Chapter 20
TWENTY
PARIS
“You’re not touching her.” Knox shields me.
“I will.” His eyes pore over me in that way that makes me want to scrub my skin raw. “And Gabriel wants his sister back. Didn’t say what condition she needed to be in, though.”
His words curdle in my gut. There’s a promise in them, the same one I’ve seen in his eyes—that sick anticipation of hurting me while calling it protection.
“Gabriel’s dead,” I say.
“Even better.” Mike drops the axe from his shoulder, Miller’s blood dripping from the blade, staining the forest floor between us. “You’ll be mine.”
“I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” Knox barrels toward Mike.
Mike’s axe whistles through the air as Knox dodges, the blade missing him by inches. They circle each other like wolves, Knox light on his feet despite his exhaustion, Mike lumbering but powerful.
He swings again, and this time Knox isn’t fast enough. The sharp side catches him across the chest, carving a bloody line into cloth and skin.
Not deep enough to kill, but enough to make him stagger backward, hand pressed to the wound. Blood leaks between his fingers, turning his black shirt even darker.
“Knox!” I rush forward, but Mike’s tree-trunk arm slams into my belly, sending me sprawling into the dirt.
“Stay down, sweetheart.” Mike tosses the axe aside, the heavy blade thudding into the leaf litter. “This is too easy. Want to feel his face cave in under my fist.”
Knox’s eyes meet mine for a split second—a universe of meaning packed into that glance. And one single word screaming at me.
RUN.
But I can’t. Won’t.
I close my fingers around the knife handle
Never again.
Mike advances on Knox, fists raised. “When I’m done with you, I’ll take her right here. Let you watch.”
Knox circles right, forcing Mike to turn away from me. I use the opportunity to creep closer, knife ready. If I can get behind him—
Mike feints left, then charges at Knox like a bull, catching him in a tackle that sends them both landing in the underbrush as they grapple.
I sprint, aiming for Mike’s neck, but his elbow shoots out, hitting me on the chest. The impact sends me flying again, air punched from my lungs as I slam against the ground, hitting my head.
“Paris!” Knox’s distraction costs him, and Mike lands a meaty fist against his jaw.
White spots dance across my vision, but I fight through, battling to stand. Faster, Paris. You don’t have time!
Knox fights like a demon, landing blows that would incapacitate a normal man. But Mike is a wall of muscle, absorbing punishment that should put him down.
Stupid enhanced shitbag.
“Gonna enjoy this.” Mike closes his hands around Knox’s throat, squeezing.
Blood pounds in my ears as I force my legs to move, to carry me forward despite my head protesting in agony.
Knox bucks and twists, but Mike’s weight keeps him trapped. His face reddens, veins standing out in his neck as he fights for air. Mike doesn’t even look up, too focused.
One chance.
I jump onto Mike’s broad back, wrapping my arm around his thick neck. He rears up, releasing Knox to grab at me instead. His fingers dig into my forearm, trying to dislodge me, but I cling like a tick, my legs locked around his waist.
“Get off me, you crazy bitch!” He slams backward, crushing me between his body and a tree.
Pain tears through my ribs, but I hold on. Asshole. He does it again, harder, and something cracks. The blade nearly slips from my grasp, but I clamp down harder.
Telly would call me crazy, too.
Knox gasps for air on the ground, struggling to rise as Mike spins, trying to shake me off. The world blurs around us, trees and sky and earth all blending together as he thrashes.
Freddie wouldn’t hesitate.
“Die, sweetheart.” I drive the blade into the side of his neck, opening his throat from ear to ear with the last of my strength.
Hot blood cascades over my hand, soaking my sleeve and running down my arm in rivulets. Mike makes a horrible gurgling sound, hands flying to his ruined throat as he drops to his knees.
Not so powerful now, are you?
He topples forward, face-planting into the dirt with a dull thud.
I go down with him.
I did it.
I stare at the knife still buried in Mike’s flesh, my fingers numb and locked around the handle. Blood pools beneath him, spreading in a dark stain that soaks into the forest floor.
I killed him.
Not a zombie. A human.
I… slit a man’s throat.
“Paris.” Knox’s hoarse voice reaches me through fog. “Let go of the knife.”
I can’t. My fingers won’t obey.
He kneels beside me, his blood-streaked face swimming into focus. “It’s over, princess. You can let go now.”
“I killed him,” I whisper, the words tasting strange on my tongue.
“You saved us.” His hands cover mine, gently prying my fingers from the handle. “You did what you had to do.”
But did I? There must have been another way. One that wouldn’t leave me with a man’s blood cooling on my skin, his death rattle echoing in my ears.
Knox gathers me against his chest.
I should be crying, screaming.
Something.
Anything.
Instead, I feel hollow, scraped clean of everything except the weight of what I’ve done.
Knox’s hands gently probe my ribs. “Anything broken?”
“I don’t—” A stabbing pain hits me. “Maybe?”
“We need to move.” He helps me stand, steadying me against his side. “Can you walk?”
I nod, but only make it two steps toward the SUV before my knees give out. He catches me before I hit the ground, saying nothing as he lifts me into his arms and carries me the rest of the way. The world tilts and spins, trees blurring into smears of green and brown.
What is happening?
He lowers me into the passenger seat, and I sink into leather that oddly still smells new. Something so normal it makes my throat close up. Knox settles into the driver’s seat, turning the keys in the ignition.
“We made it,” he says, like he can’t quite believe it himself.
I look back toward the hill, toward Gabriel, Min-ji, my potential niece or nephew, and everything else I’m leaving behind. “Did we?”
“Yes.” He floors the gas.
My hand is sticky with drying blood. I wipe it on my pants, leaving rust-colored smears on the fabric.
He would have killed Knox.
The SUV bounces over the uneven terrain, each jolt sending fresh pain through my ribs. But as we reach the main road, the ride smoothens out.
I reach into my pocket, fingers closing around the diamond ring and sliding it onto my finger, where it belongs.
Knox reaches across the console, taking my hand in his, his thumb’s gentle caress numbing the spreading pain.
“Knox?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
He glances at me. “I love you, princess.”
“I—” Dizziness takes over. “Knox?”
I’m falling, drifting, tumbling through space.
“Paris! Stay with me!”
His hand squeezes mine, but I can’t squeeze back. My fingers are numb, disconnected from my brain’s commands.
“Fuck—Paris, open your eyes!”
I try. God, I try. But my eyelids might as well be welded shut, heavy as iron doors.
The taste of copper fills my mouth. Blood. My blood?
That can’t be good.
“Goddammit, don’t you dare.” His voice breaks, sharpened by fear. “Princess. Please.”
Something about the raw desperation in his voice touches a part of me that’s fading. I claw toward consciousness, battling the undertow, trying to…
Survive.