I chewed.
Gabe bellowed and slammed his fist across my cheekbone, and we grappled. He punched me again, this time in the side of my head, and I saw stars. I wasn’t letting go, wasn’t letting up.
“You said what you did to Margaret was for me?” I growled out, spitting his minced flesh back at his face. Most of it fell right back onto me as he crowded over me, swiping at his injuries. “You did that because I hurt Les? There you go.”
More shouting sounded, but no one else was coming to us. I was aware of a commotion across the table, but Gabe was too strong, and I couldn’t get up from the floor with his heavy weight on me. Still, I fought. Even when he had his knife out, even when it pressed to my chin. I pushed down, so it dug in, breaking the skin and bursting blood. I was already coated in the stuff, so what was a little more? He needed to know I wasn’t afraid.
I felt sick.
I didn’t give a damn anymore. My own terms. This is what I sensed before, when I was stuck with them for so long. My own terms were better than theirs. Look at Margaret. Was there a more brutal way to go? I couldn’t live another second under their thumb, not knowing what pain I might suffer tomorrow.
I didn’t want any tomorrows if they looked like that.
Released from the coffin, this was me, free to leave.
“Violet!” Theo bellowed, his voice the only thing breaking through to me, and I was desperate for just another moment with him. Another few seconds to breathe him in before I went wherever it is we go next. “Vi!” he shouted again. “Hang on!”
The sound of fighting rang through my ears, and not only from Gabe on top of me, battling my wild, unaimed punches and kicks. Blood poured from his cheek and into my mouth, choking me when it hit the back of my throat.
I didn’t want to eat flesh, of course not, but they’d shown me more than once how afraid they were of my teeth. And unless they knocked them all out, it was an easy weapon.
“You fucking bitch!” Gabe growled at me, his large hands on my face crushing and squeezing. “Such a waste of fucking time you have been.”
With my face to the side, his weight on me as he tried to crush my head, I scratched at him, kicked at him. Fought with everything I had.
“Get off!” I screamed, needing Theo one more time before I let go.
Then lightness as Gabe ripped off me. His knife clattered as his body disappeared, letting air return to my lungs with a rush.
Theo stood above him, and as my eyes came into focus, I realized he was kicking the man in the stomach, Rafe on the other side of him, beginning to stand back up. Theo had got himself free too. Of course, he had. For the first time, the tiniest glimmer of hope hit me. My clever, brave, amazing brother.
I felt nothing but pride for my brother in that moment, but didn’t let it last as I struggled to rise. There was too much left to do. I’d show him my love for him later. If we had a later.
I was bloody weak as I stood and straightened up, my head woozy and my limbs tired. The only food in my belly the flesh of my dead sister. My stomach roiled, but I held it in. Now wasn’t the time. I refused to even look at the table until this was done.
I dove for Gabe, his knife brandished in my hand, so Theo could stop Rafael. Two on two, we had this. We had to have this.
Together, we worked, keeping both men at bay. When Theo jumped onto Rafael, I sat on Gabe, grinning at the sight of him, a little out of it, weaker, woozy. I stabbed him in the gut.
I stabbed once, twice, three times, enjoying every bit of resistance I felt as his body tried not to welcome in his own blade.
My attention never left him as he groaned and spluttered, as his eyes rolled back, as blood dribbled from his mouth.
“I hit something vital,” I mused, whispering to him, holding the knife to his throat in case he attempted to lunge. I wished he could have a slower death, but I didn’t have time for that. To drag it out. It was now or never for this man.
So I watched every second of it as Theo fought Rafael, slamming into walls, into the table, landing punches and kicks while Connor shouted and begged to be let free too.
They grappled until Rafael got hold of his gun and pointed it at Amy. She and Connor were still tied to the table, but while she was resigned, watching the commotion with fear, Connor was a ball of fury, trying to get free with a fierce desperation. So much chaos.
“Fuck all of you!” Rafael bellowed, looking disheveled for once. His hair wasn’t neat; he had red splashes on his clothes, and he was favoring his right side. He stepped behind Amy, the gun pressed against the back of her head.
I dragged my eyes down to make sure Gabe was dead, my fingers drifting to his neck to count heartbeats. None. No beats. I breathed for him, to spite him.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Connor screamed with his entire being, crashing my attention back to the room, his voice breaking, his chair creaking as he fought against his tie. He was almost up, like he was ready to tear clean through the rope to reach Amy.
He was red and purple, seconds away from shredding his body, like he’d lose his hands for her, his feet. All of it.
Rafe looked at him and smirked, shaking his head. “Looks like it runs in the fucking family.” He readied the gun.
