Chapter 40 #2
He glared at her and stepped forward. “I’ll make you pay for that.”
She shook the gun at him. “Don’t move! Don’t come any closer.”
The weapon was heavy. It felt awkward in her hands, being both unwieldy and too big to comfortably hold.
Kieran let out a dry laugh.
“Come on… Put it down. We both know you won’t do anything with that.”
Harper switched off the safety.
“Fucking watch me.”
That made him stop. In surprise, by how wide his eyes went.
A rich goddamn reaction. He was the one who’d shown her how to handle a gun. He’d lined up a bunch of empty cans in his backyard and positioned himself right behind her, gently altering her grip on the weapon, showing her how to aim and fire.
She’d liked him back then. Had liked him so much that she ignored all the warning signs. All the times he made her feel like shit because she refused to make herself smaller just so he could feel better about himself.
The air nipped at her skin. Her shirt was torn down the front, baring part of her chest, and pain pulsed through her cheek where his hand had connected. And despite the fucked-up visage she made, that he had caused, he still looked more confused than guilty.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean to go that far. I just missed you. That’s all. I lost control.”
He would keep coming. He would keep pushing until he forced her no into a yes, and he didn’t care how much damage he caused getting her there.
He might act remorseful now, but that was a front. Any tenderness he showed wasn’t real. It was a half-hearted attempt at kindness, and when she once again refused to submit, he would try to make her cower instead. Eventually, he might even succeed.
He took another step. And Harper squeezed the trigger.
Kieran stiffened and looked down at himself. A patch of red formed on his stomach, blooming on his shirt like a scarlet flower.
His eyes returned to hers. Soft and shining. Still so confused.
“Harper…”
She fired again, three times in rapid succession. The first shot went wide. The second grazed his arm. The last punched into his chest.
Kieran staggered back. His eyes stayed on hers, glassy and bewildered. Even as he touched his now bloody torso, he kept staring at her. Shocked that she would hurt him like this.
His gaze unfocused. He dropped to his knees. A twitch shivered through his body, and then he fell to the floor.
Unmoving.
Harper froze. Stared. Trembled.
Everything was so clear suddenly. His chest no longer rising. The slowly expanding pool of blood under his body. His eyes looking blankly at the ceiling.
He was dead. He was dead, and she had killed him. He’d been standing right in front of her, talking, and now he would never do so again.
She’d been so focused before. Had been so intent on making him stop that she hadn’t fully realized what was happening. How close it got before he…
Nausea burned in her throat. Lights swarmed in front of her eyes, dizziness following with such speed that she almost collapsed.
He would have made her into a toy. A glorified broodmare. He would have raped her against the desk, taking her over and over, until she got too exhausted to fight him. Until she was nothing but a shell. An obedient pet that did everything she was told without hesitation.
The only reason he hadn’t was because she got lucky.
She grabbed the wall and closed her eyes, blocking out the scene, but it didn’t help. Every second after she was pulled into this room flooded her mind, hitting like a tidal wave now that adrenaline wasn’t keeping them at bay.
Everyone had known, too. They had seen him drag her away. Had been fully aware of what he planned on doing, and they’d been fine with it. Had thought themselves so right in their twisted cause that any action they did, no matter how deplorable, became not only acceptable, but encouraged.
Now their leader was dead. The murder weapon still warm in her hands.
The door slammed open. Kieran’s people had heard the gunshots. They would barge in, see the carnage, and kill her for causing it. Not quickly, either. They would make her sprint into such exhaustion that she’d feel relieved when death finally caught her.
Eyes still closed, Harper swung the gun towards the doorway. She fired blindly, over and over until the magazine clicked empty.
A hand closed around her wrist, and the gun clattered to the floor.
“No!” She tried to wrench free. “Let go! Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me, you piece of—”
“Harper!” Hands grabbed her shoulders. “Harper, it’s me!”
She stopped fighting. She opened her eyes, and instead of a stranger, she found familiar soft features. Dark brown hair. Beautiful golden-black eyes.
“Maya?”
She was covered in blood. On her face and neck, and her skin was pale and patchy. She was wearing the same clothes as back at the cabin, now ripped and wet from melted snow.
But she was alive. Alive and holding onto Harper’s arms. Keeping her steady.
A sob tore through her chest. She fell forward, burying her face against Maya’s shoulder, and clung to her with all her rapidly fading strength.
“You’re safe.” Maya hugged her close, the hold almost painfully tight. “I’m here. I’m here now. I got you, and you… you’re safe.”
It sounded like she said it mostly to herself. As though she had to voice the words to believe them, and hearing it just made Harper cry harder. Everything had been so hopeless just a moment before, and this embrace—familiar and safe—made everything before it stand out in devastating contrast.
Maya cupped her jaw, eyes flicking over her body. Pausing on her bruised cheek and torn t-shirt.
She tensed. She looked towards Kieran, lying dead on the floor, then back to Harper’s ruined clothes. Her eyes hardened as though transformed into inky black stone.
“Did he…”
Harper took a trembling breath. Then shook her head.
“No. But he tried.”
Fire filled Maya’s gaze. Such pure fury that it would have been frightening had she not pointed her glare at Kieran’s corpse.
She looked like she wanted to tear him apart. Like she wanted him to come back to life, just so she could kill him again, and this time it would happen slowly.
Instead, she turned back to Harper. She took off her leather jacket and wrapped it around Harper’s shoulders, covering her.
“I’m sorry.” Maya pulled her close again. “This shouldn’t have happened. He should never even have touched you. I’m so sorry.”
Harper hid her face against her chest. She had told herself that Maya was coming, but that belief wasn’t confident. It was loud only because of necessity. To block out the terrifying alternatives that were far too easy to believe.
“How?” Harper whispered. “I saw you. I saw him stake you.”
Maya chuckled without humor. “Stakes can’t kill me. Apparently, I’m special in more ways than one.”
Maya pressed her face against Harper’s hair, breathing in, and some of the tension faded from her body. She stepped back and nodded towards the door, and then Harper’s eyes filled with fresh tears.
Evie was leaning against the doorframe, one foot slightly raised. She hobbled forward as Harper rushed through the room, catching her colliding hug.
“Are you okay?” Evie asked, voice wavering. Harper let out an uneven sigh.
“I’m fine.” She leaned back, hands still on Evie’s arms. “And you? Did they hurt you?”
It looked like Evie didn’t quite believe her assurance, but she didn’t argue.
“No. Not too much, at least.” She winced. “My ankle… I don’t think it’s broken, but I can’t really put weight on it.”
A dark thought flashed through Harper’s mind. She turned towards Maya, who’d followed her to the door.
“Nell. I-I don’t know where she is, but—”
“Nell is safe. They didn’t take her. She’s still back at the cabin.” Maya rubbed her chest with a groan. “She pulled the stake free. Without her, I wouldn’t be here.”
Her expression turned serious. “We don’t have much time. This storm can still provide some cover, but it won’t do so for long. I have to get you both out of here.”
She took Harper’s hand as her gaze filled with steel.
“We have to run.”