He let out a hoarse shout, but his hands loosened on my neck and I sucked in greedy gasps of air, filling my burning lungs and coughing as I choked on saliva and air.
“You little bitch!” my attempted murderer screamed, likeIwas in the wrong here?
My limbs were weak and heavy, but my desire to live was strong. I yanked the knife out again with considerable effort—having maintained my grip on the handle—then used it to slash at the man. He stumbled backward, dodging my wild swings, and I used the distance to scramble to my feet. Now we were some feet from each other, with nothing between us except a bloody hunting knife clenched in my trembling fist.
“S-stay b-back,” I stuttered, my throat aching as I waved the blade in what I hoped was a menacing way. Cold and shock and pain, combined with oxygen deprivation, had made my whole face numb, and the words were hard to force out. Not to mention he’d been trying his best to crush my throat.
The man must have noticed my severe lack of experience with my weapon, because his guarded posture relaxed. Noticeably so. Fear for my life gripped me, and I stepped forward and slashed my blade at him again. Maybe I didn’t know how to use it, but how hard was it to stab someone? Besides, sometimes the unpredictable was harder to fight. Right?
My attacker must have agreed with my mental ramble, because he took a couple of quick steps backward, avoiding my blade and holding his hands up.
“Now, that’s not necessary, little girl,” he mocked me. “Put the knife down and I promise I’ll make it a quick death, yeah?”
I slashed at him again, forcing him back another two steps. “How doesget fuckedsound?” I spat back at him. I didn’t need to follow through with anything more threatening. He’d done exactly what I’d been aiming for.
His retreat away from my blade had carried him directly in front of Jasper’s hiding place.
As quick as a striking cobra, Jasper slashed the man’s Achilles, then dragged a second blade across my attacker’s throat as he dropped to the earth.
The whole thing was over in less than three seconds.
For at least double that, I just stood there frozen in horror as blood spread in a rapid pool around the black clad man’s body. It was so... thick. So dark. So fuckingfinal.
Bile burned a path up my throat, and I dropped to my knees, coughing up the meager contents of my stomach into a bush.
We weren’t safe yet, though, so as soon as I was sure I had nothing left to throw up I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and dragged my shock shaken ass back to Jasper.
“What now?” I asked him in a stricken hoarse whisper. I couldn’t seem to peel my eyes from the dead man. Not even when Jasper tried to get to his feet and collapsed again with a hiss of pain.
“Riles, I need you to pull it together,” he muttered, grimacing as he clutched a hand to his side. My tank top was still acting as a compress, but it looked heavy and wet with blood. “We need to get out of here. Hide until we’re clear.”
I nodded, but barely felt the motion. My head was so numb it was like I’d become a bobble head. “Hide. Right. Where? How?”
Having a task, a purpose, it helped me get a grip. Jasper was hurt and he was relying on me for help. We were sitting ducks, and he was dead right that we needed to move.
“Just help me up,” he suggested. “Probably help me walk too. We don’t need to go far, we just need to not behere.”
My head bobbled again, and I crawled over to him. He draped his free arm over my shoulder and leaned heavily into me as we stood.
Fuck me, he was in a seriously bad way.
Without wasting breath on pointless words, I let him direct me. All that mattered, was making it out of these woods alive. I wasn’t qualified to make that happen on my own, so I needed to place my faith fully in my companions—rich, pretentious assholes or not.
13
To my intense relief, we didn’t need to wait long before the others found us again. We’d been in our new hiding place—a fallen, hollowed out tree trunk—for only a short time before Evan’s grinning face appeared in the opening, scaring the living shit out of me.
“Sorry, Spare,” he teased. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.” The way he said it implied that I was only scared because I was a pathetic little girl, and my blood boiled with fury.
“Don’t be a dick, Evan,” Jasper replied for me then coughed a wet sound. “Get me out of here, I need stitches.”
Shoving Evan aside, I scrambled out of the tree trunk to make room for Jasper to get out. A hand appeared in front of my face, and I took it before even noticing who it was attached to.
“Thanks,” I murmured to Beck after he pulled me to my feet. He didn’t immediately release my hand, and I frowned. “What?”
My voice was still hoarse, my throat and side ached, and I was in no position to deal with Beck right now. He scowled down at me, doing his infuriating well-placed-shadow thing that only seemed to deepen his frown. “Are you okay, Butterfly?” His eyes trailed all over me—checking for injuries? I’d zipped my borrowed coat right up to the chin and pulled the hood up, so he wouldn’t be able to see the bruising that was sure to be showing on my throat. Neither could he see the horrible stabbing pain in my ribs, so I just gave him a tight smile and nod.
“Yep, totally fine,” I lied, wishing I could talk without rasping. Tugging my hand out of his grip, I took a couple of steps away and wrapped my arms around myself, watching as Dylan peeled my soaked tank top from Jasper’s wound and inspected the bloody hole.
