?"
God he sounded so weird, like he was negotiating the price of a car or something. Liam leaned across the table, his fear and panic vanishing in an instant. "Listen, you little shit," he growled. "You aren’t doing a god damned thing to—"
Faster than any person should be able to move, Payton swept his knife off the table and arched his hand toward Liam’s throat. The blade parted the flesh with no sound. It should have made some kind of sound. A tearing or slicing. Something? Instead, it was sharp enough that Liam’s neck opened soundlessly like a second mouth. Blood fanned across the food and the table. Bri screamed and Elise barked out a shocked gag and jumped away before the blood could soak her. Liam, eyes wide with shock, clutched at his ruined throat, pinched and pressing, like he could stop his life from pouring out.
His legs gave way and he tumbled back, landing on his back. He was retching and coughing, the blood, dark enough that it was almost purple, pulsed across his fingers.
"Help me," Bri screamed as she went down on her knees beside the dying man.
I sat frozen. Like my brain had stopped talking to the rest of my body. The only thing that worked were my senses. The awful sounds of Liam dying, the coppery scent of blood, and the agony on his face. Beside me a metallic clatter drew my attention away from the horror unfolding. Payton had dropped his knife. He stared at Liam in confused horror.
"Why isn’t he dead?" Payton asked, and I couldn’t be sure if he was asking me or himself. "In the movies they die right away."
He’d obviously not had to slit anyone’s throat thus far. I would have thought the same thing a year ago. Instead of a quick and painless death, Liam was drowning in his own blood, as the thick and viscous crimson fluid fought with the air he attempted to suck in. Christ, he was even trying to scream, but it sounded raspy and strange. Half the sound came from his mouth, the rest came from the gaping wound in his neck. Payton had obviously not cut deep enough to get the major artery.
Bri shoved her hands into the mess, trying to staunch the bleeding, but in doing so she cut off what air Liam was getting. The woman finally saw it was pointless. The misery and agony he was in sparking some kind of decision within her. She jumped up and rushed for the table.
"I’ll end this shit right now," she said through tears.
She grabbed her own knife and turned, raising the blade, ready to slam it into Liam’s heart, but she didn’t even get the chance to raise it. She screamed and fell to the side convulsing and clutching her cuffed wrist to her chest. For the first time, I realized Drake was holding my hand, squeezing it hard. He wasn’t looking at Liam. Instead, he stared stone faced at the table as the other man bled out and drowned. Sam wanted this to go slowly. He stopped Bri from ending it quickly.
Unlike Drake, I had to look. I needed to see it. Liam kicked at the ground, his heels thudding maniacally on the wood floor, his hands slick with blood. His fingers looked like red worms trying to burrow into the ruined throat to feast on something inside. Beside me, Payton was still muttering and asking why it was taking so long.
Finally, blessedly, Liam’s legs stopped kicking. The spark of life in his eyes faded, going vacant. Now slack, his hands slid away from his throat, the knuckles thudding on the wood. Through the flesh of his neck, I could see the white cartilage of his sliced windpipe, muscles, and veins. All that was left of Liam was a dead pile of meat and a puddle of blood on the floor. Bri sobbing beside him.
Chapter 7
DAHLIA
That night, I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep. The images of Liam writhing and twisting on the ground kept flashing through my mind. A movie I couldn’t pause or fast forward. It was awful, yet somehow, sleep managed to pull me under. The anxiety and stress of the situation must have been too intense. My brain simply shut off and I slipped into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning at breakfast Drake received his message that he was the one who had to go out. He stared at his device for several seconds before telling us what it said.
"You?" I asked dumbly.
He nodded. "Apparently. I’m going to go ahead and go. I’ll be back in a second."
The door of the dining room clicked open as soon as he stood. I watched him vanish around the corner before going back to my meal.
"Do you think lover boy there is gonna make it back?" Bri asked. There was no venom in her voice like usual. She stared out, eyes almost lifeless and empty. I had a hard time thinking she’d ever been emotionally attached to someone, but she’d gone dead inside after Liam’s death, proving I’d been wrong about her. At least to an extent.
Swallowing my bite of eggs, I tilted my head in a half nod half shrug. "No clue. I hope so."
Despite my best wishes, the spot on the floor where Liam died drew my eyes, pulling my attention away from the others. The blood had been cleaned fairly well, though I could still see a faint outline where it had slightly stained the wood floor.
Elise stabbed at a piece of sausage before nodding toward the front door. "Well, if anyone is gonna come back with a win, it’ll be Drake. That dude is like a fucking force of nature."
"And Liam wasn’t?" Bri asked indignantly.
Payton’s hands trembled, making his fork grate across his plate at the sound of Liam’s name. The squeal of metal on porcelain made my skin crawl. Still shaken up, guilt was written all over Payton’s face from what had gone down the night before. Bri hadn’t aimed any vitriol at him. That was a small blessing.
Elise cocked an eyebrow and glared at Bri. She said nothing, letting the look on her face say it all. Finally, Bri went back to her food without argument. She knew the truth. Liam had been a normal guy in a terrible situation. Drake was in the same situation, but he was far from a normal guy. All I could do was hope that Elise was right.
