Chapter 2 Saint #2
Every muscle locks up, my entire body turning to stone. Mentally, I know I need to run, to escape whoever this person is, but my brain is frozen. The man moves, stepping over the body at his feet like it’s not even there.
You’re next. That’s all I can think. You’re next.
My bottom lip trembles, and I silently scream at myself to move—to do something, anything. When he steps into the glow of the porch light, I glimpse the killer’s face.
Dear Lord, it’s not a stranger after all.
It’s Calder Bishop.
The name pounds like a second heartbeat in my head, dread and memory colliding.
The first-aid kit slips from my nerveless fingers, clattering against the porch with a hollow plastic thud. The water and blanket follow suit.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
Air catches hard in my throat, the sound too loud in the charged silence.
Calder’s icy-blue eyes meet mine, and I don’t know why I do it, but I search for some resemblance to the man who looked at me with unexpected heat a year ago when I made the horrible mistake of kissing him. To the man who picked me up when I broke my wrist and told me everything would be okay.
It’s obvious that part of him is dead. The man in front of me might as well be a stranger.
His gaze assesses me with the detached interest of a wolf sizing up potential prey.
I tear away from the eye contact and notice the blood on his face.
Oh God. My stomach clenches at the sight.
The blood isn’t only on his face but also on his hands, shirt, and the front of his jeans.
Danger. Run. Saint. Move.
Instinct finally takes over, and I stumble backward—heavy, clumsy, as if boulders are tied to my legs—and nearly trip over the threshold.
Keep going. Whirling around, I bolt back into the house.
The slap of my bare feet against the hardwood echoes through the house, loud and frantic. Every breath burns in my chest.
Where do I go?
The kitchen—that’s my only chance. From there, through the back door. Then into the woods.
He closes the distance between us, his boots beating against the wood, his steps faster, so much faster than mine.
“Saint!” He yells my name, but I don’t stop or look back. I race into the kitchen, and the moonlight spilling through the window lights a path to freedom. I just have to get there.
Three steps.
My lungs burn.
Two.
My heart slams against my ribs.
One—
Fingers clamp around my arm, jerking me back, and a scream claws its way out of my throat, filling the air with a piercing cry that sounds more animal than human.
Fight him.
Don’t give up.
Rationally, I know there’s no escaping a man the size of Calder, but I can’t stop.
The world around me spins when one second I’m moving forward and the next I’m being slammed into a wall, the impact biting into my spine.
I’m so scared I don’t even feel the pain.
My chest heaves as I struggle to drag air into my lungs.
Calder is right in front of me, his gaze meeting mine, and all I can do is whimper, praying there’s some small amount of mercy left in his soul.
Panic claws at my insides, and it only grows more ravenous when he doesn’t move.
He simply stands there staring at me, watching, like a snake waiting to strike.
I can’t make sense of the way his eyes change from soft to cold steel, or the guilt that flashes there the longer he watches me. Maybe it’s kindness bleeding through, or maybe it’s God telling me it’s going to be okay.
I don’t know, but I latch onto that small hesitation, that tiny bit of mercy.
“Please…” I whisper, letting my eyes fall closed as they fill with tears. “Don’t kill me.”
“Begging won’t change what’s going to happen, Saint.” The way he says my name, like it’s an afterthought, makes my insides churn.
I know he’s right. My only hope is that God will spare me. So I pray.
“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge.” I say it twice, waiting for something to happen, anything, and then it does.
Angrily, Calder clamps a hand over my mouth, and my lids snap open. The coppery stench of blood from his hand seeps into my nose.
I gasp, struggling against him, but there’s no moving him.
“Stop! Save your prayers for when they matter. God can’t save you from me, Saintlyn. Not now, not ever.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong. That God can save anyone he wants, but I’m too consumed with dread to do anything but stare into his eyes. Cold tears slide down my cheeks as the reality of the situation sinks in.
I can’t die. Not yet. I’m too young. There are so many things I want to do with my life. And what about my father? Who will care for him? He barely survived losing Mom.
If he loses me, it’ll kill him. That thought only makes me cry harder. The sobs racking my body make it difficult to stay upright. Calder’s grasp on me tightens, and he’s the only thing keeping me on my feet.
I blink up at him, silently praying for a different outcome.
The way his jaw clenches in irritation reminds me of the night in his truck.
How conflicted he was, caught between two feelings, unsure of which one might win out.
His gaze connects with mine, a flash of regret appearing and then evaporating like smoke when he looks back toward the front door.
Maybe he’ll let me go. He got what he came for after all.
Another voice rips all my illusions to shreds. “Hurry up, Calder. We’ve gotta move quickly. If you ain’t got the balls to end her, then I will.” I can’t see the person’s face, and I don’t recognize the voice, but he sounds hardened. He sounds like a killer. Like Calder.
“Shut your fucking mouth. I’ve got it.” Calder’s voice is steel as he fires his response, his sharp jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth.
Do something. Anything.
This is my last chance to escape, my last chance to resist. With that thought fresh in my mind, I gather what little strength I have and fight back. I don’t think about the consequences or what’s going to happen next. All that matters is surviving.
I sink my teeth into the meaty flesh of the palm still pressed against my mouth.
I’d hoped the pain would make him release me, even for a second, but it didn’t. He hisses and tugs his hand away, pulling his skin from between my teeth, leaving the iron taste of blood behind. It takes every part of me not to gag.
It didn’t work, and worse, now he looks, what? Amused? As amused as someone can look, splattered in someone’s lifeblood. “Was that supposed to hurt? If so, you’ll have to do better. Kittens bite harder than you.”
Anger and fear clash inside me, and I wrench against him, trying to break his hold on me again. “Please don’t.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“But you will! I know you’re going to hurt me.”
“Do you?”
It’s obvious he won’t release me, so I ignore him and continue to struggle, but Calder easily presses his weight and muscle mass against me, stilling me completely.
His neck is now situated against the side of my face, smearing the tears tracking down my cheeks. “For what it’s worth, I admire your fight.”
I scramble to find a way loose. “My father will notice. He will look for me, and he won’t stop until he finds me. Don’t do this.”
“Sure, he may look for you, but he’ll never find you. And eventually, he will accept that you’re gone, as will everyone else.”
This is it. I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me.
A fresh shot of adrenaline surges in my veins, making me dizzy, but there’s nowhere for me to go, no way to escape.
“Please… please, Calder.” I rasp, willing him to see me, to hear me. “Don’t kill me.” I start to sob again, and through my blurry gaze, I watch him, waiting for him to do it.
To end me.
He doesn’t move, though. His mouth opens, then closes against my temple, and I swear he wants to say something. The fantasy of freedom pops when he transfers my wrists together in one hand and snakes his arm around the back of my neck to clutch me tighter to him.
Terrified, I whimper as air gets harder to drag into my lungs.
Using his body weight, he presses me harder against the wall, making it impossible to breathe, to exist. Is this it? Is he going to crush me to death? I get my answer when he shifts his forearms up, the movement making spots flash behind my eyes.
What the hell is he doing? I can breathe, but everything is foggy now.
“Shhhh. Don’t fight. It’ll be easier this way,” he says from somewhere above me.
My forehead pounds with the beat of my heart, faster and faster, harder and harder. Until everything shifts, and the pressure becomes unbearable.
Calder stares into my eyes, watching as I slip away, his face a mask of unreadable emotion. Right before I fall into the abyss, I swear I hear him say, “You’re mine now, Saint.”