Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Fuck. This can’t be happening. After everything I’ve been through. This can’t be how it ends.
Suddenly, I spot him.
The man I’ve been running away from all this time, bolting through the woods at high speed with unbridled rage and determination churning in his eyes.
Soren.
As he runs toward the car, our eyes connect, and with a single look, I beg him to save me. And I let out one final act of disobedience, calling out the name of the one person I was never supposed to need.
“Soren!”
Chapter 35
Soren
The second I spot her in the car, I run. I run like hell.
Not because she’s driving off, but because I saw the tears rolling down her cheeks.
Those weren’t tears of guilt. They were tears of pain and grief and fear all wrapped into one, and they lit a fire inside my soul that will burn for an eternity.
Because I will not stop until I have her in my arms.
Even though she escaped my grasp and willingly set ablaze our moment of peace just so she could have her freedom, I can still see the regret in her eyes.
She didn’t want to stay in that car.
If she did … maybe I would’ve let her go.
But that panicked look. That one look she gave me … the one who begged me to save her … who pulled the trigger and released the beast inside.
So I run like I’m chasing after the devil himself, my muscles and lungs bursting with pain as I push them to the limit of what a human is physically capable of. And I go beyond the acceptable, beyond the limit, to reach the car, to reach her.
When I’m right behind it, I jump onto the back and crawl on top, clenching the metal not to be swung off. I fish my knife from my pocket and ram it straight into the roof. Shrieks follow from the inside. Man shrieks. The kind of cowards and bastards who don’t deserve to live.
And they won’t after I’m done with them.
I roar out loud as I turn around on top of the roof, pull out the knife, and jam it straight into the window until it cracks and falls apart. And with a big swing, I push myself inside, landing straight into the man’s jaw with a foot.
“Fuck! Get off me!” he yells.
The car begins to swerve, and everybody screams, but I remain focused on my target, beating the ever-living shit out of him as he’s cornered up against April.
My fucking girl.
The one he dared to lay a finger on.
Because I saw it when I ran toward her. I saw him stick his hands down her pants and her shirt while she cried and begged.
And I cannot ignore that.
So I rip him away from her and shove my knife into his abdomen. He grunts in pain.
Good. I hope he fucking enjoys it as I throw him out the window.
The other two guys yell and cry as I glance at April to make sure she’s okay, but she’s shivering and in complete shock at what just happened.
I jump toward the driver first, shoving down his foot on the brake until the car comes to a complete stop. Then I punch him in the face a couple of times.
His buddy tries to attack me from the side with a switchblade, but I swiftly knock it from his hands, snapping his arm in two.
“Fuck!” he cries in pain.
The other one holds up his hands, begging me for mercy. “Please. I did nothing.”
“YOU CAGED HER,” I growl, seething with uncontrollable rage.
And I slam the unlock button. The doors immediately click open as the two guys scramble to get away. But I won’t let them get far.
No. They chose pain today. They chose it the second they cornered her and tried to use her.
And I? I choose violence.
So I grab the one closest to me, the one with the hoodie, and kick him in the stomach so hard he vomits on the ground.
“Please …” he begs.
I ignore his please and pounce down on his head with my foot until it cracks and splatters, blood oozing from his skull.
The driver tries to flee in complete panic, crying and screaming like a baby.
Instead of chasing after him, I throw my knife at his back.
It lands straight between his shoulders, and he falls down to the asphalt, howling in pain.
I approach him and dig the knife a little deeper before I pluck it out again.
“Please … I didn’t do anything …” he says.
“Exactly,” I growl.
He let his buddies touch her while he. Did. Nothing.
So I grab his head and twist until it cracks.
Then nothing but silence.
The car door opens, and April steps out, shaking. Our eyes connect briefly. Hers filled with terror, and I don’t know if it’s meant for them … or me.