60. CHAPTER 55
SAYLOR
I’ve been listening and waiting for someone to come in here. I have to find a way to get this cuff off.
“Fuck,” I whisper when I hear what sounds like gunshots. What the fuck is going on?
I don’t know who’s shooting. I don’t know if there are other women here being attacked. All I know is that I have to get out of here.
I’m standing by the bed with the knife in my hand and Ryan’s body behind me. The sheets and mattress are soaked through with his blood. My hospital gown is covered too. I did my best to rinse off my hands, arms, and face in the sink, but I don’t have anything else to change into.
The keypad to my door beeps.
I step back and grip the knife. I don’t care how many bodies I pile up in here, I’ll fight each and every one of them.
Justin pushes through the door. “We’ve got to get the fuck out of here.
” His eyes go straight to the bed, and he stops in his tracks.
“What the fuck?” He notices the knife in my hand and then the bloody gown I’m in.
He’s deciding what to do next. He pulls his hand from behind his back, and he’s holding a syringe.
Fuck. I can’t let him drug me. I can’t be unconscious.
“He tried to use this knife on me.” I don’t want him to know our father helped me in the event that Dad might actually be on my side.
“He was going to rape me, Justin.” I force sadness into my voice, prepared to put on whatever show he needs to believe me.
“I couldn’t let him. I didn’t think you’d like that. ”
Justin stares at me. His fingers tighten around the syringe. He looks back at Ryan on the bed, and I can’t read what he’s thinking. I need him to trust me long enough to get my fucking ankle free.
“He always was a piece of shit.” Justin turns back to me. “I told him to stay the fuck away from you.”
I take a deep breath, hating what I’m about to do.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” I lower the knife to my side so it’s less threatening. “Before you left. About what our life could be like.”
“And?” He watches my face. He’s looking for the lie. But he wants so badly for it to be true, I know he’s already halfway to believing me. That’s his fucking delusion.
“I just want us to get out of here, Justin. Take me somewhere far from these people.” My voice cracks, and I don’t have to fake the fear. The syringe is right there in his hand, and if he decides to use it, I’m done. “Please. Just you and me. Like it was always supposed to be.”
Something shifts in his face. The tension in his jaw loosens, and his eyes go soft in a way that makes my skin crawl. He believes me. He actually fucking believes me.
“You mean that?” He takes a step closer. The syringe is still in his hand, but his grip has loosened.
“Yes.” I nod. There are tears on my cheeks. “But we have to go. There’s gunfire downstairs, and I don’t know what’s happening. Please just get this thing off my ankle, and let’s leave and never come back.”
He glances down at the cuff and the chain. Then he looks at the syringe in his hand. He’s contemplating what to do.
“I’m not going to fight you, Justin. You can give us a good life, right?”
“I’ve always been able to give you everything you need.
” His voice gets tight. “You’re the one who kept running from it.
Running to fucking Axl. Running to anyone but me.
You used to, you know? I used to be the one you trusted to keep you safe.
I was the one who used to keep you calm when you’d crawl into bed with me after the thunder scared you or you had a nightmare. ”
Then he became the fucking nightmare.
“I know.” The words taste like poison, but I swallow them down. I want to kill him just for trying to use our childhood as his excuse for what he’s done. “I was scared. To feel this way. You have to understand that. No one will understand what’s between us.”
His expression changes. He looks at me the way he used to look at me when he’d stand in the doorway of my room. I didn’t understand it then, but I fucking do now, and it makes me want to vomit.
“I’ve tried to tell you that.” He takes another step toward me. “Everyone kept getting in the way. The fucking Ravens. Mom. Dad. Axl. All of them want to keep us apart when they don’t know that we’re made for each other.”
I close the knife, trying not to react to his fucked-up delusions.
I show it to him and then let my hand drop.
“Axl’s dead.” I look at the body on the bed, needing to remind myself what I’m fighting for, so I don’t lose it and cry at the thought of never seeing Axl again.
Then I focus back on Justin. “There’s no one left to get in our way. We’ll leave Mom and Dad behind.”
“Dad’s dead too.” There’s more gunfire, and it makes Justin flinch and glance at the door.
I don’t know if Justin killed our father, but my chest aches at yet another loss. I can’t ask questions about my dad right now. I have to keep Justin focused on releasing me.
“We have to go, Sayl.” His jaw sets. “I don’t know how the Sinclairs found us, but I ran up here when I saw Tate and Thorne. That bastard must have put some kind of tracker in your body. I’m going to have to find it after you’re out.”
He holds up the syringe. “This would be easier if—”
“No. Please.” I back up a step and shake my head. “Don’t drug me. Not after what just happened with Ryan. I’ll go with you. I’ll let you find the tracker. I’ll be yours, Justin.”
