CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
JAMES
I always knew the ghosts of my past might come back to haunt me. I just never thought it’d show up wearing Tyler’s face.
The moment he said Kevin’s name, it all came rushing back. I remembered him. He was the other kid in the woods with Kevin ten years ago. The one who tied my wrists, laughing, right before his brother pressed a cigarette into my arm.
I should’ve known. Ryan had the exact same burn scars I do, and he told me Tyler gave them to him. Same method Kevin used on me. All the signs were there. I just didn’t connect the dots.
The memory fades, but the sick feeling in my gut stays.
When Michael got back from hunting, I stayed in the tent as long as I could, just watching Sarah. What we shared this afternoon… it wasn’t just sex. It was the realest thing I’ve ever felt. She touched something deep in me, and I swear I did the same for her.
And I’ve never been more in love.
I pulled a blanket over her so she could sleep a little longer and told her I’d handle dinner. She was out in under a minute. I kissed her softly and set my dad’s old pocket watch on her favorite book. I got dressed, stepped outside the tent, and they were already there.
The Reed brothers. All three of them.
Michael was on his knees, hands tied behind his back, a rope jammed between his teeth. His face was bloody and bruised. They’d worked him over hard.
I reacted on instinct, reaching for my gun, but they grabbed me before I could draw it. I still got in a solid right hook to Russell’s face and a punch to Oliver’s gut. But then Tyler shoved a gun against Michael’s head, and I froze.
Just for a second.
One goddamn second.
And that was all it took.
Russell smashed me in the face hard enough to drop me. Oliver drove his knee into my back, and before I could fight back, they had me tied up—wrists, ankles, and a gag stuffed in my mouth.
They dragged me over next to Michael, across the fire. Then they just sat there, waiting. Waiting for Sarah to wake up. Waiting to drag her into my worst nightmare.
That was then. This is now.
I mutter to Michael, forcing the words past the gag. “They won’t… find… her.”
I’m trying to keep him calm, even though my heart’s hammering in my chest.
His eyes are locked on the dark woods, right where Sarah vanished, running at full speed. Russell tore off after her, and Tyler was right behind him, spitting blood from his busted nose—courtesy of Sarah. I knew she had the strength to do it.
The woods are alive with noise. She’s using that stone trick again, the same one that fooled Brandon’s gang. No way they can track her. She’s safe. She has to be.
“Outsider,” Oliver sneers behind us, “they better find her, or this boy here’s gonna pay the price for you breakin’ the rules.”
He slams a boot into Michael’s back, and I hear him suck in a sharp breath, biting back the pain, refusing to give Oliver the reaction he wants.
“Tyler will make sure you never forget—”
Oliver never gets to finish.
A loud crack splits the air, and something heavy drops.
I whip my head around and see Oliver sprawled on the ground, eyes shut, blood leaking from a fresh gash on his head. A broken log lies beside him, soaked in red.
A hand presses against my chest, pulling my gaze forward again.
I blink once. Twice.
Sarah?
She came back.
She’s right in front of me, her hands cupping my face, thumbs gently brushing the dirt and blood off my cheek. She unties the rope around my mouth.
My jaw aches as I stretch it, finally able to move.
“Sarah, you came back. Why would you do that?”
She presses her forehead to mine. “‘I will never lose you. You’re a part of me. And I’m a part of you.’ Remember?”
She kisses me, long and deep. And when we finally pull apart, we’re both smiling.
“Where are they?” I ask.
“Chasing ghosts, like you taught me.” She flashes me a sweet, proud smile.
She cups Michael’s cheek as she pulls the gag from his mouth, her eyes darting to the cut still bleeding above his brow. “You okay, big brother?”
“Yes, little sister,” he rasps. “Don’t worry about me.”
I scan the woods, from the shifting shadows in the clearing to Oliver, still unconscious behind us.
“Sarah, my hands,” I say, yanking at the ropes.
She moves fast, kneeling behind me. Her fingers dig into the knots at my ankles, working quickly.
“One down,” she mutters as the rope loosens and falls away.
She doesn’t pause. Her hands go straight to my wrists, working at the tighter, bloodier knots.
“They tied way more up here than on your ankles,” she mutters, the edge in her voice impossible to miss.
Her fingers brush against my torn skin, gentle despite the urgency. Even through the pain, I feel her warmth.
Something shifts at the edge of my vision. A shadow, too fast to catch.
I turn my head, searching—
But it’s already too late.
Thick, filthy hands close around Sarah’s throat, yanking her backward until her body slams into a tree near our tent, just beyond the fire. The impact rattles the branches overhead.
