I cry out when he seizes both my wrists and yanks me close. Such fury radiates from his expression that I hold my breath, my eyes widening as I gape up at him.
“It was supposed to be you,” he whispers with such vitriol, his jaw tight, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I didn’t know he was with you.”
Like ice-cold water, realization slides across my skin, chilling and stopping my heart.
He killed Asher.
My lips part and I shake my head. “No.”
A tear falls down his cheek. “It’s your fucking fault.”
I yank my wrists free—and I run. I burst into the lobby and go for the front door, twisting and pulling at the handle, but it’s locked. I press my back to it, my breath coming in quick, sharp pants.
“Monty!” I scream.
I break into a run, but Hunter doesn’t pursue, and I know why. I try doors, windows, but none of them budge. The walls seem to close in as I sprint down hallways, throwing open bedroom doors and tugging uselessly on patio doors and window locks.
I’m trapped.
But I won’t give up. I can’t.
My bare feet slap against hardwood floors as I shove open doors to a small ballroom. Windows and a set of patio doors are on the far side, but before I can get to them, I slip.
My hip hits the ground and pain smashes through me. In the blue-black darkness, my eyes adjust to the liquid spreading through my jeans, and the body beside me.
“Monty,” I whisper, my voice cracking, touching her face. She’s not moving, a puddle of blood spread around her.
“Ella!” Hunter shouts, his voice echoing from another part of the house. “There’s nowhere to go!”
I scramble to my feet, my toes slipping in Monty’s blood, and I barely hold back a sob as I throw myself into the patio doors. They’re locked, but I ram my shoulder into them, cursing as they rattle but don’t open.
My fingers slip on the handle, blood staining the brass as I yank on them uselessly.
I can’t give up.
I won’t give up.
I just have to outrun him until Gable?—
A small gasp is all I manage as hot pain slices through my back. I slump against the door, a sickening, wet sound assaulting my ears as Hunter pulls the knife out and plunges it back in.
Warm blood spills across my skin, and I pant into the doors, the glass fogging with every breath.
My final breaths.
Hunter tugs my back to his chest and pushes the knife into my abdomen.
The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Nausea rolls through my stomach, and my skin feels painfully hot, even though my fingers feel close to numb.
My head drops back against Hunter’s shoulder, and I stare at the painted ceiling. Pretty clouds and dancing angels are blurred by tears and darkness in the edges of my vision. My jeans are wet, blood pooling at my feet, and I think about my dad.
About Gable.
About a life I’ll never have.
A tear falls down my cheek and into my hair.
“I’ll look after him,” Hunter whispers into my ear. “He’ll always have me.”