He stares at me for a long second. He’s looking at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world and I just gave him everything he could ever want. He’s lost his damn mind.
He sets the syringe on the cabinet and pulls a key from his pocket.
“You run from me, Saylor, and I’ll never unchain you again.” He crouches down and reaches for the cuff on my ankle.
His head is bent, and his hands are busy with the lock. The key turns. I feel the metal release from my skin, and the chain drops to the floor. My ankle is raw and swollen, but I’m finally fucking free.
Justin springs to a stand and holds his arms open wide. “Come here to me.”
I step closer and flip the knife open, then drive it into his chest before he knows what’s happening.
His eyes go wide, and his mouth opens, but he doesn’t go down. His hand clamps around my wrist that holds the knife. He squeezes so hard I think he’s going to break my bone. He’s stronger than me.
“You fucking bitch.” His face twists into the cruelest expression I’ve ever seen. A different psychotic version of my brother is in front of me.
He wrenches my wrist, and the knife turns. The blade drags across my ribs, just below my breast. The pain is instant. I scream. Blood runs down my body, mixing with his and Ryan’s blood.
I can’t give up. It doesn’t matter how much it fucking hurts. This is it. I either kill him or I’m dead. He’ll make me wish I was dead for every second I’m alive. I drive my knee into his balls as hard as I can.
His grip breaks. He doubles over, and I rip the knife free from his hand and shove him backward. He hits the floor, and I’m on top of him before he can move.
I drive the blade into his chest.
“That’s for every time you fucking drugged me.” I twist the knife, and he screams.
I rip it free from his body and drive it in again. I can’t stop stabbing him.
“That’s for the baby I lost. My baby with Axl.” My voice doesn’t sound like mine anymore. “That’s for every time you put your hands on me and I couldn’t remember.”
I’m crying and blood is everywhere—his and mine. I can’t fucking stop all of the rage that’s been pent up inside of me. I just keep stabbing him. “That’s for Kynlee. That’s for Tracy. None of us deserved your shit.”
He’s trying to speak. Blood is running from his mouth, and his hands are pawing at my arms, but there’s no strength left in them. His eyes are locked on mine, and he looks confused. He looks like he doesn’t understand why this is happening.
“That’s for Axl. If you really killed him, I hope there’s an afterlife, so you can watch me choose him over and over, then I can kill your sorry ass again, brother.”
I bring the knife down. I have both hands on the handle and can’t stop stabbing him. I don’t want to stop. Every cut of his flesh reclaims something he took from me.
He stops moving under me. His hands fall to the floor, and his head rolls to the side. His eyes are open and unmoving. My brother is dead, but I still can’t fucking stop. I’m sobbing while I keep stabbing him, freshly covered in his blood.
The door crashes open behind me, and I spin with the knife up, lunging to my feet to fight whoever is next. I don’t care who it is. I will kill every person in this building.
But my legs give out. The pain catches up, and my vision goes dark at the edges, and I hit the floor beside Justin on my knees.
“Saylor.”
I look up from the ground, and I think I’m losing my mind.
Axl is standing in the doorway. He’s covered in blood and bruises, but he’s alive. Crew is behind him with his gun drawn, but Axl’s eyes are locked on mine.
I can’t decide if he’s really there. Or is my mind playing tricks on me?
“You’re alright, little heathen.” Axl’s voice is calm as he rushes toward me. “Baby, I’m right here.”
I try to stand and I can’t. My side is on fire, and my legs won’t hold me. He catches me before I hit the floor again. His arms are around me, and I sob into his neck.
“They said you were dead.” I grip his shirt, but my voice is weak. “Everyone said you were dead.”
“I’d never leave you, baby.” His mouth is against my hair, and his arms are so tight around me that I can feel how fast his heart races. “I’ll always find you, little heathen. In this life and the next one.”
I pull back to look at his face. He’s covered in bruising and cuts. His beautiful blue eyes make a knot form in my throat. “I killed them like you taught me.”
He looks past me at Justin’s body on the floor. Then at Ryan’s on the bed. His jaw tightens, and his arms pull me back against his chest.
“That’s my good girl.” He presses his lips to my forehead. “Did they—”
“No.” I shake my head, looking up at him. “Not this time.”
His arms tighten around me, and I let myself sink into him.
I know we have a lot to figure out, but I’m done living in fear. I’m done with fucking nightmares. And I’m done with the past. I’m only looking forward, and Axl is the one in front of me.
“Axl,” I whisper, not sure if I even spoke out loud. My eyes struggle to stay open. I don’t want to look away from his blue eyes, but I feel myself going under. “I think I’m bleeding.”