“Nice trick you pulled back there, bird,” Tyler sneers. “But I knew you’d come back for him.”
Sarah fights back, her boots kicking against the tree as he lifts her off the ground. Her hands claw at his, nails raking his wrists, but he just squeezes her harder, ignoring the blood she draws.
“Stop!” Michael shouts beside me, his voice cracking with pure terror.
Tyler lifts her even higher. Her body jerks, fighting, but her movements start to slow. Her fingers tremble against his. Her mouth opens in a silent gasp. And her green eyes—fuck, her eyes—start to close.
“No!”
Rage explodes in my chest, and I’m already up, sprinting.
I hurl myself at Tyler, hands still tied, but I don’t need them. My full weight slams into his shoulder like a freight train, knocking him off balance. His grip slips, and Sarah crashes to the ground, dropping to her hands and knees, coughing, gasping for air.
Tyler hits the ground with me right on top of him. I yank my arms apart, the rope slicing into my wrists. Pain tears through me, but I don’t care. Not until I hear it—
Snap.
The rope breaks, and I’m free.
I grit my teeth and lunge at him.
He tries to shove me off, but I drive my fist straight into his face.
My first punch lands with a sickening crunch—his already-broken nose shatters completely. The second cracks against his cheekbone, splitting skin open. The third smashes into his mouth, breaking teeth and filling his mouth with blood.
I grab the front of his jacket and yank him closer, holding him there.
“You touched her,” I growl, my voice barely human.
I punch him again.
And again.
And again.
“You fucking put your filthy hands on her,” I snarl, my knuckles cracking, skin splitting open—mine, his, I don’t fucking know anymore.
Another punch.
More blood.
And I don’t. Fucking. Stop.
Because he deserves it.
Because she’s mine.
And no one—no one—touches her and lives.
“James.”
Sarah’s voice cuts through the red haze.
My fist hovers mid-air, bloody and shaking.
My head snaps in her direction. She’s standing in front of our tent, and Russell is behind her. One hand tangled in her braid, yanking her head back hard enough to make her wince. But it’s the other hand that makes my blood turn to ice.
A pistol is pressed against her skull.
I release Tyler’s jacket, push to my feet, and take a step toward them.
“Let her go!” I growl, grinding my teeth until my jaw aches.
“Take one more step, and she’s dead,” Russell barks.
I didn’t even see Russell come back into the clearing. And I sure as hell don’t see Tyler move—not until his fist slams into my cheekbone.
The punch snaps my head sideways, and a shockwave of pain blasts through my skull. My vision whites out for half a second before I slam into the ground, my head hitting the dirt hard.
I press a hand into the grass, trying to push up, but a boot slams into my ribs. I grunt as pain shoots through my side. But that’s not gonna stop me—
Another kick.
Air punches out of my lungs, and I’m pretty sure I hear something crack. I roll onto my side, gasping, choking on nothing, trying to fucking breathe—
One more kick.
Fuck.
This one nails me in the gut. Blood rises in my throat as dirt and sweat flood my nose. The son of a bitch knows exactly where to hit.
“Stop hurting him!” Sarah shouts.
My fingers brush the grass. Even the air feels too heavy to pull in. But I can’t give up. She needs me—
A boot crashes into the back of my head. Everything goes black for a second, and then I hit the ground.
Tyler crouches beside me. “You shouldn’t have done that, Outsider.”
Then another kick.
Right in the face.
“Stop, please!” Sarah’s screaming now, and I can hear the tears in her voice.
“You fucking bastard!” That’s Michael, shouting too.
But the pressure in my ears drowns everything out for a minute, and even one minute is a lot. When the sound finally crashes back, the first thing I hear is Oliver’s voice.
“Fuck! My head.”
He groans, dragging himself up. He stumbles forward, one hand clutching his head, blood leaking through his fingers.
“The fucking bird hit me,” he growls, glaring at Sarah.
Russell, still behind her, laughs. “Not the first time. At least this one didn’t get too far.”
“Get the rope,” Tyler orders.
Oliver grunts, pulling a pocketknife from his jeans before heading to a nearby bag. He yanks out a coil of rope, slices a piece off with a quick flick, then stabs the knife into the log behind Michael, like he’s marking his spot.
My pulse pounds as he stalks toward me. I try to move, but nothing works. Every nerve feels dead. And then Tyler’s weight crashes down on my back, pinning me to the fucking ground before he yanks my arms behind me.
My cheek grinds into the dirt, lungs straining as I fight to breathe. Blood drips from my split lip, mixing with the dust choking my throat. I cough, struggling for air, trying to fight back—but it’s useless. He’s got me locked down.
I can’t see what’s happening. But I don’t need to.