I pull my phone from my back pocket to check my signal, but my stomach drops when I see the shattered screen. It must’ve broken when I fell on the porch. I curse, shoving it back into my pocket.
“I’m going to cut you into little pieces, Red.”
This time, I frown when I hear the muffled voice. It occurs to me that something’s not right. Why would Dennis want to kill me? His obsession with me has always been sexual, not violent. And if he kills me, he won’t get any of my mom’s inheritance.
So why is he doing this?
His footsteps draw closer, and I realize that I need to move. I decide to circle back to the road; maybe I’ll get lucky and flag down a car.
Taking a deep breath, I jump up and run as fast as I can toward the house. Dennis’s heavy footfalls pick up as he pursues me. I break through the trees, the wind licking painfully at my chapped cheeks and numb hands.
I dash around the side of the house, slide on the snow-slick grass, and skid to my knees. My palm lands on a rock, the pain sharp in my wrist, but it’s the perfect throwing size. I roll onto my back just as Dennis grabs my ankle and hurl the rock as hard as I can. It hits him in the temple and he rears back with a curse, loosening his grasp on my foot.
I kick away from him and stand, prepared to run. That’s when I notice B’s truck and my car in the driveway.
Hope surges through me like fire.
I ignore the pain in my bruised tailbone, in my freezing hands and feet, in my twisted wrist.
I limp forward. “Brantley! Seb!” The scream rips my throat raw.
“Fi!” The cry comes from inside the house, and the door bursts open. The guys step onto the porch, looking around frantically. When they spot me, they jump down the steps, and meet me in front of the pond.
“He has an ax,” I sob. I reach Seb first, launching into his arms so hard that he stumbles.
“Not anymore he doesn’t,” B growls. He pushes past us and stalks into the yard.
I pull my face from Seb’s chest and turn to look at B. Dennis is groaning on the ground, clutching his head where I hit him, the ax discarded in the snow at his side.
Seb and I understand Brantley’s intent at the same time.
“B! No!”
The world seems to stop as he picks up the ax and hefts it into the air. His dirty-blond hair is a wild mess and his eyes are almost black as he swings it high.
“Michaels!” Seb screams, pushing me to the side and running for him.
“B, stop!” My brain flashes back to the moment I saw him on that TV bar screen, lifeless on the ice, blood pooling around his head. My fear is a debilitating weight, dragging me into panic.
Not again! No, no, no!
The wild swing goes wide, thunking into the ground next to Dennis’s head, and he turns to look at it with wide, frightened eyes.
I run forward, relief a rush of air in my lungs as B yanks the ax free. Dennis pushes himself up and charges Brantley with an animalistic roar, but Seb reaches him first, his fist connecting with Dennis’s nose. He falls back on his ass, rolling around in the muddy slush. His mask twists and covers his eyes, and he claws at the black material, finally ripping it off.
The world tilts like one of those pukey carnival rides when I see his face. His sharp blue eyes meet mine, and shock sucks the breath from my lungs as I gape at the familiar features that are definitelynotmy stepfather’s.
Seb stands over him, his chest heaving. He clenches his fist and steps forward to deliver another hit, but Brantley shoulders past Seb, wielding the ax.
Seb gapes in disbelief as B bares his teeth in a snarl andswings. The ax sinks into my assailant’s chest, blood splattering across B’s face.
I scream, my mouth wide with horror.
B lifts it again, but Seb grabs him, his knuckles white as he digs his fingers into B’s bicep, screaming his name. B stops and stares at Sebastian like he’s a stranger, tears streaming down his red cheeks.
Seb puts his hands on B’s face. “Look at me, Stitch. Breathe. We’re here. She’s safe.”
Brantley squeezes his eyes shut and lowers his head, and Seb gathers him against his chest, whispering something in his ear.
