Page 282 of Heart of Frost and Scars

I can’t move, can’t twitch a finger, but inside, I rip myself apart, thrashing, bucking, and shredding my organs with a ferocity so intense it threatens to obliterate me from within.

Every molecule in my body is ablaze with it, this wrath that builds and builds with nowhere to go. It’s a nuclear bomb scorching the walls of my mind, melting, destroying, burning me alive. I choke on it but can’t release it. Can’t let it out.

I want to grab Rhett by the throat, crush his windpipe until he’s gasping for breath. Until his eyes pop out and his face turns blue. I want to slam my fists into his skull until there’s nothing left but bone and blood. Until I’ve pounded every trace of his sick, twisted smile out of existence.

I strain with all my energy to move my muscles, but they don’t respond. Not even the slightest twitch.

I don’t have to see Leo and Kody to know they’re in the same hell.

Rhett is going to rape her, and all we can do is sit here and burn.

I hate him with a force that defies comprehension. I hate him for what he’s done to Frankie, to Wolf, to all of us. I hate him for what he’s about to do. I hate him for taking away my ability to protect the people I love.

The depth of my hatred is a black hole, sucking in every last shred of light, every last piece of humanity, until all that’s left is darkness and rage.

As Rhett opens Frankie’s robe, something moves near her arm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see…

Wolf.

He’s awake.

And he’s holding the knife Kody must have passed to him.

His hand moves fast, too fast to register. Before I fully comprehend what’s happening, the blade flies through the air and sinks into the juncture between Rhett’s chest and shoulder.

He stumbles back, staring down at the weapon in shock. Then he glares at Wolf with demonic eyes.

As he tries to yank the knife free, Frankie kicks the gun off the table with a burst of movement that defies everything Rhett thought he controlled.

The weapon clatters to the floor, skidding across the wood.

For a split second, everything is chaos. Rhett’s face twists in fury as he dives for the gun, and Frankie lunges after him, her fingers clawing for it. The IV fluid bag and pump go flying, no longer connected to her.

Leo, Kody, and I are frozen in our seats, unable to move, to help, to do anything but watch as the scene unfolds before us.

Time slows, the seconds stretching into infinity as Frankie and Rhett grapple on the floor. They scramble in and out of view, fighting to gain control of the gun.

I can’t fucking move. I’m trapped in this useless body while the fire inside me rages unchecked, burning hotter and hotter with every second that passes. It’s tearing me apart, this helplessness.

At the edge of my sight, Wolf struggles to free himself, to help, but he’s fumbling. Still fighting the remnants of sedation.

Rhett’s head pops up, the fillet knife still protruding from his shoulder. I see it in his eyes as his hand closes around the gun, the cold resolve of a man willing to do anything to win.

Frankie grabs it at the same time, and a shot rings out, deafening in the enclosed space of the cabin.

The sound echoes off the walls, bouncing around my skull and reverberating in my chest. Rhett and Frankie drop. I can’t tell who fired the shot, can’t see who has the gun, can’t know who’s been hit.

All I can do is sit here, helpless, as the world around me teeters on the brink of oblivion.

In the next breath, Oliver appears in my periphery.

The Ghost.

Thank fucking God. Finally.

He breezes toward Rhett and Frankie, a rifle in hand. He looks like he just stepped out of a war zone, his face streaked with dirt and his clothes torn from the descent. He wears a utility vest loaded with ammo and a parachute harness still half-attached to his back.

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