He’d been vibrating with anticipation. Like he had all kinds of pent-up energy just waiting to be unleashed. Now he went stone still.
Time seemed to grind to a halt as they stood among the trees. He held her tightly in his arm with the knife to her cheek. She barely felt the slice of the blade across her skin and the blood that ran down her face. The sirens in the distance faded behind the blood rushing in her ears. Her focus shrank to the quiet solitude beneath the canopy of tree branches and the man on the verge of doing something terrible.
The stillness gave way to a cry so feral she didn’t recognize it as the man completely losing his mind, and screaming, “Noooo!”
She was connected tohim, belonged tohim.
He’d felt it at the party.
He spun her around and held her by the shoulders. The evidence of her betrayal couldn’t be denied. All this time he’d prepared to show her she belonged to him, and she’d gotten pregnant with another man’s bastard.
He shook her. “You were supposed to be special. You weren’t like the rest of them.”
He’d used those other women, but Brooke was supposed to be the one who really wanted him. She’d seen into him. She knew how he felt inside.
She’d seen past what everyone else saw and looked deeper.
Blood rushing, rage rampaging through his system, he couldn’t think or hear anything. He could only see Brooke and how she’d betrayed him. “You were supposed to be mine!”
He rushed her, plunging the knife down in a wide arc. She tried to turn to get away, to run, but the knife sank into the front of her shoulder with such power, it forced her to turn back toward him. He pulled the knife free and stabbed her again in almost the same spot.
Her eyes went wide as she screamed in agonizing pain.
He didn’t care. He wanted her to hurt the way she made him hurt. “You were mine! Why? Why would you do this, you spoiled bitch.” He pulled the knife free again, slashing at her several times, but something came over her and she fought back, blocking him from stabbing her again. “You ruined everything!” He backed her up as he brought the knife down on her again and again, slicing up her arms and hands. The more times he hit her and the more blood he saw, the greater the need to make her pay.
“Betrayer!” He sliced her again. “Bitch!” He stabbed her arm. “Whore!” He cut her across her fingers.
The adrenaline that had run through his system making him want to fuck her had turned into a red haze of rage.
He wanted her dead.
Instead of trying to back away this time, she came at him, grabbing his ski mask and smacking him in the face. He shoved her back. The ski mask pulled free in her hand and for the first time, she saw his face.
He looked right at her, his breath coming out heavy against her face. He held her bloody arm in one of his hands and the knife in the other poised above her. She had her hand on his chest ready to pushhimaway.
“Adam?” she said, shocked.
Without thought, blinded by rage and panic, everything tunneled in, focused on her, he plunged the knife down and buried it in her. The slippery blood ran over the knife handle, oozing through his fingers and making the knife slip from his grip.
She came after him with a vengeance. She hit him in the face and raked her nails down his cheek.
He grabbed her wrist to keep her from scratching him again. Off-balance, they fell to the ground, her arm hitting a large rock and snapping under the force.
Despite the broken arm, she kept struggling.
With blood on his gloves, he couldn’t hold her.
She slipped out of his tight grip, scrambled up, and tried to run. He grabbed her ankle and held tight as she got up, twisting her foot and bringing her down again. She kicked and struggled, but he gripped her legs and climbed up her body as they fought in the dirt.
Adam rolled her onto her back and stared down at her, shocked.
Brooke looked down, her eyes went wide, and a scream rose up out of her and echoed through him.
They both stared at the knife handle sticking out of her swollen belly.
Stunned, Adam’s world stopped. He couldn’t believe what he saw. Blood covered her shoulder and her arms, but it was the blood pumping out of the wound on her belly that left him reeling. Dark red oozed freely out from under the pulsing handle of the knife. Her rounded belly, a reminder of the small, innocent baby inside her.
Sound exploded around him and echoed in his head. Sirens squealed and people yelled Brooke’s name.
