CHAPTER 20
ILAY
The bullet rips through my shoulder before I can pull her fully into the cover of the trees. I hiss through my teeth, the burning sensation spreading instantly down my arm, but I force myself to ignore it. I have been shot before, and panic will only get us killed faster.
But if she had been hit? That thought makes my blood run cold.
We crouch low behind the thick brush, mud soaking into our knees. I see her hands trembling as she reaches toward me, her face pale with terror. "Are you in pain?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper.
"It’s just a graze," I lie, though I can feel the warm blood soaking through my jacket, sticking the fabric to my skin.
She doesn't believe me. She pulls the collar of my jacket back, gasping when she sees the wound.
Without a word, she strips off her own outer layer and presses the fabric against my shoulder, her hands shaking but determined as she applies pressure.
I watch her, distracted by the way her brow furrows in concentration, momentarily forgetting the chaos erupting around us.
Then I hear the crunch of footsteps nearby.
"On my mark," I say, gripping her arm to get her attention. "When I say go, you run. You run straight for the tree line and you don't look back."
She stares at me, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What? No."
"Iris, listen to me—"
"No!" she hisses, shaking her head violently. She grips the front of my shirt, her knuckles turning white. "I am not leaving you here. I’m not going anywhere without you, so don't even think about it."
I look at her. In the middle of a gunfight, with death closing in on us, she is arguing with me. She is terrified, shaking like a leaf, yet she refuses to abandon me.
"You're stubborn," I mutter, though I can't hide the rough admiration in my voice.
"I have a heart," she counters, her voice cracking. "There's a difference."
The noise of the gunfire seems to fade into the background as we stare at each other. The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins, but beneath it, there is something else. A magnetic pull that feels heavier than the danger surrounding us.
She doesn't look away. Her gaze drops to my lips, then back up to my eyes, searching for something. I raise my good hand, cupping her cheek, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. She leans into my touch, her breath hitching in her throat.
"I don't understand you," she whispers, her eyes searching mine.
"You terrify me with your obsession, looming over me and threatening the world like a deranged lunatic, but then you willingly let yourself be torn apart just to ensure I don't feel a single flicker of pain.
It makes no sense that you are the monster I should be running from, yet you are the only one willing to bleed just to keep me safe. "
I hold her gaze, my thumb tracing the curve of her jaw.
"Maybe I am both. Maybe the only thing strong enough to protect you from the horrors of this world is a madness like mine.
You can call me a lunatic, you can call me a monster, but don't ever doubt that I would bleed a thousand times over before I let a single drop of your blood hit the ground.
If being your nightmare is the price of being your shield, then I will gladly haunt you until the end of time. "
The space between us vanishes. I lean in slowly, giving her a chance to pull away, but she doesn't. She closes the distance, pressing her lips against mine.
It isn't a desperate, hurried kiss. It is slow, firm, and possessive.
I kiss her like I need the air from her lungs to survive, and she kisses me back with the same intensity, her hands tangling in my shirt.
For a few seconds, we aren't hunted animals; we are just two people desperate to feel alive.
When we break apart, we are both breathless.
"If we make it out of here," she says, her forehead resting against mine, "I’ll be yours, so please live for me."
"We will make it out," I promise, and for the first time in a long time, I actually care if I live or die. I check my gun. Empty. "We need to move," I say, helping her up. "Stay close to me."
We move quickly through the woods, keeping low. My shoulder throbs with every step, a dull, aching rhythm, but I push it down. We walk until the trees begin to thin, revealing the cracked asphalt of an old service road.
I pull out my phone, hoping for a miracle, but the screen remains blank.
"No signal," I mutter, shoving it back into my pocket.
"Mine is dead too," she says, checking hers.
We are alone. No backup. No way to call for help. Were completely isolated. I hear the rustle a second before it happens. My instincts scream at me to move. I spin around, reaching for my knife since my gun is useless, but I am too slow.
Bang. Bang.
Two shots ring out from the tree line. I duck, trying to shield her, but they aren't aiming for me yet. "Iris!" I shout, reaching for her. But she is already gone.
A man I recognize as roman steps out from the trees. He has one arm wrapped tightly around her neck, a knife pressed dangerously close to her throat. Behind him stands a man with identical features to him, points a gun directly at my chest.
"Whew," Roman says, a smirk playing on his lips as he tightens his grip on her. "You are one hard man to kill." I freeze. Every muscle in my body locks up. I could take the twin. I could take the bullet. But I can't risk Roman slicing her throat.
"Let her go," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "This is between us. Let her go and you can have me."
"Have you?" The twin laughs, shaking his head. "We don't want you. You're too much trouble. It's her we came for."
My stomach drops. "Why her?"
"Orders," Roman says simply. "Now, stand down, or I’ll slit her throat."
"Then take me as a prisoner, just take me along," I demand, stepping forward.
"Not a chance," the twin says.
He pulls the trigger. Bang. The shot hits me in the shoulder, the same one that is already bleeding. The force of it knocks me back, and I stumble, grit and pain exploding in my vision.
"No!" Iris screams, struggling against Roman's grip.
I try to regain my footing, but my vision blurs, and the twin fires again.
This time, the bullet tears through my thigh, forcing my leg to give out.
I collapse onto the hard asphalt, catching myself on my hands and knees.
I taste blood in my mouth. "Move out," Roman orders.
They begin to drag her toward a waiting van.
"Ilay!" she screams, her voice tearing through the air. "Ilay, get up! Please!" I grit my teeth, forcing my body to move. I drag myself forward, ignoring the agony screaming in my leg and shoulder. I have to get to her. I have to stop them.
The twin turns back, looking bored, and aims at me again.
Bang.
The third shot hits me in the side.
The impact slams me into the ground. The world tilts sideways, gray spots filling my vision, but I refuse to close my eyes. I watch helplessly as they shove her into the back of the van. The doors slam shut, cutting off her screams, and the engine roars to life.
Rage, hot and suffocating, claws at my chest, overpowering the agony of my wounds. I dig my fingers into the asphalt, scratching until my nails break, and force my upper body off the ground. Blood pours from my mouth, but I don't care. I need them to hear me.
"YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED ME!" I bellow, my voice booming across the empty road. "BECAUSE NOW I AM COMING FOR YOU!"
The van begins to pull away, kicking up dust, but I drag myself forward, shouting at the taillights blurring through my tears.
"I will find you!" I roar, choking on the copper taste of my own blood. "I will peel the skin from your bones while you're still breathing! I will make you watch as I rip your insides out! Death will be a mercy you won't get! I will make you beg for hell just to escape me!"
My voice breaks, turning into a guttural snarl as the van disappears around the bend.
I collapse back onto the dirt, my vision fading, but the fire in my chest burns hotter than ever.
They made the mistake of leaving me alive. And now, I am going to make sure they suffer a fate so horrific that even the devil will turn away in disgust.