My heart stops. Panic slams into me so hard I nearly stumble out of cover.
Every muscle in my body wants to charge him, tear him off her, break every bone in his hand one by one—but the knife. One wrong move, and?—
My stomach twists. I can’t risk it.
I lean on the tree beside me, forcing myself to breathe through the rage clawing at my chest. I have to think. I have to be smart. If I spook him, if he sees me before I’m ready, it’s Blake who pays the price.
But I’ve never felt more out of control in my life.
The knife is too close to her skin. I’m ready to risk everything when Blake’s eyes flick over his shoulder. Right to me. Just for a heartbeat. Then she straightens, fearless, her voice steadier than I could even consider forcing mine to be right now.
“You really think this is going to work?” she asks, disdain dripping from every word. “You’re pathetic—hiding behind masks just so you can get off on hurting people with your creepy little frat-boy murder club.”
The guy jerks her hair hard, but she doesn’t flinch. If anything, she leans into it. She fuckinglaughs.
Wow, okay. My dick is hard.
Now isnotthe time, buddy.
“What’s the plan,Jonah?” she asks. It’s a guess, but the rough jerk on her hair when she says his name tells me she nailed it.
That hand.The one in her hair. I’m starting with that one. He will not be leaving here with any of his fingers intact.
“You gonna slit my throat, dump me in the river like you did Miles? Bet that worked outrealwell for you, considering we’vegot your faces on video, fresh out of the masks you were wearing when you killed him.”
He stiffens, his grip faltering for just a second. That’s all I need.
I burst from the shadows and slam into him with everything I have. Blake twists free, dropping to the ground as I drive him sideways. The knife flashes, grazing my arm before I wrench his wrist to an unnatural angle. He snarls, stronger than I expected, and we roll, trading blows. Still, he won’t let go of it.
Pain explodes across my ribs when his fist lands, then again as the blade rakes my other side. Hot and sharp, it barely registers under the red flooding my vision.
I swing harder—fists into jaw, into temple. He bucks; the knife flashes and bites my forearm. Blood runs in spurts from my split skin, but I don’t stop. I can’t.
Blake shouts something—my name, maybe—but it’s lost under the crash of us hitting the ground. One off move, and suddenly he’s beneath me, arm pinned. The knife jolts, his grip slips, and his own weight drives the blade home. The wet sound of it turns my stomach. His eyes go wide, mask half-cracked, before he slumps with the knife buried in his chest.
I climb off him, half stunned, half relieved. Blake is at my side in an instant, her hands on my face, steadying me.
Guess he won’t be needing his hands after all.No point breaking them now.
Red and blue lights strobe through the trees as sirens wail closer. Shouts carry, flashlights slicing through the dark.
I pull Blake into my arms, wrapping myself around her like I can shield her from everything, even now. She trembles against me, buries her face in my neck.
“I’ve got you,” I whisper, holding her tighter. My voice cracks, but I don’t care. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I love you.”
Her breath hitches, shaky and uneven. I press a kiss to her hair and let my eyes fall shut, sinking into the feel of her instead of everything else.
“We’re okay,” I repeat, softer this time, as if saying it might make it true.
Chapter 25
Blake
The woods are chaos. Flashlights slash through the dark, sirens wail closer, and the static of radios crackles over everything. Officers shout to each other as they fan out, and the masked body on the ground becomes just another piece of evidence for them to secure.
Word ripples quickly through the noise that there was a third masked guy in the trees, likely the jittery one from the video. He must’ve backed out again, because now he’s cuffed against a cruiser, spilling his guts to any cop who’ll listen.
In the mess of it, all I see is Mads.
