“She’s upstairs,” one of them says. “Where’s G?”
“Fuck if I know.” Another voice. “Where’s the dog? I don’t fancy gettin’ bit.”
There’s a bang, like a door hitting a wall.
“Hey! I’m in. Side door.”
A third voice. There are five, not four.
I can’t wait to tell her “I told you so.”
There are different ways to plan an attack like this. Asher preferred the quieter approach, but I’ve always been a firm believer that when there’s a group, it’s best to go in all guns blazing. It throws them off guard, and I’ll have killed at least two of them by the time the third one has recovered from his shock.
So, I stride forward.
By the time the first guy sees me and opens his mouth to shout, my knife is in his throat. Blood spits across my face and the snow, and I yank the blade out. He hasn’t even hit the ground and I’m already advancing on the second man. He’s bigger, but nowhere near my size.
The cold bites into my bare feet as I sweep the knife out.He hops back, recovering quickly, and I’m not even disappointed. I toss the knife.
It’s been a while since I’ve gone toe to toe with someone.
And I have a lot of rage to let out.
He throws a punch and I step back. Another fist, another step. I weave left and right, laughing as he attempts to land a hit and misses every time.
“This is what I’m up against?” I ask. “How did you morons find us?”
He’s breathless from his pathetic attempt at attacking. “You won’t be laughing when I fuck your girl before cashing her in.”
The cold vanishes.
Heat rushes through my blood, across my skin, a mist of red almost blurring my vision. I wouldn’t be surprised if steam were curling from my skin. My heart rate doesn’t increase—it steadies, it slows, a dull, rhythmic beat in my ears as if timing my next moves.
My knuckles meet his nose.
The power in my punch knocks him back. He stumbles, his back meeting the porch railing, and I seize his jacket, throwing him into the back of the cabin before I advance.
I pull my fist back, and I unleash hell.
The thuds become wet. Bones crunch. Skin separates. Blood weeps.
I don’t remember him falling to the ground or straddling his chest as I throw punch after punch into his mangled face.
My muscles burn, and it’s only that sensation that brings me back into myself. I heave in bitter breaths, dropping my head back as his blood cools on my skin. Bursts offog erupt from my mouth and into the night sky as I attempt to catch my breath.
Death.
It’s so strangely peaceful.
Absolute.
Quiet.
No heartbeat. No rushing blood. No racing thoughts.
Delivering death lends you a glimpse into the magic of it. It’s like quenching the longest thirst. So. Damn.Satisfying.
Footsteps pull me from my thoughts.
