The sharp knife reappears under my jaw, this time more firmly. Her hand is trembling, and I can’t tell if it’s because Imight’ve hit a vital spot or because she’s that angry.
“You’re going to die right here, Blair,” she grits out. “And trust me when I tell you, I’ll make it as painful as possible.”
“No, you won’t,” I respond.
The adrenaline pumps in my veins, and I can’t let this be my end. Not now, not here, and not by her. I raise my knee, hitting her hard in the groin. She doubles over in pain, and I use the opportunity to switch our positions until I’m straddling her.
The knife drops out of her hands, but I don’t let her grab it. Blood’s running hot inside of me, pumping and giving me the strength I need. My hand wraps around the handle of the knife on its own accord, and I’m surprised by the speed of my actions.
I mimic her previous actions, holding the object against her throat, watching as realization dawns on her. She’s fucking good at what she does; otherwise, she never would’ve been able to go undetected for as long as she had, and Simmons never would’ve hired an amateur. But I don’t think she counted on me having some training.
I’m nowhere near her level, or Arlo’s, for that matter, but I do good under pressure, apparently. And now that the momentum’s in my hands, I’m not letting it go.
“Any last words, Amy?”
THIRTY-FIVE
I’m not sure how many times I’ve stabbed Amy. It all happened too quickly, and by the time the adrenaline is out of my system, I’m exhausted.
The knife falls to the floor with a loud thud, my breathing heavy. My face is sticky from the blood that splashed all over me, my hands coated in the liquid. It’s a gruesome sight, and as I slump back, sitting on the floor beside her unresponsive body, I can’t seem to think straight at all.
That’s when the reality of the situation dawns on me. My eyes dip down to the state of her body, and I’m uncertain if it’s sheer, dumb luck or my subconsciousness, but somehow, I managed to avoid vital parts. She’s not dead — she’sdefinitely groaning and writhing in pain.
But she’s immobilized for the time being, and that’s all I need to figure out where to go from here. I need Amy alive, and I need her in good condition.
“Stop moaning,” I scoff. “You’re not dead just yet.”
Amy’s either too stubborn or too weak to respond, but I pay no mind to it. Instead, I pull my phone out, typing out Arlo’s phone number. Before I press the dial button, I pause for a moment, trying to come up with a good excuse and how to explain why I just left.
But that seems to be a failed attempt, because footsteps reach my ears. They’re at a safe distance from where Amy’s lying, and I’m sitting, but soon enough, they get closer and closer, until they reach the room we’re in.
A very, very angry-looking Arlo enters, and his eyes fall on me as soon as he’s inside. He rushes toward me, cupping my chin in his hands. Slowly, I get back to my feet, looking into his eyes.
“How many times are you going to just run off on me, butterfly?” His words are a mere whisper, his thumb brushing some of the blood off my cheek.
“This is the last time, I promise.”
He lifts a brow. “Is it?”
“Yes,” I nod, but he doesn’t believe it. I can’t exactly blame him; my record speaks for itself. Before I can try and promise him more of the sweet lies, Arlo switches the subject.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m okay. The blood’s not mine.”
“Good,” he releases a deep sigh of relief. “Do you know what was running through my head when I saw you were gone, butterfly?”
“Arlo—”
“No,” he cuts me off. “I’m not finished speaking yet. Not only did I get worried sick, but when I saw that my guns weremissing, how the fuck do you think I felt? Hopeless and useless yet again. I thought you’d gone missing again, Blair. I thought I’d lost you, again.”
“I—”
“I’m not done yet,” he interjects. “I love you, Blair. Being without you is like not having enough air to breathe. You’re the other half of me. And I can’t lose you. So, for the love of everything that is holy, I need you to promise me that you will never run off on your own. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, I’m here to help you through it. Just rely on me already.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, guilt gnawing at me. The look of pure, raw vulnerability is what makes my stomach drop. He’s looking like he’s been looking for me frantically, and I can’t even tell how long I’ve been in here with Amy.
“I promise.”
